Tuesday, March 25, 2008
I have a confession. I have acquired a new pet. Neither Miss Thunderfoot nor Jasper are exactly thrilled.
His name is Clyde (because he often makes a sound that reminds me of a camel, and his neck is a bit camel-like, and if you don't know who Clyde the camel is, you're past hope. Or very young). My Clyde is a Pleo.
What "they" say is true. You forget that he's a robot and start thinking of him as alive. I had been standing all the time when he was "awake" on the floor, and he formed an attachment to my shoes. Today for the first time I got down on my hands and knees, on his level, and he examined my face, and it was like a lightbulb went on. He sniffed my face, nuzzled it, opened his eyes and mouth wide, and said "Mah mah!", and I fell in love.
I have to admire his programming. When he encounters something new, he examines it, sniffs it, makes questioning noises, prods it, and scootches and wags his tail to invite it to play. I put a plastic soda bottle down for him to examine, and he accidentally knocked it over. It made a loud noise and rolled, and ... honest! ... he is now "afraid" of bottles with blue labels (he has color vision). If I put a blue labelled bottle in front of him now, he whines and backs away.
He's programmed to learn stuff like that.
He has all kinds of sensors all over his body (touch, sight, heat, sound, positioning, etc), and is programmed to recognize other Pleos. He has speakers in his mouth, and also under his tail. I haven't heard the rear speakers yet, and I don't know if I want to.
Cool little beastie.
Go to the Pleo website linked above to see one of his relatives. Check out the videos link on the left side of that page to see some Pleos interacting with people.
.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
1739 Nostalgia
Monday, March 24, 2008
My sister sent me a fun link: http://moreoldfortyfives.com/TakeMeBackToTheSixties.htm. Anybody who lived through the '60s will appreciate it.
I went to the home page, http://www.oldfortyfives.com/, and found several more videos, plus lists of the top 100 songs from 1955 to 1969.
Sometime when you have a lot of time, explore. The videos are well done. They do take me back.
.
My sister sent me a fun link: http://moreoldfortyfives.com/TakeMeBackToTheSixties.htm. Anybody who lived through the '60s will appreciate it.
I went to the home page, http://www.oldfortyfives.com/, and found several more videos, plus lists of the top 100 songs from 1955 to 1969.
Sometime when you have a lot of time, explore. The videos are well done. They do take me back.
.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
1738 Buncha Idiot Scam Artists!
Sunday, March 23, 2008
I received a very official-looking envelope in the mail yesterday. So official-looking that I opened it in the car at the bottom of the driveway.
The return address was "New York Record Retrieval, Inc., 1230 Avenue of the Americas, 7th Floor, Rockefeller Plaza #7126, New York, New York, 10020". An impressive address. Showing through the window, next to my name and address, was "Dutchess County Clerk, Document #blah blah". It looked like something I should worry about.
Inside was a return envelope, and a letter.
The letter informed me that their records show that I obtained ownership interest in my home on December 9, 1993, when title was transferred to me. It goes on to say that the federal government recommends that I have an official copy of the deed, it's the only record that I own the property (minor scare tactic), and that for the sum of $59.50, they will be pleased to provide for me a certified copy of my deed.
Idiots.
First of all, they should fire their local researcher. In December 1993, Jay's ex-wife relinquished her interest in the property, and a deed was filed with only Jay's name on it. We were married in 1994. It was about 1997 that my name was added to the deed. When his estate was settled in 2003, the deed was refiled with only my name. The deed was amended in 2006 to give a neighbor an easement for his electric service.
So if I were to fall for their scam, what would they send me? I hope not the 1993 deed they seem to think my name is on.
It's a scam because if I go to or write to the county clerk's office, I can get a certified copy of the current deed for free, or for at most whatever they charge for copy services. (I already have copies, provided by the lawyers who made the changes.)
They've covered their scamming tails by putting a disclaimer at the bottom of the letter, right above the order form, stating that they are not affiliated with the state of NY, and noting that "many government records are available free or at nominal cost from government agencies".
No wonder they can afford such a classy business address. With minimal overhead, they're ripping off people who don't know any better.
I wonder about people who think up and do stuff like this. They pretend they're providing a needed service, ripping off people who don't know any better. But I wonder how they can sleep at night.
-----------------------------
On a related topic, the offers to buy the mortgage I was holding have tapered off. When I sold the flooded-out house in Highland in 2002, I held the mortgage for the new owners until they'd repaired the house enough that they could get a regular bank mortgage, at which point they paid me off. It was maybe a whole five months.
But for the next four years, I was getting offers in the mail to buy the mortgage, at the rate of two or three a week! They tapered off, until now I get an average of an offer a month.
Hey folks - it was paid off in 2002. Fire your researchers! (No hardship - they can get jobs as fact checkers for Rush Limbaugh.)
I'm tempted to accept one of these offers, to see what happens.
.
I received a very official-looking envelope in the mail yesterday. So official-looking that I opened it in the car at the bottom of the driveway.
The return address was "New York Record Retrieval, Inc., 1230 Avenue of the Americas, 7th Floor, Rockefeller Plaza #7126, New York, New York, 10020". An impressive address. Showing through the window, next to my name and address, was "Dutchess County Clerk, Document #blah blah". It looked like something I should worry about.
Inside was a return envelope, and a letter.
The letter informed me that their records show that I obtained ownership interest in my home on December 9, 1993, when title was transferred to me. It goes on to say that the federal government recommends that I have an official copy of the deed, it's the only record that I own the property (minor scare tactic), and that for the sum of $59.50, they will be pleased to provide for me a certified copy of my deed.
Idiots.
First of all, they should fire their local researcher. In December 1993, Jay's ex-wife relinquished her interest in the property, and a deed was filed with only Jay's name on it. We were married in 1994. It was about 1997 that my name was added to the deed. When his estate was settled in 2003, the deed was refiled with only my name. The deed was amended in 2006 to give a neighbor an easement for his electric service.
