Monday, July 10, 2006
Busy day today. I got up early, drove to Mr. T.'s, picked up the minivan and drove it to the Chrysler-Dodge dealer's, talked to the service folks there, and then read my book for an hour until one of their people could give me a ride back to Mr. T.'s.
Then I stopped in at Piper's office to get some advice about what I could afford to pay for another car, but he wasn't in yet, so I went to the cafe down the block and had a late breakfast. Saw Piper's car arrive, called him, he said come on in, so I did. We ended up back at the same cafe for coffee (& tea).
He: "You can afford any new car you want. Why are you looking at used cars?"
Me: "Because I fully intend to buy a new car in a year or two, but when I do, I want to really research it. Test drive a lot. Talk to people. That takes more time than I have now."
He: "You don't have the time now? What's the rush?"
Me: "I don't want to keep paying rental car prices, and there's no guarantee when the minivan will be fixed. And I'm going to Orlando in early August, and I want something reliable to drive to the airport in Newark. I need something NOW. I'm essentially BUYING this flippin' rental car, and they STILL want me to give it back someday! I may as well buy a car I can resell later."
So he's cutting a check for me.
He asked exactly when my flight is, and it so happens he has meetings scheduled that afternoon near the airport, so he offered me a ride down. I said thank you, but I still have to get back home, and the long term parking isn't expensive, I don't mind driving. So when he went back to his office this afternoon, he rescheduled some other meetings so he can pick me up after the return flight, too. Very nice of him. It's only now, sitting here alone, that I remember that the last few times we've had lunch someplace we had to drive to, I drove, because his driving scares me. And I don't scare that easily!
Daughter, don't scold me, "You're leading him on!" He offered as a friend, and I accepted as a friend. He knows the score. I've often been told that I don't accept gifts or offers of help gracefully. I'm trying.
After leaving Piper, I went across the river to the Subaru/Suzuki dealer, and looked again at the used Suzuki Aerio sedan. I test drove it. It's a good thing I had read the reviews yesterday, so I was prepared for the strange steering (hard to describe - tight, and it doesn't feel connected to the wheels) and the way it revs very high before shifting. From what I'd read, I know that's normal for this model. The steering takes some getting used to, and it revs high until it's well warmed up. The speedometer is a digital readout instead of a needle on a dial, and it took me about 30 seconds to decide I really really do like that. You don't have to visually/mentally process it when you look at it.
I asked if the car was local (thinking "no Katrina car, thank you") and if the service records were available. The salesman wasn't sure where the car came from, but then he found the folder, and the car was originally purchased new from them, all the major service was done by them, and the previous owner is well known - he buys a new car every three years (when the "everything else" warranty runs out). I believe him. It still has the drivetrain warranty, so if there are major problems he's not mentioning, it's their problem. So far so good.
I bought it.
It's a bit funny looking - like a cross between a sedan, an SUV, and a tank. Here's a picture of a 2003 Suzuki Aerio sedan. Mine's white, with barely visible sparkles in the paint. Four door. CD player. A/C. Power everything. About 36,480 miles on it. Four years remaining on the drivetrain warranty, and I also bought a one-year extension on the "everything else" warranty. Back seats (split) fold down if you want to put long stuff in the trunk. Nice clean gray suede-like upholstery. No evidence of any bodywork or replaced glass. Less than $9,000.
I asked the sales manager why they were selling it for less than the Blue Book value, and he looked stunned for a moment, then waved his arm at the used car lot, and said "We're mainly a new car dealer. We get a LOT of trade-ins. We gotta sell 'em. We're not losing money on the sale...." (Note to self - If I ever buy a new car there, drive a hard deal on the trade-in value they'll allow me. There's apparently some negotiating room.)
They'll handle financing (I plan to pay it off as soon as Piper's check arrives, so I don't care what rate they get, and NYS doesn't allow penalties for early payment), registration, plates, insurance, etc. I get to pick it up Wednesday, at noon, all legal and ready to go.
When I got home, there was a message on the phone from the Chrysler/Dodge shop regarding the minivan. It will be finished and ready to go tomorrow. Duh? I called them back "right quick I tell ya what!"
He: "The front brake rotors are pitted and it needs new spark plugs."
Me: "Ok. No problem. I did feel a pull in the brakes. And the hesitation-stalling-check engine light problem?"
He: "That's the O2 sensor. The connections were bent."
Me: "The O2 sensor? Which one?"
He: "The same one that's been replaced twice already. It looks like when somebody put one in, they forced it, jammed it in, and it bent the connections. So the computer was getting intermittent bad data, and was feeding the engine based on bad data, and that's what was causing the hesitation and stalling, and the check engine lights. We just straightened out the connections. No charge."
Me: "And this is going to fix everything?"
He: "Yup. 'Course you'll have to drive it a bit to make sure, but those bent connections were definitely a problem."
The latest O2 sensor was installed by the second-choice service station, remember? The guys I forced to honor the warranty and do it free. If this DOES fix the problem, you can bet they're going to hear about it. I guess that's the automotive equivalent of spitting in my food.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Sunday, July 09, 2006
785 Magic - The Ball Knows All
I lifted this from Ally at Simply Me Ally. (She takes nice photos, BTW.)
I had an 8-Ball when I was a pre-teen, and it's funny how much faith I still have in its answers! I even test it by asking questions to which I already know the answers, and it's always right. So, therefore, it must be right on all answers, right?
Click the 8-Ball to begin...
I had an 8-Ball when I was a pre-teen, and it's funny how much faith I still have in its answers! I even test it by asking questions to which I already know the answers, and it's always right. So, therefore, it must be right on all answers, right?
Click the 8-Ball to begin...784 New SUVs
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Anyone else notice that the new SUVs look a lot like mini-minivans?
[Personal to Caroline from the UK, I replied to your comment.]
Anyone else notice that the new SUVs look a lot like mini-minivans?
[Personal to Caroline from the UK, I replied to your comment.]
783 Nothing Sunday
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Nothing day. I was awakened early this morning by a call from the Maritime Museum - they needed someone to tend the gift shop today. I said I couldn't. I considered it, but I need time to catch up on stuff here after having been away Friday and Saturday.
Tomorrow will be a full day. I have to move the van from Mr. T.'s to the Chrysler dealership first thing in the morning, then I need to talk to Piper about the best way to handle the car problem, and by 5 pm I hope to have the problem solved, by finding and starting the paperwork on another vehicle, I hope....
I'm liking the used car I found on Thursday at the Subaru lot more and more. I hope it's still there.
Nothing day. I was awakened early this morning by a call from the Maritime Museum - they needed someone to tend the gift shop today. I said I couldn't. I considered it, but I need time to catch up on stuff here after having been away Friday and Saturday.
Tomorrow will be a full day. I have to move the van from Mr. T.'s to the Chrysler dealership first thing in the morning, then I need to talk to Piper about the best way to handle the car problem, and by 5 pm I hope to have the problem solved, by finding and starting the paperwork on another vehicle, I hope....
I'm liking the used car I found on Thursday at the Subaru lot more and more. I hope it's still there.
Friday, July 07, 2006
782 Leading Candidate Rounds the Final Turn!
Daughter and the Leading-Candidate-For-Son-In-Law applied for the New Jersey marriage license today. I was a witness. I'm risking a $7,500 fine by swearing that they are both mentally competent.
Hercules has rounded the final turn and is headed for the wire!
Hercules has rounded the final turn and is headed for the wire!
Thursday, July 06, 2006
781 Car Shopping
Thursday, July 6, 2006
We are supposed to have a rare few days without rain starting today, so I had planned to spray the prickly stickery nasty stuff that's trying to return to the cleared side yard.
Instead, after Mr. T.'s call about the van, I went to the Chrysler Dodge dealership down the road to talk to someone in the service department and make an appointment for Monday.
Then, on impulse, I decided to go car "window shopping". Just to find out what's available, and how much I'm likely to have to pay.
Since this is a "backup car", which I might trade in on a "real car" in a year or two, I don't want to pay much. I will consider new or used, depending on value for price. Therefore, my criteria:
Small
Simple
Cheap
Dependable
No more than three years old
Less than 60,000 miles
Preferably an import
"Certified", with decent warranty
I can take to Mr. T. for his opinion
Seller will service, and is reasonably close to my home
Color, style, and appearance are of no importance
I hit five new-and-used dealers, and it looks like I'll pay at a minimum $15,000 for new, and $9,000 for used within my criteria.
The 2006 Kia Rio is supposed to be the best value for the money, and that's what I'm driving now from Enterprise and I like it ok for a backup car, but the nearest Kia dealership is more than 30 miles away, and that's too far if something goes wrong during the warranty period. So I don't know.
You might ask, "Why not just bite the bullet and buy the 'real car' now?" Because I need something RIGHT NOW, as soon as possible, so I can get out from under the rental fees, and definitely before the end of July, and I haven't done the research yet to select a real car. Eventually I want a hybrid, but they're not ready for me yet. And I don't know yet what shape the minivan will be in, so it's hard to plan.
Oh, something funny happened. The first place I went was to a used car dealer that I know. He said that he had only one car on the lot that met my criteria, and it was a really nice one. He handed me the keys. I got in, started it, and ...
... the "check engine" light went on!!!!
And stayed on.
The salesman looked shocked.
Gee, maybe it's me?
We are supposed to have a rare few days without rain starting today, so I had planned to spray the prickly stickery nasty stuff that's trying to return to the cleared side yard.
Instead, after Mr. T.'s call about the van, I went to the Chrysler Dodge dealership down the road to talk to someone in the service department and make an appointment for Monday.
Then, on impulse, I decided to go car "window shopping". Just to find out what's available, and how much I'm likely to have to pay.
Since this is a "backup car", which I might trade in on a "real car" in a year or two, I don't want to pay much. I will consider new or used, depending on value for price. Therefore, my criteria:
Small
Simple
Cheap
Dependable
No more than three years old
Less than 60,000 miles
Preferably an import
"Certified", with decent warranty
I can take to Mr. T. for his opinion
Seller will service, and is reasonably close to my home
Color, style, and appearance are of no importance
I hit five new-and-used dealers, and it looks like I'll pay at a minimum $15,000 for new, and $9,000 for used within my criteria.
The 2006 Kia Rio is supposed to be the best value for the money, and that's what I'm driving now from Enterprise and I like it ok for a backup car, but the nearest Kia dealership is more than 30 miles away, and that's too far if something goes wrong during the warranty period. So I don't know.
You might ask, "Why not just bite the bullet and buy the 'real car' now?" Because I need something RIGHT NOW, as soon as possible, so I can get out from under the rental fees, and definitely before the end of July, and I haven't done the research yet to select a real car. Eventually I want a hybrid, but they're not ready for me yet. And I don't know yet what shape the minivan will be in, so it's hard to plan.
Oh, something funny happened. The first place I went was to a used car dealer that I know. He said that he had only one car on the lot that met my criteria, and it was a really nice one. He handed me the keys. I got in, started it, and ...
... the "check engine" light went on!!!!
And stayed on.
The salesman looked shocked.
Gee, maybe it's me?
780 Van News - Expensive News!
Thursday, July 6, 2006
Mr. T. called this morning. He said that he went to the local Chrysler dealer and talked to the service guy. They figure the problem is probably (no guarantees) in the wiring harness to the computer. Mr. T. says the dealership might be able to tweak and repair it, and they have better access to parts, so I should take the van to them. Mr. T. would have to replace rather than repair, and that's $1300 to $1800. And it could still be that much at the dealer.
And even if it's "fixed", I'm nervous. I'm thinking I'm going to have to buy a small, cheap, maybe used car, for just in case. In the past six months, I've driven something like six weeks worth of rental cars, and that's ridiculous.
Mr. T. says it's time to get rid of the van. I suspect what he's really saying is "I don't want to work on this dog anymore. Go buy me something nicer and simpler to work on."
In good shape, because of its rarity and the demand for handicap-equipped minivans, I could get close to $30,000 for it. But I won't get much if it's not dependable. It looks like I'd have to fix it, THEN sell it, but if it's fixed well enough to sell, I won't want to sell it. Deep breath.
My earlier moans about finances are increased. I am very unhappy.
It's not like I don't have it, but I'd have to spend from working principal (as opposed to a savings account, which since the reroofing is zero), and that's against my principles. Spending principal reduces my income - forever! It especially grates this year. We moved me out of 100% equity (stock) and into a mix of equity, fixed, and money market. Piper keeps saying that all these tax-free bonds he's buying me will "save a fortune in income tax" thereby significantly increasing my effective annual income. The other day, I startled him by pointing out that it will take seven years! of tax free interest income to make up for the enormous capital gains tax I have to pay this year (out of principal!) on all that stock we sold.
I'm getting really nervous. Mother is not happy.
Mr. T. called this morning. He said that he went to the local Chrysler dealer and talked to the service guy. They figure the problem is probably (no guarantees) in the wiring harness to the computer. Mr. T. says the dealership might be able to tweak and repair it, and they have better access to parts, so I should take the van to them. Mr. T. would have to replace rather than repair, and that's $1300 to $1800. And it could still be that much at the dealer.
And even if it's "fixed", I'm nervous. I'm thinking I'm going to have to buy a small, cheap, maybe used car, for just in case. In the past six months, I've driven something like six weeks worth of rental cars, and that's ridiculous.
Mr. T. says it's time to get rid of the van. I suspect what he's really saying is "I don't want to work on this dog anymore. Go buy me something nicer and simpler to work on."
In good shape, because of its rarity and the demand for handicap-equipped minivans, I could get close to $30,000 for it. But I won't get much if it's not dependable. It looks like I'd have to fix it, THEN sell it, but if it's fixed well enough to sell, I won't want to sell it. Deep breath.
My earlier moans about finances are increased. I am very unhappy.
It's not like I don't have it, but I'd have to spend from working principal (as opposed to a savings account, which since the reroofing is zero), and that's against my principles. Spending principal reduces my income - forever! It especially grates this year. We moved me out of 100% equity (stock) and into a mix of equity, fixed, and money market. Piper keeps saying that all these tax-free bonds he's buying me will "save a fortune in income tax" thereby significantly increasing my effective annual income. The other day, I startled him by pointing out that it will take seven years! of tax free interest income to make up for the enormous capital gains tax I have to pay this year (out of principal!) on all that stock we sold.
I'm getting really nervous. Mother is not happy.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
779 Dance Videos - Smaller Versions
I've been sending these to Daughter. I forgot there might be others interested.
Willow has created smaller versions of her routines from the show at SUNY New Paltz on June 17. If you didn't have the patience for the one I posted earlier, these should be quicker loading.
Video - Willow Finger Cymbals -Aziza - Small File - 8 mb
Video - Willow Floorwork - Armut Agaci - Small File - 4.6 mb
based on choreography by Ansuya
Willow has created smaller versions of her routines from the show at SUNY New Paltz on June 17. If you didn't have the patience for the one I posted earlier, these should be quicker loading.