So if I were to fall for their scam, what would they send me? I hope not the 1993 deed they seem to think my name is on.
It's a scam because if I go to or write to the county clerk's office, I can get a certified copy of the current deed for free, or for at most whatever they charge for copy services. (I already have copies, provided by the lawyers who made the changes.)
They've covered their scamming tails by putting a disclaimer at the bottom of the letter, right above the order form, stating that they are not affiliated with the state of NY, and noting that "many government records are available free or at nominal cost from government agencies".
No wonder they can afford such a classy business address. With minimal overhead, they're ripping off people who don't know any better.
I wonder about people who think up and do stuff like this. They pretend they're providing a needed service, ripping off people who don't know any better. But I wonder how they can sleep at night.
-----------------------------
On a related topic, the offers to buy the mortgage I was holding have tapered off. When I sold the flooded-out house in Highland in 2002, I held the mortgage for the new owners until they'd repaired the house enough that they could get a regular bank mortgage, at which point they paid me off. It was maybe a whole five months.
But for the next four years, I was getting offers in the mail to buy the mortgage, at the rate of two or three a week! They tapered off, until now I get an average of an offer a month.
Hey folks - it was paid off in 2002. Fire your researchers! (No hardship - they can get jobs as fact checkers for Rush Limbaugh.)
I'm tempted to accept one of these offers, to see what happens.
.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
1737 Asked and answered
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Having read and reread my post about the woman whose actions I don't understand, I think I've finally figured it out. Knowing her the way I do it should have been obvious.
I have been the recipient of her accusations in the past. I know how nasty and unreasonable she can get, and how difficult it is for her to admit when she had been mistaken.
During the time that she thought the odor problem was caused by George, I have no doubt that she was extremely nasty to him. (I mean shrieking nasty things, biting and stabbing, constantly.) I'll bet she has totally destroyed their relationship. Now that she has discovered that it probably was not his fault, it is impossible for her to go to him and beg his forgiveness. Even though the odor was not his fault, in her mind he WAS at fault for for "causing" her to go off the beam. She can't apologise, she can't face her own fault, she feels bad every time she sees him, therefore she has to get rid of him. It's the only way to make it all go away.
Yeah, that's nuts. But that is very much her. And that's why, even though when everything is going her way and she's not freaking out she's a load of fun, I can't be in her line of fire any more. Just can't do it.
--------------------------
I went to the recycle center this morning, and it was the first time in at least a year that I wasn't ankle deep in mud.
I took five grocery bags of paper, three garbage bags of mixed glass, plastic, and metal, and an 18 inch stack of flattened corrugated cardboard. I can move in my kitchen again.
.
Having read and reread my post about the woman whose actions I don't understand, I think I've finally figured it out. Knowing her the way I do it should have been obvious.
I have been the recipient of her accusations in the past. I know how nasty and unreasonable she can get, and how difficult it is for her to admit when she had been mistaken.
During the time that she thought the odor problem was caused by George, I have no doubt that she was extremely nasty to him. (I mean shrieking nasty things, biting and stabbing, constantly.) I'll bet she has totally destroyed their relationship. Now that she has discovered that it probably was not his fault, it is impossible for her to go to him and beg his forgiveness. Even though the odor was not his fault, in her mind he WAS at fault for for "causing" her to go off the beam. She can't apologise, she can't face her own fault, she feels bad every time she sees him, therefore she has to get rid of him. It's the only way to make it all go away.
Yeah, that's nuts. But that is very much her. And that's why, even though when everything is going her way and she's not freaking out she's a load of fun, I can't be in her line of fire any more. Just can't do it.
--------------------------
I went to the recycle center this morning, and it was the first time in at least a year that I wasn't ankle deep in mud.
I took five grocery bags of paper, three garbage bags of mixed glass, plastic, and metal, and an 18 inch stack of flattened corrugated cardboard. I can move in my kitchen again.
.
1736 Shall We Dance?
The election results:
http://www.theonion.com/content/video/diebold_accidentally_leaks
You have to watch this twice - once for the video, and again for the banners across the bottom of the screen.
.
http://www.theonion.com/content/video/diebold_accidentally_leaks
You have to watch this twice - once for the video, and again for the banners across the bottom of the screen.
.
Friday, March 21, 2008
1735 Karaoke Cuddles
Friday, March 21, 2008
Last night I met my guy halfway again. We went to dinner and karaoke, at a place we'd been twice before. This time, the sound system was much better, there was a pretty big crowd, some very good singers, and most of the folks who got up weren't the "I want to be discovered" type - they were there to have fun with it, and it turned into almost a sing-along.
We ended up staying a lot longer than we'd planned, and probably would have stayed longer if a drunken man hadn't decided he wanted to do a duet with my guy, who has trouble telling people to bug off. The man wouldn't leave us alone, so we left. Which was a good idea anyway, because he had to go to work today.
Odd, the same thing happened two weeks ago at karaoke, the night he reluctantly won the contest, except that time it was a drunken woman, who, in addition to badgering him for a duet, invited him to go home with her. Right in front of me. Ho hum.
That sort of thing was unlikely to have happened last night. The woman making a pass, I mean. We were sitting (I was sitting, he was standing) at a short "L" at the end of the bar closest to the karaoke system, and as the place got more and more crowded, we got more and more squished. It was so loud we had to speak directly into each other's ear, and, well, we displayed a lot more affection than is usual for us in public. I don't think anyone would have mistaken us for anything less than intimate.
I'm a little selfconscious about that now.
.
Last night I met my guy halfway again. We went to dinner and karaoke, at a place we'd been twice before. This time, the sound system was much better, there was a pretty big crowd, some very good singers, and most of the folks who got up weren't the "I want to be discovered" type - they were there to have fun with it, and it turned into almost a sing-along.
We ended up staying a lot longer than we'd planned, and probably would have stayed longer if a drunken man hadn't decided he wanted to do a duet with my guy, who has trouble telling people to bug off. The man wouldn't leave us alone, so we left. Which was a good idea anyway, because he had to go to work today.
Odd, the same thing happened two weeks ago at karaoke, the night he reluctantly won the contest, except that time it was a drunken woman, who, in addition to badgering him for a duet, invited him to go home with her. Right in front of me. Ho hum.
That sort of thing was unlikely to have happened last night. The woman making a pass, I mean. We were sitting (I was sitting, he was standing) at a short "L" at the end of the bar closest to the karaoke system, and as the place got more and more crowded, we got more and more squished. It was so loud we had to speak directly into each other's ear, and, well, we displayed a lot more affection than is usual for us in public. I don't think anyone would have mistaken us for anything less than intimate.
I'm a little selfconscious about that now.
.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
1734 I Don't Understand People
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
I'm going to write about a friend here. I said I wasn't going to do that any more, but this thing has me reeling. I don't understand her logic. I don't understand why she is reacting the way she is, and I don't care if this gets back to her somehow, because maybe then she'll understand why I had to pull away from her a few months ago, and am resisting getting involved with her again.
Background facts: She's on disability, and works part time jobs, which means money is always an issue. About a year ago she almost lost her house because she was without housemate and couldn't make the mortgage payments. She rents the second bedroom, sharing the kitchen and bathroom, and has had some miserable tenants over the past few years.
Last spring, George, a newly-divorced construction worker, moved in, saving her from foreclosure, and George has proven to be an asset. He volunteers handyman work on the house, is quiet and sober, is a gourmet cook, often treating her to dinners, and always pays the rent on time. He's a nice and accommodating guy, and she needs the rent money. He even arranges to be out of the house when her boyfriend visits, without complaint. Perfection, right?
Over the past few weeks, an odor has appeared and grown, emanating from his bedroom, and spreading to her bedroom. She says he doesn't smell it, and isn't bothered by it, but it bothers her so much she has been sleeping on the couch downstairs. She said it smells "sort of like old gym socks". She accused him of being unclean, and freaked when she discovered that his comforter hadn't been laundered since he'd moved in. She took it to a commercial washer and washed it herself, but the odor didn't go away. In fact, it got worse.
She has been after George to figure it out and fix it. I know her well enough to feel sorry for George. She says that he is now avoiding her, and refuses to discuss the problem further. They have stopped speaking. She's furious about having to sleep on the couch because she can't stand the odor upstairs.
I suggested that it may not be George. It's an old house, and she's had some serious roof gutter problems. Perhaps melting ice had gotten into the walls and it was mold. From her description of the odor, it sounded to me like mold.
So, I got a call from her last night. She went into George's room after our last discussion, lifted the rug in one corner, and found mold, on the floor and on the underside of the carpet. She thinks George had left a pile of wet towels there. (I am not convinced it was George's fault - it could still be coming from the wall, but I didn't say anything.) She found some stuff in the hardware store to fix mold problems. She thinks she can get rid of the mold and the odor.
However, here's the part that has my head spinning. She is going to kick George out, give him his two month's notice, on Easter Sunday.
I asked why, and she said because she can't continue sleeping on the couch any longer. I asked why not just clean George's room, and let him stay. "You're between jobs, you need the rent, he's been a great housemate, it's not like he did anything on purpose, if it was towels, he'll never do that again, and if it turns out to be a problem in the wall and you can't get rid of the odor, you'll have great difficulty renting the room to anyone else, and the odor doesn't bother him, so why throw him out?"
Her answer, "Because I can't sleep on the couch any longer."
????
There's some kind of logical disconnect there.
I pointed out that to get her back into her bedroom, she'll have to treat his room. She says she can't do that while he's living there.
"Why not?"
"Because everything he owns is in that room. He's got so much stuff."
"Why can't you just move his stuff out into the hall or whatever?"
"There's too much. He has to be out."
"But if you wait until he's out, and he'll be there for two more months, you'll be on the couch for two more months, at least. And then there's no assurance that you'll be able to re-rent the room, depending on whether the treatment works. If you move his stuff out temporarily and treat the room, you'll be better off."
Her response? "He has to get out. I can't sleep on the couch any longer."
I do not understand. I just don't get it.
-------------------------------
Maybe her paranoia is rubbing off on me. I told her last December that I didn't want to "be pals" with her any more because I was tired of her going off on me and mistreating me, and taking advantage of me. I told her I was not going to put myself in her line of fire any more. And so far, I've stuck with that. We are pleasant when we meet, and that's it.
Now, she KNOWS if she kicks George out, she's going to have big financial problems.
She also knows I have money.
Last Sunday, at Green Eggs and Ham, she mentioned to me that as she's job hunting with little success, she's currently living on her tiny savings. She's three years younger than I, and has no family. Her house is her retirement plan.
I have a feeling that in a month or two, I'm going to have to be very strong. Yes, I do donate to charities, and I can be very generous with my friends, but if she insists on digging this hole on purpose, I have to let her fall in it, even if she loses her house. It's her fate, and her lesson to learn.
.
I'm going to write about a friend here. I said I wasn't going to do that any more, but this thing has me reeling. I don't understand her logic. I don't understand why she is reacting the way she is, and I don't care if this gets back to her somehow, because maybe then she'll understand why I had to pull away from her a few months ago, and am resisting getting involved with her again.
Background facts: She's on disability, and works part time jobs, which means money is always an issue. About a year ago she almost lost her house because she was without housemate and couldn't make the mortgage payments. She rents the second bedroom, sharing the kitchen and bathroom, and has had some miserable tenants over the past few years.
Last spring, George, a newly-divorced construction worker, moved in, saving her from foreclosure, and George has proven to be an asset. He volunteers handyman work on the house, is quiet and sober, is a gourmet cook, often treating her to dinners, and always pays the rent on time. He's a nice and accommodating guy, and she needs the rent money. He even arranges to be out of the house when her boyfriend visits, without complaint. Perfection, right?