Video - Willow Finger Cymbals -Aziza - Small File - 8 mb
Video - Willow Floorwork - Armut Agaci - Small File - 4.6 mb
based on choreography by Ansuya
778 DBA; Fun With Journaling
Wednesday, July 5, 2006
[07/06 Edit - added date and changed font sizes. That's all, folks!]
I got up early and dressed to go to the county offices to renew my "assumed name" (as New York State calls what everyone else knows as a DBA). I had been told by my accountant that it would need renewal after two years. I had originally applied for "(Hidden)" on July 9, 2004. But when I dug out the documents, even though I applied for it in July, the papers from the state are dated May, 2005. So when do I have to renew? Now or next May? The accountant had also said that the state would send me a reminder, but I know better than to depend on New York State.
I called the county record center, and they said it never expires. I have to actively cancel it.
I'm not sure who to believe. At any rate, I didn't go. Heck, it's a 45 minute drive, one way.
----------------------------------
I am again amused by the site statistics (SiteMeter.com). The count of people looking for "800-503-7001" has shot up again. (And if you're one of them, type the phone number into the white box above, and click on "search this blog". Then read the entries and the comments. It's a scam, especially if they mentioned a "yp.com" web site, and you should watch your phone bill carefully for a few months.)
Somebody in Doha, Qatar, ended up here by searching for "i love silk against my skin feel it trail it over my thighs". Whoa! I wonder what he or she was really looking for. A poem, perhaps? It's certainly pretty specific. This is what the search engine hit on in my journal: "I haven't been active on eBay in over a year. So, how did "Silk ... That's what it feels like, mostly all over my thighs and ... Sometimes I don't know whether to love her, hate her, or feel sorry ...". Bits from hither and yon, unrelated to each other.
Another person, from Durham, North Carolina, found me by searching for "locating and correcting reading difficulties". My journal was on page 18 (!!) of the search results. One wonders, given what he or she was obviously looking for, why he/she bothered to click on and read my journal. Especially when the search hit produced, from this journal, "to lie, and not to allow her to believe untruths by not correcting... I had assumed that the other woman had physical difficulties, but NJ ...".
Accidentally getting this journal when you're searching for something else is one thing. Actually clicking on it and reading it when it's so obviously not what you're looking for is something else. Curiouser and curiouser.
----------------------------------------------------
With such a slow connection, when a site is loading, I can watch the process messages at the bottom, like "Waiting for www.xxx.com", and "Transferring data from www.xxx.com', and so on. More and more lately, I've been seeing mention of "tribalfusion.com" in those messages. Huh? Why do I see a reference to tribalfusion.com when I'm loading something like a news site, or whatever?
Y'all know I have an interest in belly dance. There are several schools or styles - what most people are familiar with is cabaret. I kinda like American Tribal Style (ATS). "Fusion" means a melding of two or more styles or forms. It's entirely possible that in the past I had visited a site named "TribalFusion". So seeing it jumping in there almost every time I visit somewhere else is disturbing.
Turns out tribalfusion.com is an advertising placement site! Nothing whatsoever to do with any form of dance. I wonder how and why they chose that name.
Just another thing I don't understand....
[07/06 Edit - added date and changed font sizes. That's all, folks!]
I got up early and dressed to go to the county offices to renew my "assumed name" (as New York State calls what everyone else knows as a DBA). I had been told by my accountant that it would need renewal after two years. I had originally applied for "(Hidden)" on July 9, 2004. But when I dug out the documents, even though I applied for it in July, the papers from the state are dated May, 2005. So when do I have to renew? Now or next May? The accountant had also said that the state would send me a reminder, but I know better than to depend on New York State.
I called the county record center, and they said it never expires. I have to actively cancel it.
I'm not sure who to believe. At any rate, I didn't go. Heck, it's a 45 minute drive, one way.
----------------------------------
I am again amused by the site statistics (SiteMeter.com). The count of people looking for "800-503-7001" has shot up again. (And if you're one of them, type the phone number into the white box above, and click on "search this blog". Then read the entries and the comments. It's a scam, especially if they mentioned a "yp.com" web site, and you should watch your phone bill carefully for a few months.)
Somebody in Doha, Qatar, ended up here by searching for "i love silk against my skin feel it trail it over my thighs". Whoa! I wonder what he or she was really looking for. A poem, perhaps? It's certainly pretty specific. This is what the search engine hit on in my journal: "I haven't been active on eBay in over a year. So, how did "Silk ... That's what it feels like, mostly all over my thighs and ... Sometimes I don't know whether to love her, hate her, or feel sorry ...". Bits from hither and yon, unrelated to each other.
Another person, from Durham, North Carolina, found me by searching for "locating and correcting reading difficulties". My journal was on page 18 (!!) of the search results. One wonders, given what he or she was obviously looking for, why he/she bothered to click on and read my journal. Especially when the search hit produced, from this journal, "to lie, and not to allow her to believe untruths by not correcting... I had assumed that the other woman had physical difficulties, but NJ ...".
Accidentally getting this journal when you're searching for something else is one thing. Actually clicking on it and reading it when it's so obviously not what you're looking for is something else. Curiouser and curiouser.
----------------------------------------------------
With such a slow connection, when a site is loading, I can watch the process messages at the bottom, like "Waiting for www.xxx.com", and "Transferring data from www.xxx.com', and so on. More and more lately, I've been seeing mention of "tribalfusion.com" in those messages. Huh? Why do I see a reference to tribalfusion.com when I'm loading something like a news site, or whatever?
Y'all know I have an interest in belly dance. There are several schools or styles - what most people are familiar with is cabaret. I kinda like American Tribal Style (ATS). "Fusion" means a melding of two or more styles or forms. It's entirely possible that in the past I had visited a site named "TribalFusion". So seeing it jumping in there almost every time I visit somewhere else is disturbing.
Turns out tribalfusion.com is an advertising placement site! Nothing whatsoever to do with any form of dance. I wonder how and why they chose that name.
Just another thing I don't understand....
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
777 Tuesday, July 4, 2006 - All Quiet
No big holiday stuff here. Just another day in the village.
I worked at the Maritime Museum today, running the cash register. The Rondout wasn't as crowded as one would expect on a holiday, but we still had a lot of visitors.
There was a large river cruise ship tied up at the museum docks. It seems that it had been headed up river to the Erie Canal toward Buffalo, but because of all the rain, flooding has blown out several of the locks on the canal, and the canal is closed. There have been stories on the TV about people in private boats who are stranded at points along the canal - living on their boats and wondering how they'll get the boats home. The locks may not be repaired for a very long time, if ever.
So anyway, the cruise ship is desperately trying to find alternate things to amuse the passengers. They loaded them on buses today and took them to the Roosevelt Mansion, and after they got back, many of them visited the Maritime Museum.
There are no fireworks in Kingston tonight. Kingston did their fireworks a week or so ago (in pouring rain!). The cruise ship would have done better to have docked near Saugerties or Hudson (but I don't think there's any place they could dock there). Maybe they'll take a run up the river tonight? I hope so.... Otherwise it's pretty sad for the passengers.
As I was typing that, I could hear fireworks. We used to be able to see them from from the deck, from like 25 miles north to 10 miles south, and all the way west to Woodstock, but the trees have grown up too high and thick, and I can't see anything any more. Not while leaves are on the trees, anyway.
Where's all that wind when you need it?
I worked at the Maritime Museum today, running the cash register. The Rondout wasn't as crowded as one would expect on a holiday, but we still had a lot of visitors.
There was a large river cruise ship tied up at the museum docks. It seems that it had been headed up river to the Erie Canal toward Buffalo, but because of all the rain, flooding has blown out several of the locks on the canal, and the canal is closed. There have been stories on the TV about people in private boats who are stranded at points along the canal - living on their boats and wondering how they'll get the boats home. The locks may not be repaired for a very long time, if ever.
So anyway, the cruise ship is desperately trying to find alternate things to amuse the passengers. They loaded them on buses today and took them to the Roosevelt Mansion, and after they got back, many of them visited the Maritime Museum.
There are no fireworks in Kingston tonight. Kingston did their fireworks a week or so ago (in pouring rain!). The cruise ship would have done better to have docked near Saugerties or Hudson (but I don't think there's any place they could dock there). Maybe they'll take a run up the river tonight? I hope so.... Otherwise it's pretty sad for the passengers.
As I was typing that, I could hear fireworks. We used to be able to see them from from the deck, from like 25 miles north to 10 miles south, and all the way west to Woodstock, but the trees have grown up too high and thick, and I can't see anything any more. Not while leaves are on the trees, anyway.
Where's all that wind when you need it?
776 The Votary
This is the musing of a layperson working with too little information, in an effort to explain to herself something she needs to understand in order to handle her own feelings. An excuse. A vindication. So this is more about me than about anyone else (as is everything else in this journal, for that matter - everybody should remember that).
I've been doing a lot of internet research on a medical matter for a friend. Along the way, I came across something interesting.
I found a syndrome in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-IV) that got me thinking. I don't want to get specific as to what it's called, and I have to use different terms to describe it, because if you go look for it, most of what you'll find out there describes the extreme cases, and naturally, it can get pretty sensational. What I'm thinking about isn't sensational. Just interesting.
The syndrome has three levels. The case that interests me is mild, at the lowest of the three levels. There's a name for people at that lowest level. I've been trying to find a good alias, and I've decided to use "The Votary", a term that implies committment and devotion.
The way it starts, The Votary grows up in a family where there are high expectations and little affection expressed. He (it's 10 to 1 a male) feels early on that he isn't good enough, that he is a disappointment to his parents, that nothing he does meets their expectations. He craves his mother's attention and approval, he wants softness from her, but he doesn't get it. He feels inadequate.
Usually between 4 and 10 years of age, The Votary is made aware of someone who has been lamed by an illness or an accident, who uses a legbrace, wheelchair, prosthetic, or other assistance. (Most people with this syndrome are now in their 50s to 70s, and had friends or family members who contracted polio.) His parents admire and express for the impaired person the affection, admiration, and softness that he wants so badly for himself.
Sometimes the child is expected to care for and assist the impaired person, whether they want to or not. Sometimes the child wishes that he himself was impaired, so his parents would love and admire and care for him, too.
Most Votaries grow up to be sensitive, caring, thoughtful, and altruistic adults with a need to be in a loving relationship. They have a strong need to care for others. Caring for others is the highest goal. It brings them fulfillment. It makes them feel worthwhile. It might even bring them the approval they crave. (Approval from themselves? Their parents? Society? Their Diety? A justification for their life, the higher calling above personal happiness?)
They are extremely aware of and solicitous toward handicapped acquaintances, and, seeing someone limping or wearing legbraces might even cause a physiological response. This is the key definition of the lower level of the syndrome - the interest in the lameness, the fascination with the condition, the need to get close to it, to help.
That's general. Let's propose a specific instance:
Along comes a woman. A woman wearing a legbrace, suffering the pain and fatigue of Post-Polio Syndrome, let's say. An attractive recent divorcee, at the moment when The Votary is going through his own divorce. A woman who needs assistance. A Votary who needs emotional support.
There's something called the Polio Personality. People who have had polio tend to be "Type-A" personalities. A drive to succeed, to overcome, to achieve independence, a perfectionist. The diagnosis of PPS can be devastating to someone who has worked so hard all her life to be "normal" despite her handicap. She's in a hard place.
The Votary puts her on a pedestal and sees her as someone to be admired for her strength and courage in overcoming a handicap. He is impressed by the way she copes year after year with her disability and gets on with life so well despite it. He is likely to idealize her. Helping her to cope satisfies a deep need in The Votary.
Helping with the legbrace can have sexual overtones. Physically assisting her when the brace is off is very sexual. So, in theory, the sexual chemistry has a double opportunity to work. Plus, there's her need of him and dependence on him, even though she doesn't want dependence. There's a sexual tension there, too.
Women who have had polio often do not feel sexually attractive, so she may be grateful to The Votary for his sexual interest.
Powerful, eh? Match made in Heaven.
Unfortunately, the literature says that a sexual relationship between The Votary and the object of his devotion is unlikely to end happily. It's not a meeting of two people - it's a condition with needs meeting a need with conditions. Either eventually she begins to suspect that he loves her condition more than he loves her, which would be painful to her, or she falls off the pedestal and he doesn't like what he sees, or her condition changes and he no longer gets the emotional reward that was the impetus and basis of his interest.
Unfortunately, by this time, the woman is dependent on The Votary, and he feels responsible for her care, and they are stuck with each other.
Yeah, I know someone that this might fit. My head went boing when I read the part about the child's family dynamics - it's exactly as he has described his feelings. That's what led me into reading the rest of the article. A few days ago I asked, and he confirmed that when he was seven, his parents made him visit and play with a family acquaintance of his own age, a little boy who'd had polio. (He disliked the kid.) I was floored.
It explains so many odd things he has said to me. It explains the strange almost hypnotic fascination he has for her, even though he knows there's something wrong with their relationship, something "missing". It explains his involvement with me.
(The literature says that Votaries have an unnatural ability to detect impairments anywhere in their vicinity. I often have an almost imperceptible limp, due to the dead nerves in my right ankle. Most people never notice. I wonder if that had anything to do with his initial attraction to me.)
Of course, he won't see the syndrome if it exists. He has to deny it even if it is so, if this is what's going on. If one could see it while one is in it, it would be too psychologically confusing. One could not fall into it so completely if one were aware that's what's going on. But at the same time, he knows there's something wrong. He has said he's confused.
And --- that's what's on my mind today.
I'll think about something else tomorrow.
-------------------------------------------------
I've been doing a lot of internet research on a medical matter for a friend. Along the way, I came across something interesting.
I found a syndrome in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-IV) that got me thinking. I don't want to get specific as to what it's called, and I have to use different terms to describe it, because if you go look for it, most of what you'll find out there describes the extreme cases, and naturally, it can get pretty sensational. What I'm thinking about isn't sensational. Just interesting.
The syndrome has three levels. The case that interests me is mild, at the lowest of the three levels. There's a name for people at that lowest level. I've been trying to find a good alias, and I've decided to use "The Votary", a term that implies committment and devotion.
The way it starts, The Votary grows up in a family where there are high expectations and little affection expressed. He (it's 10 to 1 a male) feels early on that he isn't good enough, that he is a disappointment to his parents, that nothing he does meets their expectations. He craves his mother's attention and approval, he wants softness from her, but he doesn't get it. He feels inadequate.
Usually between 4 and 10 years of age, The Votary is made aware of someone who has been lamed by an illness or an accident, who uses a legbrace, wheelchair, prosthetic, or other assistance. (Most people with this syndrome are now in their 50s to 70s, and had friends or family members who contracted polio.) His parents admire and express for the impaired person the affection, admiration, and softness that he wants so badly for himself.
Sometimes the child is expected to care for and assist the impaired person, whether they want to or not. Sometimes the child wishes that he himself was impaired, so his parents would love and admire and care for him, too.