Over the past few weeks, an odor has appeared and grown, emanating from his bedroom, and spreading to her bedroom. She says he doesn't smell it, and isn't bothered by it, but it bothers her so much she has been sleeping on the couch downstairs. She said it smells "sort of like old gym socks". She accused him of being unclean, and freaked when she discovered that his comforter hadn't been laundered since he'd moved in. She took it to a commercial washer and washed it herself, but the odor didn't go away. In fact, it got worse.
She has been after George to figure it out and fix it. I know her well enough to feel sorry for George. She says that he is now avoiding her, and refuses to discuss the problem further. They have stopped speaking. She's furious about having to sleep on the couch because she can't stand the odor upstairs.
I suggested that it may not be George. It's an old house, and she's had some serious roof gutter problems. Perhaps melting ice had gotten into the walls and it was mold. From her description of the odor, it sounded to me like mold.
So, I got a call from her last night. She went into George's room after our last discussion, lifted the rug in one corner, and found mold, on the floor and on the underside of the carpet. She thinks George had left a pile of wet towels there. (I am not convinced it was George's fault - it could still be coming from the wall, but I didn't say anything.) She found some stuff in the hardware store to fix mold problems. She thinks she can get rid of the mold and the odor.
However, here's the part that has my head spinning. She is going to kick George out, give him his two month's notice, on Easter Sunday.
I asked why, and she said because she can't continue sleeping on the couch any longer. I asked why not just clean George's room, and let him stay. "You're between jobs, you need the rent, he's been a great housemate, it's not like he did anything on purpose, if it was towels, he'll never do that again, and if it turns out to be a problem in the wall and you can't get rid of the odor, you'll have great difficulty renting the room to anyone else, and the odor doesn't bother him, so why throw him out?"
Her answer, "Because I can't sleep on the couch any longer."
????
There's some kind of logical disconnect there.
I pointed out that to get her back into her bedroom, she'll have to treat his room. She says she can't do that while he's living there.
"Why not?"
"Because everything he owns is in that room. He's got so much stuff."
"Why can't you just move his stuff out into the hall or whatever?"
"There's too much. He has to be out."
"But if you wait until he's out, and he'll be there for two more months, you'll be on the couch for two more months, at least. And then there's no assurance that you'll be able to re-rent the room, depending on whether the treatment works. If you move his stuff out temporarily and treat the room, you'll be better off."
Her response? "He has to get out. I can't sleep on the couch any longer."
I do not understand. I just don't get it.
-------------------------------
Maybe her paranoia is rubbing off on me. I told her last December that I didn't want to "be pals" with her any more because I was tired of her going off on me and mistreating me, and taking advantage of me. I told her I was not going to put myself in her line of fire any more. And so far, I've stuck with that. We are pleasant when we meet, and that's it.
Now, she KNOWS if she kicks George out, she's going to have big financial problems.
She also knows I have money.
Last Sunday, at Green Eggs and Ham, she mentioned to me that as she's job hunting with little success, she's currently living on her tiny savings. She's three years younger than I, and has no family. Her house is her retirement plan.
I have a feeling that in a month or two, I'm going to have to be very strong. Yes, I do donate to charities, and I can be very generous with my friends, but if she insists on digging this hole on purpose, I have to let her fall in it, even if she loses her house. It's her fate, and her lesson to learn.
.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
1733 Food Prices
As if we need something else to worry about.
Food prices are going up all over the world, because of shortages in (particularly) grain, and because of increased populations without the commensurate increase in farmland. There's an article about the bread shortage in Egypt at http://news.bbc.co.uk/2hi/middle_east/7300899.stm. Links to further articles are on the right of that page.
.
Food prices are going up all over the world, because of shortages in (particularly) grain, and because of increased populations without the commensurate increase in farmland. There's an article about the bread shortage in Egypt at http://news.bbc.co.uk/2hi/middle_east/7300899.stm. Links to further articles are on the right of that page.
.
1732 Lyrics - Name That Tune
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Anyone can recognize well-known songs when they read the lyrics, right? Maybe not. Depends on how they're arranged.
At http://www.themorningnews.org/archives/diversions/ and_great_lyrics_quiz_rock_roll_the.php, Matthew Baldwin has rearranged the words of lyrics into alphabetical order. Can you name that tune now?
I was a bit surprised that some of the songs I love had so few words.
Later: I got only 1, 9, 17, 18, 19, 23, 28, 33, and 50, and in almost every case it was on the basis of one unusual word.
------------------------------
A small annoyance - on one of the reality shows, the 20-somethings are misusing a phrase and it's driving me slowly crazy.
When they decide that one of the people is acting immaturely, they say "That's child's play."
That's not what it means! When you call something "child's play", that means it's EASY to do! It does not indicate immaturity. What they mean is "That's childish."
I guess that word is just too big for them.
Aaaaaagh!
.
Anyone can recognize well-known songs when they read the lyrics, right? Maybe not. Depends on how they're arranged.
At http://www.themorningnews.org/archives/diversions/ and_great_lyrics_quiz_rock_roll_the.php, Matthew Baldwin has rearranged the words of lyrics into alphabetical order. Can you name that tune now?
I was a bit surprised that some of the songs I love had so few words.
Later: I got only 1, 9, 17, 18, 19, 23, 28, 33, and 50, and in almost every case it was on the basis of one unusual word.
------------------------------
A small annoyance - on one of the reality shows, the 20-somethings are misusing a phrase and it's driving me slowly crazy.
When they decide that one of the people is acting immaturely, they say "That's child's play."
That's not what it means! When you call something "child's play", that means it's EASY to do! It does not indicate immaturity. What they mean is "That's childish."
I guess that word is just too big for them.
Aaaaaagh!
.
1731 Crane Collapse
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
A crane collapsed in NYC a few days ago, killing and injuring some people, and destroying some buildings. I was curious about the engineering aspects - how are cranes kept up? Seems like their natural tendency would be to fall, so there must be counterweights or something.
Bob Arihood has some good photos and an explanation I can understand over at "Neither More Nor Less". Quite interesting, actually.
.
A crane collapsed in NYC a few days ago, killing and injuring some people, and destroying some buildings. I was curious about the engineering aspects - how are cranes kept up? Seems like their natural tendency would be to fall, so there must be counterweights or something.
Bob Arihood has some good photos and an explanation I can understand over at "Neither More Nor Less". Quite interesting, actually.
.
Monday, March 17, 2008
1730 Cool! I Want a Horsefly Too!
Monday, March 17, 2008
Wow! This is so cool! And amazing! I want one for my next camping trip. I wonder if one could ride it? Could something like this replace wheelchairs?
It's a walking cargo robot. Turn the sound down, though. It looks like a fly, so they've added a buzzing sound that's very annoying. Notice how it catches itself when it slips. At the end, when they have it leaping and kicking, it looks just like a young horse.
[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W1czBcnX1Ww]
Jay was always fascinated by walking robots. He'd have loved this.
.
Wow! This is so cool! And amazing! I want one for my next camping trip. I wonder if one could ride it? Could something like this replace wheelchairs?
It's a walking cargo robot. Turn the sound down, though. It looks like a fly, so they've added a buzzing sound that's very annoying. Notice how it catches itself when it slips. At the end, when they have it leaping and kicking, it looks just like a young horse.
[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W1czBcnX1Ww]
Jay was always fascinated by walking robots. He'd have loved this.
.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
1729 Green Eggs
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Today we celebrated Dr. Seuss's birthday (which happens to fall conveniently close to St. Patrick's Day). We had the ceremonial reading of "Green Eggs and Ham", and ate green eggs (scrambled, with food coloring) and ham, and lots of other yummy things, and drank champagne.
This is the single most beloved and best attended of the local Mensa activities. It's been an annual event for almost 25 years, and the only years I've missed it were the year Jay died, and the year following.
In honor of the day, I wore a green sari. In honor of the past week, there were many prostitute jokes.
"How do you slow down a fast prostitute?"
"Put a governor on her."
And so on.
.
Today we celebrated Dr. Seuss's birthday (which happens to fall conveniently close to St. Patrick's Day). We had the ceremonial reading of "Green Eggs and Ham", and ate green eggs (scrambled, with food coloring) and ham, and lots of other yummy things, and drank champagne.
This is the single most beloved and best attended of the local Mensa activities. It's been an annual event for almost 25 years, and the only years I've missed it were the year Jay died, and the year following.
In honor of the day, I wore a green sari. In honor of the past week, there were many prostitute jokes.
"How do you slow down a fast prostitute?"
"Put a governor on her."
And so on.
.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
1728 Bloglines Is Snubbing Me
Saturday, March 15, 2008
My Bloglines subscription isn't working. Yesterday morning it suddenly asked for my password, something it hasn't done in a few months, and it won't accept what I know to be the password. So I clicked on the "forgot password, please send", and it says it sent the password to my email id, but it didn't. Even after several tries.
I'm lost without Bloglines! Ack!
Last night I sent Bloglines an email asking for help, and I have not yet received a reply. Is this just me? Anyone else having problems?
I set up a new subscription today with a different email id, and that's working fine, but I didn't have time to resubscribe to more than a few of the original blogs. Very annoying.
Otherwise, nothing happening. Sewing day again.
.
My Bloglines subscription isn't working. Yesterday morning it suddenly asked for my password, something it hasn't done in a few months, and it won't accept what I know to be the password. So I clicked on the "forgot password, please send", and it says it sent the password to my email id, but it didn't. Even after several tries.
I'm lost without Bloglines! Ack!
Last night I sent Bloglines an email asking for help, and I have not yet received a reply. Is this just me? Anyone else having problems?
I set up a new subscription today with a different email id, and that's working fine, but I didn't have time to resubscribe to more than a few of the original blogs. Very annoying.
Otherwise, nothing happening. Sewing day again.
.
Friday, March 14, 2008
1727 I don't know if I can volunteer again.
Friday, March 14, 2008
I volunteered again today at a tax clinic. This one was for seniors who don't usually make enough to file taxes, but have to this year in order to get the $600/$1200 rebate.
This was run by the same bunch that didn't show up last month, and didn't notify us volunteers that it was cancelled.
They did show up today, but I wish they hadn't. Everything was so screwed up. I spent a lot of time being frustrated.
From here on, I'm blowing off steam. Feel free to hit "Back" on your browser.
They told me to report to the RSVP (Retired and Seniors Volunteer Program) office, address 409 Commercial Park. I Googled the address, so I knew generally where I was going. However, it was still difficult to find.
Commercial Park used to be a mall, consisting of three large connected buildings. It used to be a grocery store, a department store, and a bunch of smaller stores, but the county bought it, revamped it, and it's now Social Services offices in the center building, county college classrooms in one end building along with some other offices, and Family services and some kind of business incubator in the other end. As you are driving down the street, there isn't a single sign anywhere saying "Commercial Park"! If you don't already know that's Commercial Park, you'd never find it.
So, I parked. The only sign identifying what's in any building is the Social Services sign over the central building. No numbers. No office listings.
I went into the central building, and asked the security officers where #409 was. They told me the left end building. I walked over there. Again, no office listings, no directory.
I asked the security officers in that building where #409 was. They gave me directions down some twisting hallways. The office numbers went up, but stopped at around 403. I kept walking, and found an open door with no sign, and no number, and asked where RSVP was. That was it. Gee, thanks. Are you hiding?
I asked where I was supposed to go for the tax clinic. The secretary didn't know. Said I should ask the security guards. Back to lobby. They didn't know either, but guessed it was probably a classroom, "try down that hall". I found a room with people in it, and asked. Yup, that's it.