Most Votaries grow up to be sensitive, caring, thoughtful, and altruistic adults with a need to be in a loving relationship. They have a strong need to care for others. Caring for others is the highest goal. It brings them fulfillment. It makes them feel worthwhile. It might even bring them the approval they crave. (Approval from themselves? Their parents? Society? Their Diety? A justification for their life, the higher calling above personal happiness?)
They are extremely aware of and solicitous toward handicapped acquaintances, and, seeing someone limping or wearing legbraces might even cause a physiological response. This is the key definition of the lower level of the syndrome - the interest in the lameness, the fascination with the condition, the need to get close to it, to help.
That's general. Let's propose a specific instance:
Along comes a woman. A woman wearing a legbrace, suffering the pain and fatigue of Post-Polio Syndrome, let's say. An attractive recent divorcee, at the moment when The Votary is going through his own divorce. A woman who needs assistance. A Votary who needs emotional support.
There's something called the Polio Personality. People who have had polio tend to be "Type-A" personalities. A drive to succeed, to overcome, to achieve independence, a perfectionist. The diagnosis of PPS can be devastating to someone who has worked so hard all her life to be "normal" despite her handicap. She's in a hard place.
The Votary puts her on a pedestal and sees her as someone to be admired for her strength and courage in overcoming a handicap. He is impressed by the way she copes year after year with her disability and gets on with life so well despite it. He is likely to idealize her. Helping her to cope satisfies a deep need in The Votary.
Helping with the legbrace can have sexual overtones. Physically assisting her when the brace is off is very sexual. So, in theory, the sexual chemistry has a double opportunity to work. Plus, there's her need of him and dependence on him, even though she doesn't want dependence. There's a sexual tension there, too.
Women who have had polio often do not feel sexually attractive, so she may be grateful to The Votary for his sexual interest.
Powerful, eh? Match made in Heaven.
Unfortunately, the literature says that a sexual relationship between The Votary and the object of his devotion is unlikely to end happily. It's not a meeting of two people - it's a condition with needs meeting a need with conditions. Either eventually she begins to suspect that he loves her condition more than he loves her, which would be painful to her, or she falls off the pedestal and he doesn't like what he sees, or her condition changes and he no longer gets the emotional reward that was the impetus and basis of his interest.
Unfortunately, by this time, the woman is dependent on The Votary, and he feels responsible for her care, and they are stuck with each other.
-----------------------------------------------------
Yeah, I know someone that this might fit. My head went boing when I read the part about the child's family dynamics - it's exactly as he has described his feelings. That's what led me into reading the rest of the article. A few days ago I asked, and he confirmed that when he was seven, his parents made him visit and play with a family acquaintance of his own age, a little boy who'd had polio. (He disliked the kid.) I was floored.
It explains so many odd things he has said to me. It explains the strange almost hypnotic fascination he has for her, even though he knows there's something wrong with their relationship, something "missing". It explains his involvement with me.
(The literature says that Votaries have an unnatural ability to detect impairments anywhere in their vicinity. I often have an almost imperceptible limp, due to the dead nerves in my right ankle. Most people never notice. I wonder if that had anything to do with his initial attraction to me.)
Of course, he won't see the syndrome if it exists. He has to deny it even if it is so, if this is what's going on. If one could see it while one is in it, it would be too psychologically confusing. One could not fall into it so completely if one were aware that's what's going on. But at the same time, he knows there's something wrong. He has said he's confused.
And --- that's what's on my mind today.
I'll think about something else tomorrow.
Monday, July 03, 2006
775 Monday Moans
Jay always said that you shouldn't drink pure distilled water, because it would pull minerals out of your body. Is this true? Ordinary water doesn't?
I need to have the driveway retopped, the siding washed, and the deck replaced. After shooting the budget on a new roof this year, I thought I'd do all that next year. Then more things came up this year, but might have to wait for next year - I have decided I'm going to have to buy a regular car, and I need to get the side yard raked, graded, and seeded. But I do want to replace the computer this year, and get some kind of faster connection.
Today I admitted that I can't put off replacing the air conditioning any longer.
The current air conditioner is a 24-year-old heat pump. It pulls water from the well and blows air over it and then throughout the house. It's been getting gradually less and less efficient. In 2001 it was fine while there was only Jay and me in the house, but as soon as the nurse or health care assistant came to visit, the temperature shot up. Now it's not good enough even with just me here. By early evening it's 83 degrees, and that's with the attic fan going full blast and the air conditioning on constantly (set at 75). It's still cooler than the outside air during the day, but not by much. I don't want to open windows if I don't have to because of the humidity. (Roman gave me a sheet of white office paper, which I held in my hand while we were talking last Wednesday evening. By the time I got in the car, the paper was actually soggy. I had to iron it.)
I'm going to the Mensa World Gathering at Disney World next month. Ten days at the Coronado Springs Resort (7 days of gathering and three days to visit family and play tourist). I guess I'd better enjoy it. There won't be any more fancy vacations for a while.
I bought my plane tickets for the Gathering. Last time I flew, last summer to New Orleans, I decided that I would never again fly tourist class. The seats are too narrow for me to shift my hips, or to tuck my legs under me, and that gets painful. Plus there's something about the seat backs - they make me bend forward in the wrong places. It takes me three days of pain to recover. So I decided I wanted business class.
There's no business class to Orlando from any airport within two hours of here. I ended up with tickets from Newark, nonstop, first class. At three times the tourist class price. Incredible. They'd better treat me well.
Actually, I could have flown out of White Plains for slightly less, but they have very limited parking there, and I didn't want to take the chance on arriving for my flight and having no place to leave my car.
Would you believe it's cheaper to leave a car for ten days at airport parking, than to rent a car for a one-way trip to or from this area? It's all screwed up.
---------------------------------------
I need to have the driveway retopped, the siding washed, and the deck replaced. After shooting the budget on a new roof this year, I thought I'd do all that next year. Then more things came up this year, but might have to wait for next year - I have decided I'm going to have to buy a regular car, and I need to get the side yard raked, graded, and seeded. But I do want to replace the computer this year, and get some kind of faster connection.
Today I admitted that I can't put off replacing the air conditioning any longer.
The current air conditioner is a 24-year-old heat pump. It pulls water from the well and blows air over it and then throughout the house. It's been getting gradually less and less efficient. In 2001 it was fine while there was only Jay and me in the house, but as soon as the nurse or health care assistant came to visit, the temperature shot up. Now it's not good enough even with just me here. By early evening it's 83 degrees, and that's with the attic fan going full blast and the air conditioning on constantly (set at 75). It's still cooler than the outside air during the day, but not by much. I don't want to open windows if I don't have to because of the humidity. (Roman gave me a sheet of white office paper, which I held in my hand while we were talking last Wednesday evening. By the time I got in the car, the paper was actually soggy. I had to iron it.)
I'm going to the Mensa World Gathering at Disney World next month. Ten days at the Coronado Springs Resort (7 days of gathering and three days to visit family and play tourist). I guess I'd better enjoy it. There won't be any more fancy vacations for a while.
---------------------------------------
I bought my plane tickets for the Gathering. Last time I flew, last summer to New Orleans, I decided that I would never again fly tourist class. The seats are too narrow for me to shift my hips, or to tuck my legs under me, and that gets painful. Plus there's something about the seat backs - they make me bend forward in the wrong places. It takes me three days of pain to recover. So I decided I wanted business class.
There's no business class to Orlando from any airport within two hours of here. I ended up with tickets from Newark, nonstop, first class. At three times the tourist class price. Incredible. They'd better treat me well.
Actually, I could have flown out of White Plains for slightly less, but they have very limited parking there, and I didn't want to take the chance on arriving for my flight and having no place to leave my car.
Would you believe it's cheaper to leave a car for ten days at airport parking, than to rent a car for a one-way trip to or from this area? It's all screwed up.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
774 My Hearing Is 100%! New Jersey Is Not.
Sunday, July 2, 2006I bought some new lightbulbs the other day. They're coiled fluorescent, came in a package of three, and are guaranteed to last 5 years.
I put one in the bedside lamp, and --- whoa! The color of the light is white with a pale icky green cast. Bleck! NOT flattering.
Worse, I can HEAR it! From halfway across the room! It makes a fuzzzzzz sound.
Jay always said he could hear fluorescent lights. He also said he could see the flicker. It's a common characteristic of autism. He hated fluorescent lights.
Great. I've got 15 years of lightbulbs I can't stand the sound of.
--------------------------------------
The state of New Jersey closed yesterday.
Budget disagreements, deadline passed, so all state government offices (except critical services) are closed until further notice.
Daughter and Leading-Candidate-for-Son-In-Law (he's getting closer and closer to the wire) are supposed to get their marriage license on Friday. Apparently it's a big production, because they had to make an appointment, and they need two witnesses who have known them at least 100 years, and everybody, including the witnesses, needs fifty-seven varieties of identification.
This could be a problem.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
772 John Scalzi's Paean to Canada
John Scalzi, of the AOL journal "By The Way...", has written a letter to Canada and posted it in honor of Canada Day. I have copied the whole letter because I think it's wonderful, and I want you to read it, and I know some of you don't want to get the AOL ID required to read his journal. But mostly because I want to keep it, so I can find it again easily in my archives. No, I haven't obtained his permission to copy it, but he gets enough email as it is, and I believe that having given him full credit (and it's not like in copying it I have cost him income from it) it will be ok. If he objects I'll remove it, but I hope that by then you've read it.
John's original is here: http://journals.aol.com/johnmscalzi/bytheway/entries/6146
Dear Canada:
Thank you for being you. As the co-inhabitant on the Great Geographical Duplex known as North America, you are the perfect neighbor: Friendly, decent, hard-working and forgiving. You're the Ned Flanders to our Homer Simpson: Always smiling, always ready to lend a hand, always patient about the return of power tools -- in your case, talent like Mike Meyers or Neil Young, whom we said we were just going to "borrow" for a couple of years, but haven't gotten around to sending back (although, to be fair, we did return Corey Hart in short order, and hardly the worse for wear).
Thank you for never going to war with us. Oh, sure, the British used you as staging grounds for a couple of their wars against us, but that doesn't count; the Brits were abusive, coercive parents to the both of us, so we know they were just using you to get to us, like abusive, coercive parents do sometimes. After we sorted them out, you've been the model of sheer peacefulness, which of course, we've used to our advantage. After all, not having to defend one of the longest contiguous borders in the entire world has saved us a tremendous amount of cash and effort over the years, which we've used to do other things, like, oh, invade Mexico and take over roughly two-thirds of that country.
(Always been touchy neighbor, that Mexico; heck, they practically begged us to invade and take California off their hands for them. We didn't want to do it. Well, maybe James Polk did. But the rest of us could have left well enough alone.)
You, on the other hand, have never given us an excuse to get all Manifest Destiny on you, and that's a fine, fine thing, because you know that in our more intemperate youth, we would have done just that, and then later everyone would have been sorry. Heck, even now, I'm sure there are some elements of our populace who would wouldn't mind stuffing Alberta or British Columbia into a sack if they thought no one was looking -- all that oil and fish and lumber, mmmmm, so tempting. But we'd never do it now. Because you're Canada, our constant, non-belligerent friend, and we couldn't do that to you (at least, so long as you stay in one piece -- another reason to tell those excitable Quebecois to calm the heck down).
We know it can't be easy living with us. It's like being the younger sibling of the Most Famous Person in the World -- the sibling that doesn't actually enjoy fame and went on to become an accountant or some such. When people meet you, they want to talk about your famous sibling and whatever damn fool thing they did that has the newspapers chattering, not about you (or about accounting). And sure, you've gone along with it, more or less politely, but we know that sooner or later it starts to grate on you. You have a life. You have feelings. You're your own country, and sometimes you don't give a crap about what we're doing.
But you still put up with it, and with us. It's more than we do. God forbid someone should ever bring up Canada to us; we'd have a blank look for a second, mumble something like "Oh, yes, Canada, a lovely, lovely country, all that hockey and beer, you know," and then find some way to direct the conversation back to us. We're just that way. It's a weakness. And we're glad you understand it.
And let's be honest. In some ways you're a greater country than the US is. In terms of sheer square mileage (or, in deference to the metric system you use up there, sheer square kilometerage), you've got us beat -- you're the second largest country by land mass, placing silver only to Russia. Also, while you, like we, had this tendency to displace the earlier natives of the land you wanted for yourself, you did a stand-up thing recently and gave many of them their own territory. This is not something I really see the US doing anytime soon -- it's not like we're going to say to our Native Americans, okay, here, have the Dakotas. Also, Macintosh toffee. Please mail me some right now.
Fact is, we don't appreciate you. We ignore you. Despite hearing it played frequently at sporting events, the only two words most of us know of your national anthem are "O, Canada," and that's only because they're also the title of your national anthem. What little of the Canadian culture we do pick up comes from old SCTV skits and Rush albums. You know the name of every US president since Lincoln, whereas we're hard pressed to name your current Prime Minister. The only really nice thing we've done for you in the last couple of decades was to get into a tizzy about those ice skaters a couple of Olympics ago, which prompted media from other places to talk about a "North American bias." We were confused about the "north" part of that.
Well, although I know it won't make up for the years of neglect, or for the waves of draft-dodgers who scurried across your borders, or for stealing the Stanley Cup from you year after year, or for, well, every lame thing we do because we're big, fat, self-centered and oblivious -- I just want to say thank you. Thank you for being so very Canadian: Calm, collected, agreeable with just the merest hint of passive-aggressiveness, which, by the way, we so totally deserve. The fact is, there is no other country we'd prefer to have live with us. Sure, we're all chummy with Britain now, but just imagine what it'd be like if we had to live with them. We'd've nuked them by now. When all is said and done, Canada, we make a perfect pair.
Come here, let's hug. And bring that Macintosh toffee with you.
771 Front Yard Photos
Saturday, July 1, 2006
I had mentioned that I may have lost two more trees in that last storm. Yesterday I was able to get a good look. One tree is leaning, but may be ok. One tree is down. Remember that photo above of the enormous poison ivy vine? It was growing up one trunk of a double-trunk locust. Guess which trunk broke and came down. There's now a 5 foot high, 12 foot diameter, mound of poison ivy in the side yard. Any volunteers to clean it up?
Some photos showing the newly cleared side of the front yard.
A deer:
Isn't it nice the way this "tree" spreads? Only trouble is, it isn't a tree.
Note the vines climbing up the tree trunk in the above photo. THIS is what it really is:
For you city folk, or non-North Americans, that's poison ivy. It's one of the biggest examples I've ever seen. In the next photo, you can see the full plant. The topknot of smaller leaves at the top are the supporting tree, a black locust.
A view of the newly cleared woods at the bottom of the lot. I noticed yesterday that all the wild roses, Virginia creeper, and poison ivy that the kid cleared out are trying to come back. He had cut them, but not killed the roots, so as soon as we have two days without rain, I'll have to fill the sprayer with Roundup and finish the job.
For the first time in the twelve years I've been living here, the house is visible from the road!
I had mentioned that I may have lost two more trees in that last storm. Yesterday I was able to get a good look. One tree is leaning, but may be ok. One tree is down. Remember that photo above of the enormous poison ivy vine? It was growing up one trunk of a double-trunk locust. Guess which trunk broke and came down. There's now a 5 foot high, 12 foot diameter, mound of poison ivy in the side yard. Any volunteers to clean it up?
Friday, June 30, 2006
770 Ashokan Photos
Saturday, July 1, 2006
Photos from my visit to the Ashokan Reservoir yesterday. They didn't come out well because the sun was behind clouds, and the air was full of mist, and I was using an old point-'n-shoot 35 mm camera with no adjustments, but they're good enough for me.
Unfortunately, it's not all that impressive unless you know what the spillway and the falls normally look like. In the spring, with the snowmelt runoff, there's a light "see-through" spill of water over about half the spillway. In summer, there frequently is almost no spill at all. (This is NYC's water supply.)
The spillway from the bridge, looking northwest:
Below the spillway, the water goes into a small stream over rocks. The stream is usually narrow enough for a good athlete to jump over. People like to sit and picnic on the rocks. They are under water now. For scale, those are fullsized mature trees. View from the spillway bridge, looking southeast:
The stream continues south, through a rock chasm. At a point where the chasm is especially narrow and deep, a road crosses on a little bridge, and just north of the bridge, there's a waterfall. It's usually a tall narrow stream of water, bouncing over three or so levels into a deep narrow cleft. There's so much water here now, the cleft is full - there's almost no falls! The roar was deafening. Looking north from the falls bridge:
The water was moving very fast, looked angry. South from the falls bridge:
This is usually a narrow stream deep in a cleft in the rocks. A closer look downstream:
There seemed to be less water than on Thursday. Thursday, where you see the ripple in the middle of the above photo, and at the top of what appears to be another falls just before the flooded trees, the water was shooting straight up into the air. (Or maybe there's more water now, and, being deeper, it's able to flow more smoothly over the obstructing rocks?)All the creeks around here are like this now. I wonder what happens to the fish? There's no way they could fight currents like this, so they must get washed away. Away to where? All the creeks around here end up in the Hudson. Do the fish all get washed to the Hudson? The Hudson is tidal and salty. Can creek fish live in that? And almost all the creeks have a dam somewhere. If the fish get washed over the dam, how can there be ANY fish above the dams?
Just another thing I don't understand.
769 Sore Eye
Friday, June 30, 2006
My left eye is red, burning, and weeping. Great. Friday afternoon of a four-day weekend. Typical. Reminds me of when Daughter was little. She always got sick just before four-day weekends.
On the way home from the reservoir last night I stopped to shop for a clock radio. I also bought two more tops, size small, and looked (unsuccessfully) for some smaller bras. I had parked the rental car in the only available space in the huge parking lot. When I came out of the store, it was raining again, and - oh, joy - I couldn't remember where I'd parked.
With the van, that's never a problem, because, well, I know what the van looks like. And it's BIG. So if I just wander in the general direction, I can see it three aisles over. The rental is small, and silver. Every fifth car in the lot was small and silver. (Every second was an SUV, blocking the view of what's next to it.) I went up and down aisles reading license plates, looking for the number on the key tag.
About 2 am last night I headed for bed, and went to put the new tops away, right on top of the pile of size L's that I don't want to wear any more. They look like maternity tops. So I started sorting tops. I now have two large containers of almost-new tops bound for eBay.
Got to bed around 4:30, asleep at 5, and was awakened by a phone call at 9 am. The Maritime Museum volunteer coordinator called, wondering if I could work the gift shop on July 4th. They were going to be closed on the 4th, but then decided to open for the afternoon. (Sheesh. Mickey Mouse outfit. A museum in a tourist area, and they were going to be closed?) I'll be there alone. What the hell, I have no life, yeah, sure, I'll be there. I'll take a book.
Not a good day so far. But it's not raining, and I'll go back to the reservoir with a camera, and maybe things will get better.
My left eye is red, burning, and weeping. Great. Friday afternoon of a four-day weekend. Typical. Reminds me of when Daughter was little. She always got sick just before four-day weekends.
On the way home from the reservoir last night I stopped to shop for a clock radio. I also bought two more tops, size small, and looked (unsuccessfully) for some smaller bras. I had parked the rental car in the only available space in the huge parking lot. When I came out of the store, it was raining again, and - oh, joy - I couldn't remember where I'd parked.
With the van, that's never a problem, because, well, I know what the van looks like. And it's BIG. So if I just wander in the general direction, I can see it three aisles over. The rental is small, and silver. Every fifth car in the lot was small and silver. (Every second was an SUV, blocking the view of what's next to it.) I went up and down aisles reading license plates, looking for the number on the key tag.
About 2 am last night I headed for bed, and went to put the new tops away, right on top of the pile of size L's that I don't want to wear any more. They look like maternity tops. So I started sorting tops. I now have two large containers of almost-new tops bound for eBay.
Got to bed around 4:30, asleep at 5, and was awakened by a phone call at 9 am. The Maritime Museum volunteer coordinator called, wondering if I could work the gift shop on July 4th. They were going to be closed on the 4th, but then decided to open for the afternoon. (Sheesh. Mickey Mouse outfit. A museum in a tourist area, and they were going to be closed?) I'll be there alone. What the hell, I have no life, yeah, sure, I'll be there. I'll take a book.
Not a good day so far. But it's not raining, and I'll go back to the reservoir with a camera, and maybe things will get better.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
768 Ashokan; Trees Down
Thursday, June 29, 2006
I went to the Ashokan Reservoir this evening to see what the rain has done. There's the spillway, where excess water spills over and resumes being a creek. A little further down, the creek passes through a narrow rock gorge, and there's a pretty little falls you can see from the bridge over the creek.
In all the years I've been visiting the reservoir, I have never seen it like it was this evening. The gorge was especially amazing- the entire cleft was full of water, and it was shooting water straight up in the air everywhere it was hitting rocks underneath, places where ordinarily it changes direction, weaving back and forth. There were thousands of swallows wheeling in the air over the water.
I'm going back tomorrow, and tomorrow I won't forget the camera. Pictures will be posted sometime.
It started raining while I was at Ashokan. By the time I got near Kingston, it was raining so hard I decided to take refuge in a diner and have a sandwich, until it stopped. As I was driving on home, I could see a lot of lightening in the direction of home. Big sky to ground bolts, about one every five seconds. Stuff was getting hit.
When I got to the village, I found out what was getting hit. The post office has two beautifully-shaped trees in front. Not big, maybe 20 feet, but spreading. The trunks go up maybe 10 feet and then divide into many spreading branches that are covered in flowers at the end of the branches in mid-summer, and bright yellow-pink leaves in fall. I always wanted to find out what they are, so I could get one for my front yard.
Both trees are now all over the road, getting cut up with chain saws. Sad. I could see men directing traffic around something in the road, and I rolled down the window, and when I got close enough to see what they were cutting up I shouted "Oh, no!" so loud I startled the flagman.
It didn't look like wind damage exactly. The "outside" branches on each tree are ok, but the upwardly spreading branches look like they got split open, like they exploded. They look like pieces of shattered toothpick sticking up. The whole center of each tree, except for the toothpicks, is gone. You see that with lightening damage. I guess I'll find out tomorrow.
Because my street is high, we often get the worst of the wind. There were small and medium sized branches all over the street, and one major tree down, at the house before mine, that I had to inch around. It was too dark to say for sure, but it sorta looks like I may have lost two more trees in the woods. I haven't been able to check the back yard yet.
This is all very weird.
I went to the Ashokan Reservoir this evening to see what the rain has done. There's the spillway, where excess water spills over and resumes being a creek. A little further down, the creek passes through a narrow rock gorge, and there's a pretty little falls you can see from the bridge over the creek.
In all the years I've been visiting the reservoir, I have never seen it like it was this evening. The gorge was especially amazing- the entire cleft was full of water, and it was shooting water straight up in the air everywhere it was hitting rocks underneath, places where ordinarily it changes direction, weaving back and forth. There were thousands of swallows wheeling in the air over the water.
I'm going back tomorrow, and tomorrow I won't forget the camera. Pictures will be posted sometime.
It started raining while I was at Ashokan. By the time I got near Kingston, it was raining so hard I decided to take refuge in a diner and have a sandwich, until it stopped. As I was driving on home, I could see a lot of lightening in the direction of home. Big sky to ground bolts, about one every five seconds. Stuff was getting hit.
When I got to the village, I found out what was getting hit. The post office has two beautifully-shaped trees in front. Not big, maybe 20 feet, but spreading. The trunks go up maybe 10 feet and then divide into many spreading branches that are covered in flowers at the end of the branches in mid-summer, and bright yellow-pink leaves in fall. I always wanted to find out what they are, so I could get one for my front yard.
Both trees are now all over the road, getting cut up with chain saws. Sad. I could see men directing traffic around something in the road, and I rolled down the window, and when I got close enough to see what they were cutting up I shouted "Oh, no!" so loud I startled the flagman.
It didn't look like wind damage exactly. The "outside" branches on each tree are ok, but the upwardly spreading branches look like they got split open, like they exploded. They look like pieces of shattered toothpick sticking up. The whole center of each tree, except for the toothpicks, is gone. You see that with lightening damage. I guess I'll find out tomorrow.
Because my street is high, we often get the worst of the wind. There were small and medium sized branches all over the street, and one major tree down, at the house before mine, that I had to inch around. It was too dark to say for sure, but it sorta looks like I may have lost two more trees in the woods. I haven't been able to check the back yard yet.
This is all very weird.
767 Hooked on Cigarettes, Yummies, or Sex - Pick One.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
I was sitting here reading, glanced down at my thigh, and saw an odd black spot. Tiny. It wouldn't brush off. I bent me double so I could get a good look at it. Tick. Nymph. Mouthparts pulled out easily, so I guess it hadn't been "hooked on" for long, but long enough to inject some blood thinner, 'cause there's now a red spot and a tiny lump under the skin.
Now of course I'm feeling things walking all over me. I worry because I have no one to check my back and other awkward places. I can't do it with mirrors because my eyes aren't good enough, and I can't focus in certain ranges. The only way I could identify this as a tick was to take my glasses off and get nose-close. Little hard to do that with my backside.
With all the rain, my complaint about car windows is back. Used to be that there was a channel around the top of the side windows, so rain from the roof and blown from the windshield was directed around the windows. Like a house gutter works. In cars these days, it seems that channel is missing. The top of the door is smooth, and the sides of the cars have a lot of slope. So when you drive (or even just sit) in the rain with the window slightly open, even just an inch, rain pours in. More than what just falls on that spot, all the rain from that side of the roof and from the side of the windshield drips - more than just drips - is directed! - right in.
Then they put all the electrical buttons for locks, power windows and mirrors, everything, on the door. On a horizontal place. Right where the rain is funneled in. Right into the buttons. That can't be good. Even if you never open the window in the rain, if you open the door in a torrent, those buttons all collect water.
There's an auto supply store next to the rental car office, so yesterday I bought some curved plastic doohickys that you stick on over the windows. They keep wind from blowing in so hard, and maybe they'll block water, too. Next time I get to visit my van, I'll stick 'em on.
I fell asleep last night with the TV on. Rare, because I almost never watch TV in bed. I can't see it well when I'm lying down, and at the time I usually go to bed, there's nothing but infomercials on. (No cable here.)
Anyway, I woke up this morning to voices on TV, and it felt good! Usually I wake to silence, and that feels so lonesome. Starts the day out lonesome. I think I'll buy me a clock radio.
Why do all those hour-long infomercials think they have to have music in the background? Not even real music. It's the same 8 or 10 notes repeated over and over. And over. And over. For an hour. Even if I were interested in whatever they were selling, the "music" drives me away by the third bar.
I want to quit smoking. It's finally really time. It's finally coming from within, which means it finally has a chance of working. But there's a problem.
Cigarettes. Yummies. Sex.
I can do without any two of the above, but not all three at once. Sorry, I really can't.
Example 1 - When I try to go without cigarettes on my own, suddenly the jelly beans and peanut butter cups and potato chips that have been so easy to resist (not even resist - I've had no desire for them this past year) occupy the empty spaces in my mind. I want them! I need them! Combine that with the lowered metabolism when you quit smoking, and my desire to lose these last 20 lbs, and I'm in trouble.
Example 2 - When I am with Roman, I can go without cigarettes, and I don't get food cravings, either. Of course, the longest that's been tested is three days, but I'm confident, given the way I felt on the third day, that it could have been longer. Long enough to detox and lose more weight. But as soon as I leave him, always with the possibility in mind that that was the last time, I immediately need a cigarette. Or a hot fudge sundae.
So before I quit smoking, either I have to lose the last bit of weight and unbury the treadmill, so I can go ahead and indulge my yummy cravings, or I have to find me a man of my own. Preferably both. Otherwise, two weeks in I could break into a Quick Shop in the middle of the night, gobble all the yummies, and rape the clerk. (And if it were Tall Dark & Handsome II, the guy in the village, the temptation is huge!)
I guess I'm just too sensual for words.... (ok, weak. go away.)
I was sitting here reading, glanced down at my thigh, and saw an odd black spot. Tiny. It wouldn't brush off. I bent me double so I could get a good look at it. Tick. Nymph. Mouthparts pulled out easily, so I guess it hadn't been "hooked on" for long, but long enough to inject some blood thinner, 'cause there's now a red spot and a tiny lump under the skin.
Now of course I'm feeling things walking all over me. I worry because I have no one to check my back and other awkward places. I can't do it with mirrors because my eyes aren't good enough, and I can't focus in certain ranges. The only way I could identify this as a tick was to take my glasses off and get nose-close. Little hard to do that with my backside.
--------------------------------------
With all the rain, my complaint about car windows is back. Used to be that there was a channel around the top of the side windows, so rain from the roof and blown from the windshield was directed around the windows. Like a house gutter works. In cars these days, it seems that channel is missing. The top of the door is smooth, and the sides of the cars have a lot of slope. So when you drive (or even just sit) in the rain with the window slightly open, even just an inch, rain pours in. More than what just falls on that spot, all the rain from that side of the roof and from the side of the windshield drips - more than just drips - is directed! - right in.
Then they put all the electrical buttons for locks, power windows and mirrors, everything, on the door. On a horizontal place. Right where the rain is funneled in. Right into the buttons. That can't be good. Even if you never open the window in the rain, if you open the door in a torrent, those buttons all collect water.
There's an auto supply store next to the rental car office, so yesterday I bought some curved plastic doohickys that you stick on over the windows. They keep wind from blowing in so hard, and maybe they'll block water, too. Next time I get to visit my van, I'll stick 'em on.
--------------------------------------
I fell asleep last night with the TV on. Rare, because I almost never watch TV in bed. I can't see it well when I'm lying down, and at the time I usually go to bed, there's nothing but infomercials on. (No cable here.)
Anyway, I woke up this morning to voices on TV, and it felt good! Usually I wake to silence, and that feels so lonesome. Starts the day out lonesome. I think I'll buy me a clock radio.