I went back and told the security officers where it was.
It got worse. I at least knew to go to Commercial Park, and had figured out where that was.
Whoever had advertised it to the seniors wasn't very clear about where folks should go (we were in classrooms in the county college branch), and a lot of the seniors who came in (with canes, walkers, friends or relatives who had taken off work to drive them) were very angry because apparently the flyers said that it was sponsored by a state representative's office, so they went to that office in uptown first. The secretary there had no idea where the tax clinic was, so she sent them to the County Office for Aging (which at least was in Commercial Park). The Office for Aging had no idea where it was, but suspected that RSVP had something to do with it, so they sent them to that office, which at least was in the same office park, but they had to go through the same runaround I had endured. A woman somehow managed to find us, and when she told me RSVP still didn't know where we were, I called RSVP and the Office for Aging and told them.
That is totally ridiculous! I don't blame these people for being angry. I wonder how many elders needed our help, but never found us.
I did intake.
The flyer apparently did not tell them what paperwork they had to bring. I was told by the idiot woman in charge that the senior MUST have their actual social security card, and the letter they get from SS detailing the amount they got in 2007. My instructions were to verify that they had both items, and if they didn't, I was to send them home to get them. Then I'd give them a form to fill out, and the two other volunteers would help them with the forms. When the forms were completed, the clients were to wait on the other side of the room to be called to the tax prep room across the hall, where there were seven accountants with laptops. I was to put a sequence number on the form so I could send them over in sequence.
I asked how I would know when the next should be sent, since I couldn't see the tax room. That caused much consternation. The woman in charge told me that each client would take about 10 minutes, so I should GET UP AND WALK ACROSS THE HALL EVERY 10 MINUTES to see if there were any free preparers. The expression on my face said "Bullshit!" That's stupid! If a client takes 11 minutes, that ... well, figure it out you idiot.
I suggested that when an accountant finishes a client, he or she should cross the hall and give me a high sign, and I'd sent the next. She said no, we don't want to inconvenience the preparers. So I suggested that the preparers tell the client when they are finished to, on their way out, stick their head in the door and let me know they're done. She didn't like that, either. In the end, she took one of the two volunteers who were supposed to help with the forms, and stationed her at the doorway of the tax room, and when a client left, she'd come in and call the next sequential number.
My God! Extremely inefficient use of resources.
So, pissed off clients who had wandered all over the city started arriving. They got more pissed off when 5 of the first 6 to arrive did not have their SS cards. SS had advised them not to carry them, to keep them in a safe place. They all did, however, have their Medicare cards, which are provided by SS, and have their SS numbers on them.
I crossed the hall and explained the problem, and asked if the Medicare card would do. The idiot woman who had given me the instructions said no, it MUST be the actual SS card, that it was an IRS requirement. So I had to send those pissed off people home.
More arrived, same problem. I went to one of the accountants to argue their case, and the accountant said the Medicare card would be fine, that it was needed simply to establish identity, since anyone could have intercepted the amount letter. But since the Medicare card had the SS# on it, and it would match the letter, that would establish identity.
Then a guy showed up with neither SS card nor Medicare card. He couldn't understand why his driver's licence wouldn't establish id. Yeah, it doesn't have SS#, but it does have a photo and his name, and the name matches the letter.
I personally agreed, in fact I thought it was a better proof of id, so I crossed the hall and asked the idiot woman in charge. She said absolutely not. Send him home. I sent three people home, then asked an accountant. The accountant said sure, driver's licence would be fine.
The idiot woman in charge must have been arbitrarily making up her own rules.
I felt bad for all the people who, after getting the runaround on location, were sent home because that idiot woman was making up her own rules without consulting the preparers, and seemed to enjoy playing "Gotcha! with the clients.
So, we finally got in the groove, and people were getting in and getting processed, when one of the volunteers announces, at 11:40, that she is hypoglycemic and must eat at noon. There's a diner right across the parking lot, so she's going to go get takeout and will be right back. There was a lull, so the other volunteer, who was helping people fill out forms, decided to go with her. Get takeout. Be right back. A few minutes.
They returned at 1:20. Without takeout. They had eaten in the diner. Leaving me alone to do intake, help with forms, and keep an eye on openings in the tax room for an hour and a half. Alone. At the busiest time, since the easiest time for the seniors to get a ride was lunchtime.
I was incredibly pissed.
When they returned and asked if more people had been in, I said yes, and told them how many. I didn't say anything else. I doubt they noticed that more people had been in while they were missing than during the time they had been there.
The flyer had said the hours were 9 to 3. I was told to turn away anyone who arrived after 2. They didn't want to start anyone new after 2, even though the average process time, from getting the intake form to finished e-filing, was 15 minutes. In my opinion, the flyers should have SAID that the last clients would be accepted at 2. Who's the flyer addressed to? Shouldn't it give information important to the intended audience?
That about blew the top of my head off. At 2 pm I stacked everything, cleared the desk, and got the hell out of there. I did NOT want to be there when someone came at 2:05 and I had to tell them they were too late. Uh uh. No way. Especially after having sent folks home for SS cards they didn't really need. I'm outta here.
I hate career bureaucrats! Thinking is foreign to them. But then, that IS the definition of bureaucrat.
-----------------------------
The only amusing part of the day - the woman who said she had to file for her husband because he has "aged hymers, whatever they are...". (Actually, the implications of what she said are sad. Somebody has not filled her in on what that is, and what it means.)
.
I volunteered again today at a tax clinic. This one was for seniors who don't usually make enough to file taxes, but have to this year in order to get the $600/$1200 rebate.
This was run by the same bunch that didn't show up last month, and didn't notify us volunteers that it was cancelled.
They did show up today, but I wish they hadn't. Everything was so screwed up. I spent a lot of time being frustrated.
From here on, I'm blowing off steam. Feel free to hit "Back" on your browser.