--------------------------------------
Why do all those hour-long infomercials think they have to have music in the background? Not even real music. It's the same 8 or 10 notes repeated over and over. And over. And over. For an hour. Even if I were interested in whatever they were selling, the "music" drives me away by the third bar.
--------------------------------------
I want to quit smoking. It's finally really time. It's finally coming from within, which means it finally has a chance of working. But there's a problem.
Cigarettes. Yummies. Sex.
I can do without any two of the above, but not all three at once. Sorry, I really can't.
Example 1 - When I try to go without cigarettes on my own, suddenly the jelly beans and peanut butter cups and potato chips that have been so easy to resist (not even resist - I've had no desire for them this past year) occupy the empty spaces in my mind. I want them! I need them! Combine that with the lowered metabolism when you quit smoking, and my desire to lose these last 20 lbs, and I'm in trouble.
Example 2 - When I am with Roman, I can go without cigarettes, and I don't get food cravings, either. Of course, the longest that's been tested is three days, but I'm confident, given the way I felt on the third day, that it could have been longer. Long enough to detox and lose more weight. But as soon as I leave him, always with the possibility in mind that that was the last time, I immediately need a cigarette. Or a hot fudge sundae.
So before I quit smoking, either I have to lose the last bit of weight and unbury the treadmill, so I can go ahead and indulge my yummy cravings, or I have to find me a man of my own. Preferably both. Otherwise, two weeks in I could break into a Quick Shop in the middle of the night, gobble all the yummies, and rape the clerk. (And if it were Tall Dark & Handsome II, the guy in the village, the temptation is huge!)
I guess I'm just too sensual for words.... (ok, weak. go away.)
766 More 800-503-7001
I'm still getting several search hits a day, people looking for info on 800-503-7001, but almost no one is leaving a comment as to their experience, so thank you Wolfgang for leaving the following comment and letting me know what's been happening. (And, uh, let us know whether you get billed!)
If you are here because you got an odd call from that number, please leave a comment on this post and tell us what your experience was. (If you don't have a Blogger account, don't worry about the "Login" part of the comments form - it won't be necessary to actually log in.)
I'll be happy to act as "800-503-7001 Central". Come back and see what others have to say.
At 5:28 PM EDT, Wolfgang K said...
When you see the Caller ID 800-503-7001 DO NOT PICK-UP!!!
Today, 06/28/2006 at 13:11 PDT I received a call from them, stating that they are [why-pe-dot-com], something like yp.com.
The guy on the phone initially only wanted to confirm my business information he had for a yellow page listing and then said that they would offer me premium service for free. After he had confirmed all the info with me on the phone, he brought an automated and recording service on the line that asked to answer the questions after the beep. Answers will be recorded, he said and that I am not supposed to hit pound after each answer, instead he would do so for me.
So as soon as I had answered the questions like what is the business name and address and my name and title, they said that they now will start with a free complimentary yellow page business listing that will be upgraded automatically after ten days and the monthly service charge of $39.99 will be billed directly on the next phone bill. I clearly said 'no' at that time and that I am not accepting any such offer. Outrageously enough the guys said, you need to answer with 'yes' to confirm your understanding that you will have to call to cancel your service, do you understand? At that time I said 'no, I am not accepting any service' and assume that this still would have been recorded. So technically, I should be OK and they should not be able to charge anything on my phone bill.
Since they apparently can bill through the phone company, there must be some sort of affiliation even though the automated voice said that there was no direct relationship with the public phone service provider. Since they have the ability to charging their service on the phone bill they must be regulated under FCC regulations - I assume.
Somebody should go and get them!
If you are here because you got an odd call from that number, please leave a comment on this post and tell us what your experience was. (If you don't have a Blogger account, don't worry about the "Login" part of the comments form - it won't be necessary to actually log in.)
I'll be happy to act as "800-503-7001 Central". Come back and see what others have to say.
------------------------------------
At 5:28 PM EDT, Wolfgang K said...
When you see the Caller ID 800-503-7001 DO NOT PICK-UP!!!
Today, 06/28/2006 at 13:11 PDT I received a call from them, stating that they are [why-pe-dot-com], something like yp.com.
The guy on the phone initially only wanted to confirm my business information he had for a yellow page listing and then said that they would offer me premium service for free. After he had confirmed all the info with me on the phone, he brought an automated and recording service on the line that asked to answer the questions after the beep. Answers will be recorded, he said and that I am not supposed to hit pound after each answer, instead he would do so for me.
So as soon as I had answered the questions like what is the business name and address and my name and title, they said that they now will start with a free complimentary yellow page business listing that will be upgraded automatically after ten days and the monthly service charge of $39.99 will be billed directly on the next phone bill. I clearly said 'no' at that time and that I am not accepting any such offer. Outrageously enough the guys said, you need to answer with 'yes' to confirm your understanding that you will have to call to cancel your service, do you understand? At that time I said 'no, I am not accepting any service' and assume that this still would have been recorded. So technically, I should be OK and they should not be able to charge anything on my phone bill.
Since they apparently can bill through the phone company, there must be some sort of affiliation even though the automated voice said that there was no direct relationship with the public phone service provider. Since they have the ability to charging their service on the phone bill they must be regulated under FCC regulations - I assume.
Somebody should go and get them!
------------------------------------
In the call I got, the woman didn't get any further than comfirming that I am (Hidden), and then she hung up. No explanation of why she wanted to know, which messed with my head more than a little.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
765 Wednesday
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
I took the van back to Mr. T. early this morning. They "wiped the codes", I guess that means they reset the van's computer, and they told me to drive it for a few days and see what happens.
I decided to drive around right then. I got 15 miles and it was perfectly fine, and then suddenly it hesitated a few times, the check engine light went on, and almost immediately it stalled, right in the middle of an intersection. It took three tries to get it to start again.
I think it's the computer. Either the computer is bad, or it's getting bad input. GIGO. The van ran fine until the computer had acquired enough info to start trying to adjust stuff, and then it choked the engine. That's what I think. But what do I know.
Limped back to Mr. T.'s. He wasn't happy. Got another Enterprise rental. Enterprise is starting to feel sorry for me. They gave me a Kia, with $20/day off the regular price.
Dinner this evening with Mensa, an Indian restaurant in New Paltz. I wore a sari.
Roman and I talked for a while at the car after dinner, and I offended him again. We had a good phone conversation last night, and he called to make sure I was awake early this morning, but it was like I had to annoy him to push him away this evening. Which really wasn't necessary. I had sat across the table from him through dinner (so much for his promise to always save me a seat next to him - I arrived late), and he avoided my eyes all evening. I guess it will take us a while to figure out how to relate.
Oh, well, just as well, I guess. I need someone who is more open and less guarded. But just as sensitive, intelligent, and furry. Big order. Not easy. Discouraging.
I took the van back to Mr. T. early this morning. They "wiped the codes", I guess that means they reset the van's computer, and they told me to drive it for a few days and see what happens.
I decided to drive around right then. I got 15 miles and it was perfectly fine, and then suddenly it hesitated a few times, the check engine light went on, and almost immediately it stalled, right in the middle of an intersection. It took three tries to get it to start again.
I think it's the computer. Either the computer is bad, or it's getting bad input. GIGO. The van ran fine until the computer had acquired enough info to start trying to adjust stuff, and then it choked the engine. That's what I think. But what do I know.
Limped back to Mr. T.'s. He wasn't happy. Got another Enterprise rental. Enterprise is starting to feel sorry for me. They gave me a Kia, with $20/day off the regular price.
Dinner this evening with Mensa, an Indian restaurant in New Paltz. I wore a sari.
Roman and I talked for a while at the car after dinner, and I offended him again. We had a good phone conversation last night, and he called to make sure I was awake early this morning, but it was like I had to annoy him to push him away this evening. Which really wasn't necessary. I had sat across the table from him through dinner (so much for his promise to always save me a seat next to him - I arrived late), and he avoided my eyes all evening. I guess it will take us a while to figure out how to relate.
Oh, well, just as well, I guess. I need someone who is more open and less guarded. But just as sensitive, intelligent, and furry. Big order. Not easy. Discouraging.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
764 "freedbacking" and "bloglines"
[Later edit - added the "oops" at the bottom.]
The Blogger folks want feedback. We are to post our comments and suggestions, with the words "freedbacking" and "bloglines" in the post, so they can collect them.
Okey Dokey. Here's mine.
When a visitor comes into my blog at a particular entry, rather than the main page, they see the "About Me" and a list of posts previous to this particular one, but they do not see the archives links, posts subsequent to this one, nor my other links. There is no obvious way the visitor can get to posts after (later than) the one they came in to - and that's likely the direction they'd want to go. So -
The second suggestion concerns viewing the archives. Displaying one month's worth all at once can make for a huge page! And it's sometimes difficult to find a particular entry or date unless you can remember a unique word combination to search on. So -
Other than that, I'm happy.
[Oops? I notice that most others are posting comments and suggestions for Bloglines. I thought they wanted comments on Bloglines and/or Blogger. My suggestions apply to Blogger only. They are the same folks, aren't they? No? Oh well. Maybe they'll pass it along.]
The Blogger folks want feedback. We are to post our comments and suggestions, with the words "freedbacking" and "bloglines" in the post, so they can collect them.
Okey Dokey. Here's mine.
When a visitor comes into my blog at a particular entry, rather than the main page, they see the "About Me" and a list of posts previous to this particular one, but they do not see the archives links, posts subsequent to this one, nor my other links. There is no obvious way the visitor can get to posts after (later than) the one they came in to - and that's likely the direction they'd want to go. So -
- When one post is showing, we need "Forward" and "Back" buttons, at the least.
- It would be nice if the full Archives list was also provided with a single entry.
- (It would be best if all the usual "non-body" stuff were included with a single post, but hey, I don't want to be greedy....)
The second suggestion concerns viewing the archives. Displaying one month's worth all at once can make for a huge page! And it's sometimes difficult to find a particular entry or date unless you can remember a unique word combination to search on. So -
- Instead of displaying a month of archived posts as one huge page, could they be displayed as date, title (the link), and the first ten words? Sort of like what you get when you use the "Search this blog" button.
Other than that, I'm happy.
[Oops? I notice that most others are posting comments and suggestions for Bloglines. I thought they wanted comments on Bloglines and/or Blogger. My suggestions apply to Blogger only. They are the same folks, aren't they? No? Oh well. Maybe they'll pass it along.]
763 My Mini-Van Is Trying to Kill Me
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Got the call from Mr. T. this afternoon that the van was all fixed and ready to go. It seems it was again (third time) a bad sensor. The first two were the O2 sensor, this time it was the cam position sensor. $165. I paid for the repair, transferred my junk from the rental car back to the van, and drove the rental to Kingston to return it. Enterprise provided a driver to take me back to Mr. T.'s.
Started up the van, got about two blocks down the road, and --- the check engine light went on.
I caught Mr. T. in the parking lot as he was closing up. He said "You're kidding. I drove it to Rhinebeck and back this morning to test it, and it was fine. You drive it a half mile, and it breaks." He says it's time to trade it in. "It's seven years old, and it's going to start costing more to fix it than it's worth."
Well, it's not really seven years old. It's a Braun conversion Chrysler-Dodge Entervan (watch the little movie at the link), so although it's a 2000 model, it didn't go on the market until 2001. The odometer just turned 40,000 miles. The only thing that has ever gone wrong with it is those silly sensors. And it's more than just a mini-van. It's an easy-to-load enclosed "pickup truck", a camper, and a passenger car all rolled into one. I can stand up straight inside. I love it! I'm not ready to give it up.
But it's killing me.
So, it goes back in early tomorrow morning. I may or may not have to rent another car. Bleck.
Got the call from Mr. T. this afternoon that the van was all fixed and ready to go. It seems it was again (third time) a bad sensor. The first two were the O2 sensor, this time it was the cam position sensor. $165. I paid for the repair, transferred my junk from the rental car back to the van, and drove the rental to Kingston to return it. Enterprise provided a driver to take me back to Mr. T.'s.
Started up the van, got about two blocks down the road, and --- the check engine light went on.
I caught Mr. T. in the parking lot as he was closing up. He said "You're kidding. I drove it to Rhinebeck and back this morning to test it, and it was fine. You drive it a half mile, and it breaks." He says it's time to trade it in. "It's seven years old, and it's going to start costing more to fix it than it's worth."
Well, it's not really seven years old. It's a Braun conversion Chrysler-Dodge Entervan (watch the little movie at the link), so although it's a 2000 model, it didn't go on the market until 2001. The odometer just turned 40,000 miles. The only thing that has ever gone wrong with it is those silly sensors. And it's more than just a mini-van. It's an easy-to-load enclosed "pickup truck", a camper, and a passenger car all rolled into one. I can stand up straight inside. I love it! I'm not ready to give it up.
But it's killing me.
So, it goes back in early tomorrow morning. I may or may not have to rent another car. Bleck.
762 Say It, Sister!
You want to work up a little righteous indignation? Read this: http://alienmemoirs.typepad.com/my_weblog/2006/06/iran_auschwitz_.html, from Aya.
("We" and "our" refers to the Middle East in general, and Saudi Arabia in particular.)
("We" and "our" refers to the Middle East in general, and Saudi Arabia in particular.)
Monday, June 26, 2006
761 800-503-7001
[Edit 08/30/2006 - Google turns up this entry for people searching on "800-503-7001". If that includes you, dear reader, please go to this later entry instead, and leave a comment.]
Heh heh! I'm still getting hits from people searching for information on that strange phone number, like six more today. I know why my entry shows up in the search results list, but I couldn't understand why anyone would bother to actually go look at it. There must be more promising stuff out there.
So I searched for 800-503-7001 in Google, and guess what? I'm the only hit! Snork!
The searchers are probably disappointed, not only because I have nothing to offer, but, because all these entries are ONE PAGE, they are presented with the whole thing, not the 800-503-7001 piece. They could search the blog at the top, but I don't think they do. They take one look, give up, and leave. Snork snork.
Besides, the entries with the comments that could shed light don't have the number in them.
(So, if you're here looking for info on 800-503-7001, there's no answer here. Could be international call, calling card call, blocked number, bleck. Theories, no facts. My case was a female voice who asked "Are you Silk-En-Drum?" and hung up immediately when I said yes. Stalker?)
Heh heh! I'm still getting hits from people searching for information on that strange phone number, like six more today. I know why my entry shows up in the search results list, but I couldn't understand why anyone would bother to actually go look at it. There must be more promising stuff out there.
So I searched for 800-503-7001 in Google, and guess what? I'm the only hit! Snork!
The searchers are probably disappointed, not only because I have nothing to offer, but, because all these entries are ONE PAGE, they are presented with the whole thing, not the 800-503-7001 piece. They could search the blog at the top, but I don't think they do. They take one look, give up, and leave. Snork snork.
Besides, the entries with the comments that could shed light don't have the number in them.
(So, if you're here looking for info on 800-503-7001, there's no answer here. Could be international call, calling card call, blocked number, bleck. Theories, no facts. My case was a female voice who asked "Are you Silk-En-Drum?" and hung up immediately when I said yes. Stalker?)