They told me to report to the RSVP (Retired and Seniors Volunteer Program) office, address 409 Commercial Park. I Googled the address, so I knew generally where I was going. However, it was still difficult to find.
Commercial Park used to be a mall, consisting of three large connected buildings. It used to be a grocery store, a department store, and a bunch of smaller stores, but the county bought it, revamped it, and it's now Social Services offices in the center building, county college classrooms in one end building along with some other offices, and Family services and some kind of business incubator in the other end. As you are driving down the street, there isn't a single sign anywhere saying "Commercial Park"! If you don't already know that's Commercial Park, you'd never find it.
So, I parked. The only sign identifying what's in any building is the Social Services sign over the central building. No numbers. No office listings.
I went into the central building, and asked the security officers where #409 was. They told me the left end building. I walked over there. Again, no office listings, no directory.
I asked the security officers in that building where #409 was. They gave me directions down some twisting hallways. The office numbers went up, but stopped at around 403. I kept walking, and found an open door with no sign, and no number, and asked where RSVP was. That was it. Gee, thanks. Are you hiding?
I asked where I was supposed to go for the tax clinic. The secretary didn't know. Said I should ask the security guards. Back to lobby. They didn't know either, but guessed it was probably a classroom, "try down that hall". I found a room with people in it, and asked. Yup, that's it.
I went back and told the security officers where it was.
It got worse. I at least knew to go to Commercial Park, and had figured out where that was.
Whoever had advertised it to the seniors wasn't very clear about where folks should go (we were in classrooms in the county college branch), and a lot of the seniors who came in (with canes, walkers, friends or relatives who had taken off work to drive them) were very angry because apparently the flyers said that it was sponsored by a state representative's office, so they went to that office in uptown first. The secretary there had no idea where the tax clinic was, so she sent them to the County Office for Aging (which at least was in Commercial Park). The Office for Aging had no idea where it was, but suspected that RSVP had something to do with it, so they sent them to that office, which at least was in the same office park, but they had to go through the same runaround I had endured. A woman somehow managed to find us, and when she told me RSVP still didn't know where we were, I called RSVP and the Office for Aging and told them.
That is totally ridiculous! I don't blame these people for being angry. I wonder how many elders needed our help, but never found us.
I did intake.
The flyer apparently did not tell them what paperwork they had to bring. I was told by the idiot woman in charge that the senior MUST have their actual social security card, and the letter they get from SS detailing the amount they got in 2007. My instructions were to verify that they had both items, and if they didn't, I was to send them home to get them. Then I'd give them a form to fill out, and the two other volunteers would help them with the forms. When the forms were completed, the clients were to wait on the other side of the room to be called to the tax prep room across the hall, where there were seven accountants with laptops. I was to put a sequence number on the form so I could send them over in sequence.
I asked how I would know when the next should be sent, since I couldn't see the tax room. That caused much consternation. The woman in charge told me that each client would take about 10 minutes, so I should GET UP AND WALK ACROSS THE HALL EVERY 10 MINUTES to see if there were any free preparers. The expression on my face said "Bullshit!" That's stupid! If a client takes 11 minutes, that ... well, figure it out you idiot.
I suggested that when an accountant finishes a client, he or she should cross the hall and give me a high sign, and I'd sent the next. She said no, we don't want to inconvenience the preparers. So I suggested that the preparers tell the client when they are finished to, on their way out, stick their head in the door and let me know they're done. She didn't like that, either. In the end, she took one of the two volunteers who were supposed to help with the forms, and stationed her at the doorway of the tax room, and when a client left, she'd come in and call the next sequential number.
My God! Extremely inefficient use of resources.
So, pissed off clients who had wandered all over the city started arriving. They got more pissed off when 5 of the first 6 to arrive did not have their SS cards. SS had advised them not to carry them, to keep them in a safe place. They all did, however, have their Medicare cards, which are provided by SS, and have their SS numbers on them.
I crossed the hall and explained the problem, and asked if the Medicare card would do. The idiot woman who had given me the instructions said no, it MUST be the actual SS card, that it was an IRS requirement. So I had to send those pissed off people home.
More arrived, same problem. I went to one of the accountants to argue their case, and the accountant said the Medicare card would be fine, that it was needed simply to establish identity, since anyone could have intercepted the amount letter. But since the Medicare card had the SS# on it, and it would match the letter, that would establish identity.
Then a guy showed up with neither SS card nor Medicare card. He couldn't understand why his driver's licence wouldn't establish id. Yeah, it doesn't have SS#, but it does have a photo and his name, and the name matches the letter.
I personally agreed, in fact I thought it was a better proof of id, so I crossed the hall and asked the idiot woman in charge. She said absolutely not. Send him home. I sent three people home, then asked an accountant. The accountant said sure, driver's licence would be fine.
The idiot woman in charge must have been arbitrarily making up her own rules.
I felt bad for all the people who, after getting the runaround on location, were sent home because that idiot woman was making up her own rules without consulting the preparers, and seemed to enjoy playing "Gotcha! with the clients.
So, we finally got in the groove, and people were getting in and getting processed, when one of the volunteers announces, at 11:40, that she is hypoglycemic and must eat at noon. There's a diner right across the parking lot, so she's going to go get takeout and will be right back. There was a lull, so the other volunteer, who was helping people fill out forms, decided to go with her. Get takeout. Be right back. A few minutes.
They returned at 1:20. Without takeout. They had eaten in the diner. Leaving me alone to do intake, help with forms, and keep an eye on openings in the tax room for an hour and a half. Alone. At the busiest time, since the easiest time for the seniors to get a ride was lunchtime.
I was incredibly pissed.
When they returned and asked if more people had been in, I said yes, and told them how many. I didn't say anything else. I doubt they noticed that more people had been in while they were missing than during the time they had been there.