760 Tree Attacks
Monday, June 26, 2006
I heard a sound outside this afternoon, like someone was unloading boxes from a truck in the driveway, but I hadn't heard a truck come up the drive. I went outside to look for the source of the noise, and found a tree had fallen in the newly cleared woods.
A black locust had split diagonally about 15 feet up the trunk, and the top 50 feet of the tree had fallen. Luckily, it fell toward the property line, not across the driveway, but it took out the cord the kid had so painstakingly laid to mark the lot line.
I forgot to mention that a tree fell on the road as I was returning from a meeting in Highland last evening. I was entering the village (the speed limit had just dropped from 55 to 40mph, which was lucky), and suddenly, whoosh, a tree fell from the right verge, across the road very close in front of me. I whipped into the left lane and shoulder, so I bounced over some smaller branches from the top of the tree. The tires on the rental car felt wobbly for a few blocks, but then it straightened out, so no damage done. But it sure was scary. I don't know what would have happened if I'd hit the trunk, or if there had been a car coming from the other direction - or if it fell on me!
Hmmmmm. I never did look to see if there were any scratches on the side of the car. Ok, I just went out and looked. It's ok. I'd hate to have to explain to Enterprise.
Oh, and I haven't heard anything about the van yet. Not good.
We've had rain for most days of every week for a long time now. Heavy rain, not just showers. There's standing water everywhere, and frequent crawls across the bottom of the TV screen, warning of flooding. Except for a few thunderstorms, there hasn't been much wind, so I don't know why these trees are breaking partway up, as opposed to uprooting from the soggy ground. In both cases, there was only a little high wind. Gently waving treetops, not like in past storms, when I've seen these same trees bent almost parallel to the ground. (It takes a LOT to put a 90 degree bend in a black locust!)
I don't much care for rain anyway, but the weather lately feels almost ominous. The air is green.
I heard a sound outside this afternoon, like someone was unloading boxes from a truck in the driveway, but I hadn't heard a truck come up the drive. I went outside to look for the source of the noise, and found a tree had fallen in the newly cleared woods.
A black locust had split diagonally about 15 feet up the trunk, and the top 50 feet of the tree had fallen. Luckily, it fell toward the property line, not across the driveway, but it took out the cord the kid had so painstakingly laid to mark the lot line.
I forgot to mention that a tree fell on the road as I was returning from a meeting in Highland last evening. I was entering the village (the speed limit had just dropped from 55 to 40mph, which was lucky), and suddenly, whoosh, a tree fell from the right verge, across the road very close in front of me. I whipped into the left lane and shoulder, so I bounced over some smaller branches from the top of the tree. The tires on the rental car felt wobbly for a few blocks, but then it straightened out, so no damage done. But it sure was scary. I don't know what would have happened if I'd hit the trunk, or if there had been a car coming from the other direction - or if it fell on me!
Hmmmmm. I never did look to see if there were any scratches on the side of the car. Ok, I just went out and looked. It's ok. I'd hate to have to explain to Enterprise.
Oh, and I haven't heard anything about the van yet. Not good.
We've had rain for most days of every week for a long time now. Heavy rain, not just showers. There's standing water everywhere, and frequent crawls across the bottom of the TV screen, warning of flooding. Except for a few thunderstorms, there hasn't been much wind, so I don't know why these trees are breaking partway up, as opposed to uprooting from the soggy ground. In both cases, there was only a little high wind. Gently waving treetops, not like in past storms, when I've seen these same trees bent almost parallel to the ground. (It takes a LOT to put a 90 degree bend in a black locust!)
I don't much care for rain anyway, but the weather lately feels almost ominous. The air is green.
759 Dance Video
I hesitated at first to post this without specific permission, but it's on her commercial website, and I have pointed people there before, so anyone could get there on their own, and besides, recognition and advertising ain't bad, so.... without futher ado:
If you have a fast connection, like cable, watch this:
http://www.crimsongypsy.com/dance/WillowFloorworkLg.mov
This is Willow. The video is in Quicktime format, about 48 mb. Without a fast connection you won't get the full effect, you'll miss the fluidity. Note the controlled strength, the sensuousness, the power.
Absolutely amazing. (With my dialup connection, I haven't seen this video, but I saw the live performance on June 17 in New Paltz, where this was taped.)
You're welcome.
If you have a fast connection, like cable, watch this:
http://www.crimsongypsy.com/dance/Willo
This is Willow. The video is in Quicktime format, about 48 mb. Without a fast connection you won't get the full effect, you'll miss the fluidity. Note the controlled strength, the sensuousness, the power.
Absolutely amazing. (With my dialup connection, I haven't seen this video, but I saw the live performance on June 17 in New Paltz, where this was taped.)
You're welcome.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
758 Spyware Zapping
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Last night I installed Spybot - Search & Destroy, and started a scan. After one hour, Spybot had scanned all of about 8,000 of 41,392 files, or definititons, or whatever that number is. I left it running and went to bed.
When I checked this morning, I expected to see the promised red and green list of bad stuff and maybe-ok stuff. Instead, I found ... nothing. Then I noticed that some things that I had stopped before starting Spybot, like the external hard drive handler, were up. Apparently, sometime during the night, the system had restarted.
Spybot wouldn't do that. About the only time I've seen the system re-IPL itself is when the electricity bounced. And when power blinks enough to cause that, household clocks are left blinking - especially the one on the microwave.
The microwave is not blinking.
I have no idea what happened.
I restarted Spybot, and it seems to be running faster this morning, even though I'm typing this into Notepad at the same time.
-----------------------------------------------
Well, an hour and a half later, it has found:
Last night I installed Spybot - Search & Destroy, and started a scan. After one hour, Spybot had scanned all of about 8,000 of 41,392 files, or definititons, or whatever that number is. I left it running and went to bed.
When I checked this morning, I expected to see the promised red and green list of bad stuff and maybe-ok stuff. Instead, I found ... nothing. Then I noticed that some things that I had stopped before starting Spybot, like the external hard drive handler, were up. Apparently, sometime during the night, the system had restarted.
Spybot wouldn't do that. About the only time I've seen the system re-IPL itself is when the electricity bounced. And when power blinks enough to cause that, household clocks are left blinking - especially the one on the microwave.
The microwave is not blinking.
I have no idea what happened.
I restarted Spybot, and it seems to be running faster this morning, even though I'm typing this into Notepad at the same time.
-----------------------------------------------
Well, an hour and a half later, it has found:
- Ferret
- Hotbar
- WebTrends live
- ValueClick
- SexTracker (?!?!)
- MediaPlex
- HitBox
- FastClick
- DoubleClickCoreMetrics
- CasaleMedia
- BFast
- Avenue A, Inc
- Alexa Related
- Adviva
- Advertising.com
- Bluemountain
- BonziBuddy
757 My Power Color
| Your Power Color Is Red-Orange |
 At Your Highest: You are warm, sensitive, and focused on your personal growth. At Your Lowest: You become defensive and critical if you feel attacked. In Love: You are loyal - but you demand the respect you deserve. How You're Attractive: You are very affectionate and inspire trust. Your Eternal Question: "Am I Respected?" |
-----------------------------
I got to thinking about how the above is so true for me. Weird how sometimes these stupid quizzes seem to come out right on the mark. (Of course - if they don't, the results don't get posted.) Anyhow, I decided to take the test again, but to answer as a particular friend would answer.
| Your Power Color Is Teal |
 At Your Highest: You feel accomplished and optimistic about the future. At Your Lowest: You feel in a slump and lack creativity. In Love: You tend to be many people's ideal partner. How You're Attractive: You make people feel confident and accepted. Your Eternal Question: "What Impression Am I Giving?" |
This is scary. It's perfect! Even weirder, the two colors chosen have significance. No other colors would have meant anything, but these do. I'm getting that weird feeling again....
Saturday, June 24, 2006
756 Craft Fair; Back Hurting
I went to the craft fair at the fairgrounds. This is the second one this year. I go even if I don't intend to buy anything because everything is so beautiful. It most certainly isn't junk. It's like a big collection of boutiques. There are usually more than 300 vendors, and one building is all almost all foods, with samples offered (including tastes from many local wineries).
There used to be one fair per year in Rhinebeck, and one in New Paltz, Memorial Day and Labor Day. Now there are several during the year, and I don't understand why, because you overhear the vendors telling each other they haven't sold much of anything, and complaining about all the lookers and no buyers. I hear it a dozen times every visit.
Partly it's because things are so ridiculously expensive. There was a woman who had short jackets made of the same iridescent Thai silk I've been buying (direct from Thailand) for $7 or less a 45"-wide yard. The jackets use no more than a yard and a half each (including the lining in a lighter silk), and are a simple design. Once you got going, and cut the patterns en masse, you could make them at the rate of one an hour. She wanted $275. Are you kidding me? Everything was like that. There's a jeweler who wraps stone in gold wire, and I look at his stuff every visit. The "Australian opal in matrix" pendants that I salivate over every visit have gone from $135 to $760. Sorry. There are things you want and things you need. $760 is way past want and the pendant is nowhere near need.
I didn't buy anything - not even food - this time. I took a bottle of water with me ($.88 at the deli Vs. $2.00 at the fair) and an egg salad sandwich.
I seem to be having trouble with my back. I had pain on the top back of my left hip when I got to the fairgrounds, and within the first hour of walking around, it had moved to a belt of crampy pain around my waist. To lighten my purse (for carrying the water) I had removed the cosmetic bag, which happened to also contain my aspirin, so I had nothing for the pain.
After almost three hours of looking at stuff, my right leg was dragging, and if I wasn't careful, I kept staggering to the left. The right leg wasn't lifting from the hip, and the left knee felt weak. At least twice when I staggered too far left I almost fell. I looked drunk. I couldn't seem to walk straight.
I keep saying I'm healthy. I have no conditions that require monitoring, treatment, or medication. My blood pressure is good, cholesterol total was a bit high, but the ratio of HLD to LLD was also extremely high, which is good (and I suspect that since I've improved my diet and lost weight the total is now lower), and so on.
But I have pain. A lot. Always. Everywhere. It's my spine. Old injuries. And a mild fibromyalgia (I have almost all the pressure points). Sometimes my legs don't work so well. I can walk and walk for miles and miles, even when they're acting badly. It's just that sometimes I fall down or to the side, because the knee or thigh muscles just quit suddenly, or I have difficulty standing up after sitting for a while. It's like sometimes my legs just aren't listening! They don't pay attention.
I know that I have to sit and stand straight, keep my weight well balanced. If I slump, it causes problems in my spine. Shifts the weight badly (my bust is heavy, I guess). I'm probably having more difficulty now than I've had in a while because I've been feeling pretty sad and miserable lately, and I've been slumping. At home I've been frumping around all folded up, shoulders rolled forward, spine curved forward, like I have a bellyache, or like I'm expecting a beating. I don't do it in public. In public I'm straight.
Maybe I should spend more time in public.
Piper knows how I've been feeling. He left on a ten-day vacation today with his lady Di, but he called while I was out to see how I was, and he left his cell number "in case I need him". ( His thinly-disguised excuse for the call was to verify that I had received the check I needed to pay the estimated taxes. The tax payment was due on the 15th. He knows durn well that if I hadn't received the check before then, I'd have been pounding on his door! ) It was very thoughtful of him. I appreciate his concern.
There used to be one fair per year in Rhinebeck, and one in New Paltz, Memorial Day and Labor Day. Now there are several during the year, and I don't understand why, because you overhear the vendors telling each other they haven't sold much of anything, and complaining about all the lookers and no buyers. I hear it a dozen times every visit.
Partly it's because things are so ridiculously expensive. There was a woman who had short jackets made of the same iridescent Thai silk I've been buying (direct from Thailand) for $7 or less a 45"-wide yard. The jackets use no more than a yard and a half each (including the lining in a lighter silk), and are a simple design. Once you got going, and cut the patterns en masse, you could make them at the rate of one an hour. She wanted $275. Are you kidding me? Everything was like that. There's a jeweler who wraps stone in gold wire, and I look at his stuff every visit. The "Australian opal in matrix" pendants that I salivate over every visit have gone from $135 to $760. Sorry. There are things you want and things you need. $760 is way past want and the pendant is nowhere near need.
I didn't buy anything - not even food - this time. I took a bottle of water with me ($.88 at the deli Vs. $2.00 at the fair) and an egg salad sandwich.
I seem to be having trouble with my back. I had pain on the top back of my left hip when I got to the fairgrounds, and within the first hour of walking around, it had moved to a belt of crampy pain around my waist. To lighten my purse (for carrying the water) I had removed the cosmetic bag, which happened to also contain my aspirin, so I had nothing for the pain.
After almost three hours of looking at stuff, my right leg was dragging, and if I wasn't careful, I kept staggering to the left. The right leg wasn't lifting from the hip, and the left knee felt weak. At least twice when I staggered too far left I almost fell. I looked drunk. I couldn't seem to walk straight.
I keep saying I'm healthy. I have no conditions that require monitoring, treatment, or medication. My blood pressure is good, cholesterol total was a bit high, but the ratio of HLD to LLD was also extremely high, which is good (and I suspect that since I've improved my diet and lost weight the total is now lower), and so on.
But I have pain. A lot. Always. Everywhere. It's my spine. Old injuries. And a mild fibromyalgia (I have almost all the pressure points). Sometimes my legs don't work so well. I can walk and walk for miles and miles, even when they're acting badly. It's just that sometimes I fall down or to the side, because the knee or thigh muscles just quit suddenly, or I have difficulty standing up after sitting for a while. It's like sometimes my legs just aren't listening! They don't pay attention.
I know that I have to sit and stand straight, keep my weight well balanced. If I slump, it causes problems in my spine. Shifts the weight badly (my bust is heavy, I guess). I'm probably having more difficulty now than I've had in a while because I've been feeling pretty sad and miserable lately, and I've been slumping. At home I've been frumping around all folded up, shoulders rolled forward, spine curved forward, like I have a bellyache, or like I'm expecting a beating. I don't do it in public. In public I'm straight.
Maybe I should spend more time in public.
Piper knows how I've been feeling. He left on a ten-day vacation today with his lady Di, but he called while I was out to see how I was, and he left his cell number "in case I need him". ( His thinly-disguised excuse for the call was to verify that I had received the check I needed to pay the estimated taxes. The tax payment was due on the 15th. He knows durn well that if I hadn't received the check before then, I'd have been pounding on his door! ) It was very thoughtful of him. I appreciate his concern.
Friday, June 23, 2006
755 Site Statistics, Domain, Van, Rental Car
I've been having fun reading the information collected by SiteMeter for this journal. I've had a lot of visits from strange and far-away places, as a result of Google (and other search engine) hits.
The search arg that got a lot of hits the other day was "InfoStealer". Seems like for about two days, about the same time I discovered it on my system, a lot of people were looking for information on it, and dropping in on my post (#747, below). Significantly, those searches seem to have dropped off.
Now, today, I'm getting hits on "800-503-7001". Six already today. That post (#750, below) has been out there two days, and today people are looking for information on that phone number. How strange. I wish more of them would leave comments - "what kind of call did YOU get?" One guy says he gets calls from that number in response to business ads he places in magazines. But he didn't say what kind of calls. I guess they must be odd, if he's Googling the number....
Gee. Too bad my posts don't contain information of much use to anyone. It feels like back when I was working, when people would stick their heads in my door and ask a question. I always tried to find an answer. Now I feel like all these people are asking, and I'm letting them down.
In reference to that strange phone call, on the off chance that someone wants the "(Hidden)" name, Roman strongly recommended that I register the domain. So I went to NetworkSolutions.com this morning, and took care of it. There's now a dummy www.(Hidden).com "Under Construction" site out there, set up by NetworkSolutions, and full of drum-related advertising. Bleck! But I'm not ready to find a host yet, so I guess I'll have to put up with that. At least the name's mine now for the next three years.
Roman called as I was heading out the door to take the van in for service. We had a very nice conversation. He said he seemed to remember a recall for my van, similar to my "it just quit!" problem. Told me where to look it up online.
Mr. T., the first-choice mechanic, figured it was the same bad sensor (the notorious O2 sensor) as before, so he tested it immediately. He came out to the waiting area and said, "It's the mumble mumble sensor [I didn't catch the mumble, because I was too hung up on what he said next, but it wasn't O2]. The sensor appears to be ok, but it doesn't know where your engine is. [Huh?] Could be engine, could be wiring, could be computer. Leave it here. We'll look at it Monday. Go next door and rent a car."
Gak!
Rent-a-Wreck is next door to Mr. T., but they didn't have anything available. So I called Enterprise, across the river. Things got interesting.
I asked for a compact or sub compact. They didn't have any available, but offered me a 4-door pickup truck, at $84.99 a day. Gak! I might be driving this thing a week or more!
"Um, do you have any mid-size cars available?"
"Yes."
"How much for a mid-size?"
"$69.99"
"That's $15 less a day. I'll take the mid-size. Um, why didn't you offer me the mid-size first? Why the pickup?"
"Because the mid-size won't be available until 5 pm. The pickup's available now."
(It was then 3:15 pm. Since their man has to come and get me and take me there, I couldn't get there in less than 45 minutes anyway.)
"I'll wait."
Sheesh. For $15 a day, I can wait an hour and a half.
So I went to the diner next to Mr. T.'s and ate (yummy Greek spinach pie) and the Enterprise guy picked me up at 4:30. When we got to the Enterprise office, a sub-compact had just come in, and I got it for significantly less, minus a discount as a 'The Company' retiree. Whoop whoop!
Good things come to those who wait.
The search arg that got a lot of hits the other day was "InfoStealer". Seems like for about two days, about the same time I discovered it on my system, a lot of people were looking for information on it, and dropping in on my post (#747, below). Significantly, those searches seem to have dropped off.
Now, today, I'm getting hits on "800-503-7001". Six already today. That post (#750, below) has been out there two days, and today people are looking for information on that phone number. How strange. I wish more of them would leave comments - "what kind of call did YOU get?" One guy says he gets calls from that number in response to business ads he places in magazines. But he didn't say what kind of calls. I guess they must be odd, if he's Googling the number....
Gee. Too bad my posts don't contain information of much use to anyone. It feels like back when I was working, when people would stick their heads in my door and ask a question. I always tried to find an answer. Now I feel like all these people are asking, and I'm letting them down.
In reference to that strange phone call, on the off chance that someone wants the "(Hidden)" name, Roman strongly recommended that I register the domain. So I went to NetworkSolutions.com this morning, and took care of it. There's now a dummy www.(Hidden).com "Under Construction" site out there, set up by NetworkSolutions, and full of drum-related advertising. Bleck! But I'm not ready to find a host yet, so I guess I'll have to put up with that. At least the name's mine now for the next three years.
Roman called as I was heading out the door to take the van in for service. We had a very nice conversation. He said he seemed to remember a recall for my van, similar to my "it just quit!" problem. Told me where to look it up online.
Mr. T., the first-choice mechanic, figured it was the same bad sensor (the notorious O2 sensor) as before, so he tested it immediately. He came out to the waiting area and said, "It's the mumble mumble sensor [I didn't catch the mumble, because I was too hung up on what he said next, but it wasn't O2]. The sensor appears to be ok, but it doesn't know where your engine is. [Huh?] Could be engine, could be wiring, could be computer. Leave it here. We'll look at it Monday. Go next door and rent a car."
Gak!
Rent-a-Wreck is next door to Mr. T., but they didn't have anything available. So I called Enterprise, across the river. Things got interesting.
I asked for a compact or sub compact. They didn't have any available, but offered me a 4-door pickup truck, at $84.99 a day. Gak! I might be driving this thing a week or more!
"Um, do you have any mid-size cars available?"
"Yes."
"How much for a mid-size?"
"$69.99"
"That's $15 less a day. I'll take the mid-size. Um, why didn't you offer me the mid-size first? Why the pickup?"
"Because the mid-size won't be available until 5 pm. The pickup's available now."
(It was then 3:15 pm. Since their man has to come and get me and take me there, I couldn't get there in less than 45 minutes anyway.)
"I'll wait."
Sheesh. For $15 a day, I can wait an hour and a half.
So I went to the diner next to Mr. T.'s and ate (yummy Greek spinach pie) and the Enterprise guy picked me up at 4:30. When we got to the Enterprise office, a sub-compact had just come in, and I got it for significantly less, minus a discount as a 'The Company' retiree. Whoop whoop!
Good things come to those who wait.
754 Bits - Phone call, Passivity, etc
Contributions, as to where the strange phone call may have come from. It could be a pre-paid calling card. It could be an international call. It could be through the internet. It could have been made by dialing *67 first, to block Caller-id. No way to tell. I am at an impasse.
Roman says it could not be "her", because he's sure she has never heard of [Deleted], and besides, even if she had, "she'd never consider doing something like that." (An implied criticism that I would. I certainly would NOT have called, but you bet your booty I'd have looked it up on the internet!)
He attributes it to niceness. I attributed it to passivity.
I've been reading up on PPS, and it may explain the passivity. The polio virus damages the dopamine-producing cells in the brain, and a shortage of dopamine contributes to pain due to mental fatigue, memory problems, and cognitive problems. Polio also damages the brain stem, or the recticular activity system (RAS), which is "responsible for keeping the brain awake." So. She's got a lot on her plate, and some things just aren't worth the effort. Trusting him made it easy to not pay attention. You don't expend energy where it's not necessary.
I'll kick him next time I see him for taking advantage of that.
I also read a bit on the psychology of the syndrome. Survivors have worked hard all their lives to overcome physical challenges, and they find it difficult to admit that they now have to "admit deficiencies", and change their lifestyles to accomodate the fatigue. They have to eat a lot of protein, and to keep the muscles from atrophying, they have to do exercises that deplete the limited store of energy they have every day, but if they don't do the exercises, the energy supply will grow progressively smaller.
If he lived with her, he'd probably nag her to do what she has to do. She probably doesn't want that just yet.
Roman says it could not be "her", because he's sure she has never heard of [Deleted], and besides, even if she had, "she'd never consider doing something like that." (An implied criticism that I would. I certainly would NOT have called, but you bet your booty I'd have looked it up on the internet!)
He attributes it to niceness. I attributed it to passivity.
I've been reading up on PPS, and it may explain the passivity. The polio virus damages the dopamine-producing cells in the brain, and a shortage of dopamine contributes to pain due to mental fatigue, memory problems, and cognitive problems. Polio also damages the brain stem, or the recticular activity system (RAS), which is "responsible for keeping the brain awake." So. She's got a lot on her plate, and some things just aren't worth the effort. Trusting him made it easy to not pay attention. You don't expend energy where it's not necessary.
I'll kick him next time I see him for taking advantage of that.
I also read a bit on the psychology of the syndrome. Survivors have worked hard all their lives to overcome physical challenges, and they find it difficult to admit that they now have to "admit deficiencies", and change their lifestyles to accomodate the fatigue. They have to eat a lot of protein, and to keep the muscles from atrophying, they have to do exercises that deplete the limited store of energy they have every day, but if they don't do the exercises, the energy supply will grow progressively smaller.
If he lived with her, he'd probably nag her to do what she has to do. She probably doesn't want that just yet.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
753 The Van - Check Engine Again
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Y'all might remember when I had trouble with the check engine light. Second-choice garage decided it was the sensor, nothing wrong with the engine, and they replaced the sensor. Two months later the light went on again. First-choice garage decided it was the sensor, nothing wrong with the engine. Much fuss and furor over who was going to replace it, and for how much. Second-choice garage finally caved and replaced it for free. That was maybe two or three months ago.
Last night, on my way home from the talk with Roman, I stopped at the grocery store and ran into first-choice mechanic. He asked how the van was doing, and I said that the sensor got replaced free, and it's fine now.
Ten minutes later!!!!, as I made the turn into my street, the van quit. It just turned off. No steering power, no brakes, no dashboard lights, no air conditioning, nothing. The only sign of life was the headlights, and the "oil pressure" light. Little red oil can sitting there on the bad-news-panel.
I sat there for a minute, grateful that there had been no one behind me, and I was safely off the highway, and then I tried restarting it. It started ok, but the oil can stayed lit. I limped home, and decided to check the oil today, when it was light.
Naturally, I forgot. This evening I made a salad run to the deli around the corner. The oil can was not lit, so I had no reminder. Just before I turned into the deli, the van hesitated, sorta like that slight hesitation when an automatic transmission is shifting, y'know? It hesitated twice in rapid succession, and then ... and then ...
... the check engine light went on.
I may cry.
Y'all might remember when I had trouble with the check engine light. Second-choice garage decided it was the sensor, nothing wrong with the engine, and they replaced the sensor. Two months later the light went on again. First-choice garage decided it was the sensor, nothing wrong with the engine. Much fuss and furor over who was going to replace it, and for how much. Second-choice garage finally caved and replaced it for free. That was maybe two or three months ago.
Last night, on my way home from the talk with Roman, I stopped at the grocery store and ran into first-choice mechanic. He asked how the van was doing, and I said that the sensor got replaced free, and it's fine now.
Ten minutes later!!!!, as I made the turn into my street, the van quit. It just turned off. No steering power, no brakes, no dashboard lights, no air conditioning, nothing. The only sign of life was the headlights, and the "oil pressure" light. Little red oil can sitting there on the bad-news-panel.
I sat there for a minute, grateful that there had been no one behind me, and I was safely off the highway, and then I tried restarting it. It started ok, but the oil can stayed lit. I limped home, and decided to check the oil today, when it was light.
Naturally, I forgot. This evening I made a salad run to the deli around the corner. The oil can was not lit, so I had no reminder. Just before I turned into the deli, the van hesitated, sorta like that slight hesitation when an automatic transmission is shifting, y'know? It hesitated twice in rapid succession, and then ... and then ...
... the check engine light went on.
I may cry.
752 The Talk
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Roman and I met in the parking lot last evening, ate in the diner (which was too noisy for talking) and then he drove us to one of the river mansions, where we sat on a bench on the grounds and talked for several hours.
He was more open than he has ever been, and I understand a lot more now about him, her, their relationship, us. Not everything, but enough.
Until now, I was convinced that she did not love him, that she was stringing him along and using him. Because I do love him, I found that maddening. Like even if I didn't end up with him, he had to get away from her. That he could never be happy with her. She was tearing him up and wasting his time. I couldn't understand why he was so fascinated with her, and why, if he had such strong feelings for her, why was he messing with me.
I keep saying that all I want is for him to be happy, and it's true, even if no one believes it.
Now, I know what the situation is. I know what the connection is, and a little about why she is holding him off. I know that even if he isn't, and may never be, completely happy with her, he would be more unhappy without her, even if she is the one who breaks it off.
So, ok, I'll change what I want. All I want is for him to be less unhappy. I'll do whatever I can to help.
He says all she knows about me is that I exist, that I used to work with him. Nothing else. The woman has no curiosity. She didn't even ask how long it had been going on, or whether he'd slept with me. She asks no questions. I had thought it was because she didn't care, but now I think it's just her personality. He didn't use the word, but I believe she is extremely passive.
He did tell her that it wasn't a Boston RG he went to last month, that he went to Pennsylvania with me. She asked if the March RG was real, and he said yes, that one was real. But she didn't ask, and he didn't tell her, that he went with me.
Passive.
He apparently likes passive. Where he and I have butted heads to the point of making him angry is that I am nowhere near passive. I want to understand everything, and I will do whatever I need to do to get the information I need. That frightens him in two ways - he's afraid of his own anger, and, not that he's trying to hide anything, but it bothers him that he can't predict me. I need him to be open, but he's simply not introspective enough to be comfortable with that. I want him to tell me what he feels, and half the time he doesn't know what he feels. Therefore, she, with her passive acceptance, is much more comfortable for him. Calming.
I see that. Her upbringing and mine were very different.
She had polio when she was three years old, and has been protected and coddled all her life. I escaped an extremely abusive family only to be used and abused by others.
She has faith that she will be safe. There's a wonderful calmness inside with that. I know the only way I can be safe is to be vigilant, to be aware of all threats and be armed against them.
She is used to being taken care of. I know that in the end, only I can take care of me.
And now she has a debilitating illness that is threatening her. Roman finally told me how she is affected. He does do a lot for her. She needs him. I don't.
He thinks that because of the personality conflicts, he and I would probably never last in a long-term intense relationship anyway. I think it could work if I didn't feel threatened, but as long as she's alive, I'd feel threatened. And whatever else, he'd always be on guard, afraid of my probing.
So, ok, I accept that. He isn't the first man I've loved that I ultimately realized I couldn't live with. It doesn't change the love, but it changes the expectations.
I think they will be alright. He has saddened and disappointed her, he says she's still angry, but I suspect she will forgive him. She let him stay over from Saturday night 'til Tuesday morning - so it can't be too bad. I doubt, from what I've heard of her personality, that she will "snipe" at him for long, if at all, so it will probably soon blow over.
We're going to try being friends. I don't know how that will work out.
Friends with occasional benefits.
I need once more, soon, just to erase the Glen as the last time. The Glen is too important to me, and I need to replace that memory with another.
He said maybe a lot more. (Damn his mixed messages!) I guess neither of us want to give it up entirely.
I said not again for a while. Maybe a long while.
I need to internalize my new knowledge, to be able to defend myself against mixed messages. Otherwise we'd just fall back into the old patterns.
He said yeah, can't have you hoping again.
Sigh.
Roman and I met in the parking lot last evening, ate in the diner (which was too noisy for talking) and then he drove us to one of the river mansions, where we sat on a bench on the grounds and talked for several hours.
He was more open than he has ever been, and I understand a lot more now about him, her, their relationship, us. Not everything, but enough.
Until now, I was convinced that she did not love him, that she was stringing him along and using him. Because I do love him, I found that maddening. Like even if I didn't end up with him, he had to get away from her. That he could never be happy with her. She was tearing him up and wasting his time. I couldn't understand why he was so fascinated with her, and why, if he had such strong feelings for her, why was he messing with me.
I keep saying that all I want is for him to be happy, and it's true, even if no one believes it.
Now, I know what the situation is. I know what the connection is, and a little about why she is holding him off. I know that even if he isn't, and may never be, completely happy with her, he would be more unhappy without her, even if she is the one who breaks it off.
So, ok, I'll change what I want. All I want is for him to be less unhappy. I'll do whatever I can to help.
He says all she knows about me is that I exist, that I used to work with him. Nothing else. The woman has no curiosity. She didn't even ask how long it had been going on, or whether he'd slept with me. She asks no questions. I had thought it was because she didn't care, but now I think it's just her personality. He didn't use the word, but I believe she is extremely passive.
He did tell her that it wasn't a Boston RG he went to last month, that he went to Pennsylvania with me. She asked if the March RG was real, and he said yes, that one was real. But she didn't ask, and he didn't tell her, that he went with me.
Passive.
He apparently likes passive. Where he and I have butted heads to the point of making him angry is that I am nowhere near passive. I want to understand everything, and I will do whatever I need to do to get the information I need. That frightens him in two ways - he's afraid of his own anger, and, not that he's trying to hide anything, but it bothers him that he can't predict me. I need him to be open, but he's simply not introspective enough to be comfortable with that. I want him to tell me what he feels, and half the time he doesn't know what he feels. Therefore, she, with her passive acceptance, is much more comfortable for him. Calming.
I see that. Her upbringing and mine were very different.
She had polio when she was three years old, and has been protected and coddled all her life. I escaped an extremely abusive family only to be used and abused by others.
She has faith that she will be safe. There's a wonderful calmness inside with that. I know the only way I can be safe is to be vigilant, to be aware of all threats and be armed against them.
She is used to being taken care of. I know that in the end, only I can take care of me.
And now she has a debilitating illness that is threatening her. Roman finally told me how she is affected. He does do a lot for her. She needs him. I don't.
He thinks that because of the personality conflicts, he and I would probably never last in a long-term intense relationship anyway. I think it could work if I didn't feel threatened, but as long as she's alive, I'd feel threatened. And whatever else, he'd always be on guard, afraid of my probing.
So, ok, I accept that. He isn't the first man I've loved that I ultimately realized I couldn't live with. It doesn't change the love, but it changes the expectations.
I think they will be alright. He has saddened and disappointed her, he says she's still angry, but I suspect she will forgive him. She let him stay over from Saturday night 'til Tuesday morning - so it can't be too bad. I doubt, from what I've heard of her personality, that she will "snipe" at him for long, if at all, so it will probably soon blow over.
We're going to try being friends. I don't know how that will work out.
Friends with occasional benefits.
I need once more, soon, just to erase the Glen as the last time. The Glen is too important to me, and I need to replace that memory with another.
He said maybe a lot more. (Damn his mixed messages!) I guess neither of us want to give it up entirely.
I said not again for a while. Maybe a long while.
I need to internalize my new knowledge, to be able to defend myself against mixed messages. Otherwise we'd just fall back into the old patterns.
He said yeah, can't have you hoping again.
Sigh.
751 A Thought on Dates....
In the US, the standard date format is (m)m/(d)d/(yy)yy, as in November 2, 2003 = 11/2/03 or 11/02/2003.
In other parts of the world, it might be (d)d/(m)m/(yy)yy, as in 02/11/03.
Neither has ever made much sense to me.
In many applications, it is customary to put the global set first, then the first subset, then the subset of that subset, and so on. Makes for easier sorting.
Note that the format for time is that way - hh:mm:ss
And ordinary numbers - Thousands hundreds tens ones
In my opinion, now that much of the world is computerized, everyone ought to be using yyyy/mm/dd, or even do away with the superfluous slashes altogether and just write yyyymmdd.
When I label set of files that I might eventually want to sort by date, like photographs or a series of text files, I use yymmdd in the file name. They sort nicely.
In other parts of the world, it might be (d)d/(m)m/(yy)yy, as in 02/11/03.
Neither has ever made much sense to me.
In many applications, it is customary to put the global set first, then the first subset, then the subset of that subset, and so on. Makes for easier sorting.
Note that the format for time is that way - hh:mm:ss
And ordinary numbers - Thousands hundreds tens ones
In my opinion, now that much of the world is computerized, everyone ought to be using yyyy/mm/dd, or even do away with the superfluous slashes altogether and just write yyyymmdd.
When I label set of files that I might eventually want to sort by date, like photographs or a series of text files, I use yymmdd in the file name. They sort nicely.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
750 Mysteriouser and Mysteriouser
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Brilliant flash this morning. I don't have Caller-id, but I do have *69! And that "Silk En Drum" call was the last incoming on the house phone. So I tried *69. The call came from 1-800-503-7001, at 2:53 pm on June 20.
The phone company message said that I could reach that number by dialing "1", so I did, and got the message that "this number cannot be reached by this method".
So I dialed it myself.
I got a fast-busy signal. I shrugged and pressed the "Busy Redial" button on my phone. Normally, what happens is that the phone will redial the number on speakerphone every few minutes, listen for a few seconds, and if it's still busy (5 beeps worth), will hang up and try again. This time, on the first try, it dialed, got the same beeps I had gotten, but it didn't drop. Instead, the phone added its own higher beep, and hung on until an operator message about "all circuits are busy" came on. It never dropped the connection to retry. I had to break the connection myself. This is strange. It's not what Busy Redial usually does.
Since sometimes you can't call an 800 number if it's local, and my cell phone thinks it lives in a different area code, so while the house phone was doing its thing, I tried the number on the cell phone. The result was even stranger. The cell attempted the connection for exactly 3 seconds of silence, then dropped the attempt. Several times. No indication of anything.
Next, I went to Reversephonedirectory.com. I typed in only the 800 part, and Reversephonedirectory suggested the 503-7001 itself! Huh? So I said ok, search, and I got a blank search results screen. Not even a "can't find it". Several other searches, like in the internet toll-free directory, and others suggested by Dogpile.com got no hits.
Ok. Anybody out there recognise the number?
Anybody better at research than I?
Has my link list kicked off a secret gommunt investigation?
Should I get a big dog?
Brilliant flash this morning. I don't have Caller-id, but I do have *69! And that "Silk En Drum" call was the last incoming on the house phone. So I tried *69. The call came from 1-800-503-7001, at 2:53 pm on June 20.
The phone company message said that I could reach that number by dialing "1", so I did, and got the message that "this number cannot be reached by this method".
So I dialed it myself.
I got a fast-busy signal. I shrugged and pressed the "Busy Redial" button on my phone. Normally, what happens is that the phone will redial the number on speakerphone every few minutes, listen for a few seconds, and if it's still busy (5 beeps worth), will hang up and try again. This time, on the first try, it dialed, got the same beeps I had gotten, but it didn't drop. Instead, the phone added its own higher beep, and hung on until an operator message about "all circuits are busy" came on. It never dropped the connection to retry. I had to break the connection myself. This is strange. It's not what Busy Redial usually does.
Since sometimes you can't call an 800 number if it's local, and my cell phone thinks it lives in a different area code, so while the house phone was doing its thing, I tried the number on the cell phone. The result was even stranger. The cell attempted the connection for exactly 3 seconds of silence, then dropped the attempt. Several times. No indication of anything.
Next, I went to Reversephonedirectory.com. I typed in only the 800 part, and Reversephonedirectory suggested the 503-7001 itself! Huh? So I said ok, search, and I got a blank search results screen. Not even a "can't find it". Several other searches, like in the internet toll-free directory, and others suggested by Dogpile.com got no hits.
Ok. Anybody out there recognise the number?
Anybody better at research than I?
Has my link list kicked off a secret gommunt investigation?
Should I get a big dog?
749 The "Edited" Call
Late Tuesday evening, June 20, 2006
(10/24/2015 - I have edited out the operative word here because I may have a nasty stalker who knows me only by that id. I would prefer he does not find this blog by Googling my id.)
There are only a very few local people who know this journal exists, perhaps five. Of those, I'm certain that two have long forgotten about it, even before it moved from AOL to Blogger. Of the remaining three, one never reads it, one occasionally reads, and one reads often, and those three are trusted friends. So I can safely say that of all the local people who know me personally, almost no one knows about this blog.
"EditedOut" is slightly better known. It has a legal existence, it's my id on several obscure specialized services, including the local Mensa group, on a few online auction services, and other online milieus. My alter ego, so to speak. If you Google "EditedOut", you'll find this journal. But there's no particular reason for anyone to want to search for "EditedOut" in the first place. (10/24/2015 - unless I piss them off.) And you will not find my phone number connected with it anywhere, with the sole possible exception of eBay, and then only if you've sold me something sometime in the past. I haven't been active on eBay in over a year.
So, how did "EditedOut" (pronounced by the caller in three careful pieces, like Ed-dedi-tout) get connected to my phone number this afternoon?
The local friend who does read this journal says she's on the edge of her seat, and finds the phone call I mentioned ominous. Yeah. It's bothering me, too. Phone calls seem to figure heavily in the development of issues lately.
Ok, what are the possibilities?
I mentioned a legal factor. The records are public, and it's possible someone has an interest in acquiring the name to use for a business, and it's possible that my phone number is on the records (but I don't think so). But there are two problems with that. First, the woman pronounced it as if she had heard it, but had not seen it written. Second, I doubt that anyone who wanted to acquire the name would have taken so long to speak, then have asked if I was Ed-dedi-tout and then hung up as soon as I said yes.
Another possibility: an eBay seller I had done business with is checking her records for old customers. Again, there's the pronunciation problem, an email would be more productive, and - there's no reason for her to hang up abruptly.
Perhaps it's a friend who already has my number, found this journal by accident, put two and two together, and decided to ask. Again, why hang up? And why the artificially high voice and the fake-sounding accent? Shouldn't there be some gloating?
It could be some reader of this journal, a relative stranger with extraordinary research talents, who set out to find me. That's a possibility. It's happened before to other people. But I doubt it. I don't think I've interested or offended anyone enough to earn that much effort. But if it WAS one of you, 'fess up in a comment. And if any of you would like to take up the challenge, send me my phone number in a comment. I review all comments before they're posted, so I'll just not post that one. But I'll mention it!
Daughter and (if I know her taste at all) her friends are too mature for that kind of "fun".
The last possibility is the worrisome one. That "she" found my phone number in Roman's land line phone bill or on his cell phone, and that he had somehow sometime mentioned EditedOut, and she put two and two together, and called to confirm that they went together. I asked him, and he says he has never mentioned EditedOut. But there are several things he has said to me that he later doesn't remember saying, or actively denies saying. The fact that she could, from the phone number, find my real name and address doesn't bother me.
This is ridiculous. Unbelievable even. Unbelievable if it weren't for the fact that I had contemplated a similar call to her. One small question and hang up.
For the next few weeks, I'm taping calls.
Now if it was her, and if she has any brains or curiosity at all, she could easily find this journal.
There's nothing here that isn't truth (as far as I know it). I can hold my head up. What worries me is that:
I don't care. Let the cards fall.... Whatever happens is meant to happen.
See me continuing to write here? I dare fate!
(10/24/2015 - I have edited out the operative word here because I may have a nasty stalker who knows me only by that id. I would prefer he does not find this blog by Googling my id.)
There are only a very few local people who know this journal exists, perhaps five. Of those, I'm certain that two have long forgotten about it, even before it moved from AOL to Blogger. Of the remaining three, one never reads it, one occasionally reads, and one reads often, and those three are trusted friends. So I can safely say that of all the local people who know me personally, almost no one knows about this blog.
"EditedOut" is slightly better known. It has a legal existence, it's my id on several obscure specialized services, including the local Mensa group, on a few online auction services, and other online milieus. My alter ego, so to speak. If you Google "EditedOut", you'll find this journal. But there's no particular reason for anyone to want to search for "EditedOut" in the first place. (10/24/2015 - unless I piss them off.) And you will not find my phone number connected with it anywhere, with the sole possible exception of eBay, and then only if you've sold me something sometime in the past. I haven't been active on eBay in over a year.
So, how did "EditedOut" (pronounced by the caller in three careful pieces, like Ed-dedi-tout) get connected to my phone number this afternoon?
The local friend who does read this journal says she's on the edge of her seat, and finds the phone call I mentioned ominous. Yeah. It's bothering me, too. Phone calls seem to figure heavily in the development of issues lately.
Ok, what are the possibilities?
I mentioned a legal factor. The records are public, and it's possible someone has an interest in acquiring the name to use for a business, and it's possible that my phone number is on the records (but I don't think so). But there are two problems with that. First, the woman pronounced it as if she had heard it, but had not seen it written. Second, I doubt that anyone who wanted to acquire the name would have taken so long to speak, then have asked if I was Ed-dedi-tout and then hung up as soon as I said yes.
Another possibility: an eBay seller I had done business with is checking her records for old customers. Again, there's the pronunciation problem, an email would be more productive, and - there's no reason for her to hang up abruptly.
Perhaps it's a friend who already has my number, found this journal by accident, put two and two together, and decided to ask. Again, why hang up? And why the artificially high voice and the fake-sounding accent? Shouldn't there be some gloating?
It could be some reader of this journal, a relative stranger with extraordinary research talents, who set out to find me. That's a possibility. It's happened before to other people. But I doubt it. I don't think I've interested or offended anyone enough to earn that much effort. But if it WAS one of you, 'fess up in a comment. And if any of you would like to take up the challenge, send me my phone number in a comment. I review all comments before they're posted, so I'll just not post that one. But I'll mention it!
Daughter and (if I know her taste at all) her friends are too mature for that kind of "fun".
The last possibility is the worrisome one. That "she" found my phone number in Roman's land line phone bill or on his cell phone, and that he had somehow sometime mentioned EditedOut, and she put two and two together, and called to confirm that they went together. I asked him, and he says he has never mentioned EditedOut. But there are several things he has said to me that he later doesn't remember saying, or actively denies saying. The fact that she could, from the phone number, find my real name and address doesn't bother me.
This is ridiculous. Unbelievable even. Unbelievable if it weren't for the fact that I had contemplated a similar call to her. One small question and hang up.
For the next few weeks, I'm taping calls.
Now if it was her, and if she has any brains or curiosity at all, she could easily find this journal.
There's nothing here that isn't truth (as far as I know it). I can hold my head up. What worries me is that:
- maybe she will find it, and it will blow Roman out of the water completely if he hasn't come completely clean with her, and he'll never forgive me.
- maybe she will find it, but never let on to him, and hold onto him, but harden her heart against him. For years and years and years.
- maybe she won't find it. Yet. Swords hanging by threads. Please, get it over with already!
I don't care. Let the cards fall.... Whatever happens is meant to happen.
See me continuing to write here? I dare fate!
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