The flyer had said the hours were 9 to 3. I was told to turn away anyone who arrived after 2. They didn't want to start anyone new after 2, even though the average process time, from getting the intake form to finished e-filing, was 15 minutes. In my opinion, the flyers should have SAID that the last clients would be accepted at 2. Who's the flyer addressed to? Shouldn't it give information important to the intended audience?
That about blew the top of my head off. At 2 pm I stacked everything, cleared the desk, and got the hell out of there. I did NOT want to be there when someone came at 2:05 and I had to tell them they were too late. Uh uh. No way. Especially after having sent folks home for SS cards they didn't really need. I'm outta here.
I hate career bureaucrats! Thinking is foreign to them. But then, that IS the definition of bureaucrat.
-----------------------------
The only amusing part of the day - the woman who said she had to file for her husband because he has "aged hymers, whatever they are...". (Actually, the implications of what she said are sad. Somebody has not filled her in on what that is, and what it means.)
.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
1726 Complaints
Thursday, March 13, 2008
The weatherman on the news said that there "will be no weather" today. I expected to look out the door and find a gray void.
------------------
There was an episode of "Friends" where Russ had his teeth whitened, and they were so blinding that the others screamed and made him keep his mouth closed. Blinding white teeth were considered silly.
I've seen a lot of blinding teeth on TV lately. Seems like everyone who is going to be on camera goes out and gets a mouthful of porcelain. Toilet tank mouth. It takes over their face. It's getting to where that's all I see. Almost no one has teeth naturally that white.
Flashing teeth are as ubiquitous as fake breasts and vulva lips. It's just not good enough to be natural any more.
My teeth are nowhere near white. I drink a lot of tea, and I smoke, but even if I didn't my teeth wouldn't be white. In high school, before coffee, tea, and cigarettes, I placed about the middle on the dentist's shade chart (which, by the way, is about average). No amount of safe bleaching will get me any higher than that.
I am annoyed that all these startling teeth are threatening to make me feel inadequate, no matter how much I yell "Fake!"
What's next? Eye shape? Will we all be not almond enough, or not round enough?
--------------------------
It's easy to tell it's been an annoying winter. I'm in complain mode. It's that or hide under the covers until the cherry trees bloom.
.
The weatherman on the news said that there "will be no weather" today. I expected to look out the door and find a gray void.
------------------
There was an episode of "Friends" where Russ had his teeth whitened, and they were so blinding that the others screamed and made him keep his mouth closed. Blinding white teeth were considered silly.
I've seen a lot of blinding teeth on TV lately. Seems like everyone who is going to be on camera goes out and gets a mouthful of porcelain. Toilet tank mouth. It takes over their face. It's getting to where that's all I see. Almost no one has teeth naturally that white.
Flashing teeth are as ubiquitous as fake breasts and vulva lips. It's just not good enough to be natural any more.
My teeth are nowhere near white. I drink a lot of tea, and I smoke, but even if I didn't my teeth wouldn't be white. In high school, before coffee, tea, and cigarettes, I placed about the middle on the dentist's shade chart (which, by the way, is about average). No amount of safe bleaching will get me any higher than that.
I am annoyed that all these startling teeth are threatening to make me feel inadequate, no matter how much I yell "Fake!"
What's next? Eye shape? Will we all be not almond enough, or not round enough?
--------------------------
It's easy to tell it's been an annoying winter. I'm in complain mode. It's that or hide under the covers until the cherry trees bloom.
.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
1725 Run-on talker, drugs, GPS, CC, etc.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
(Yeah, ok, icky title. But I don't do cute, they're supposed to help me find stuff later. I don't want to use tags, because tags lead to more search engine hits, and I don't particularly want that.)
I have always paid off my credit card balances in full every month. The past nine months or so, however, I've been using the cards for more (taxes, insurance, etc.), and someone told me that it's actually better for my credit rating to carry a balance, so I've been paying off half or two-thirds of the balance every month. The cost balanced out with my money market account, so it was ok.
Recently, the money market has tanked. So earlier this month I decided to pay off the credit card totals from the money market account.
Much excitement!
The banks have panicked.
They're afraid I'm on the verge of closing the accounts, and are making all kinds of inducement offers, including stuff like blank checks I can write with 0% interest for three months. I'm tempted to write an enormous check or two, invest the money, and in three months pay it back and keep the interest earned.
Howcome for all those years that I always paid off every month, no one tried to woo me?
----------------------
A year or two ago, I wrote a post about how hospice had told me to flush Jay's rather powerful and controlled meds after he died, and how I reacted in horror because we all have septic tanks and wells around here, and I didn't want to put them into the groundwater. I was also concerned that older city sewer treatment plants (who do not include reverse osmosis) can't remove pharmaceuticals, and they don't test for them in the water they release, and I think it's becoming a more serious problem than people realize.
Well, guess what's in the news lately. Nobody has a solution, either.
----------------------
I need to register some disclaimers for my post on the "Ugly American" women. The fake-looking red hair adorns no one I know personally. I know a few redheads who do color their hair, but they all look reasonable. The red I described does not occur in nature. The first time I saw that particular color was in 1997, in France, where it seemed like one out of every three women had it. It's a very hard, brittle looking color. Jay and I referred to it as "French whore-head red". It's not very common in the US, or at least not in the venues I frequent.
And I know two women who have a nose stud, but they're both graceful, polite, and don't overwhelm a room with noise. Their studs are beauty marks. On the service station woman, it gave the impression of a bovine nose ring.
So no hackles, please.
-----------------------
Now I *am* going to pick on someone. She sometimes attends the dinners, and I always feel a sinking feeling when I see her at the table. She's perhaps late 50s, very nice, sweet, harmless. Soft innocent smiling face. But she drives me crazy with the way she speaks.
"...and then, uh, I tried to, tried to figure out what the, uh, buttons on the, uh, on the side were for, uh, and I thought maybe if I, if I pressed them in, uh, sequence, uh, maybe I could, maybe I could get some, uh, some sound out, uh, if they, if they, uh, worked that way, but, uh, ...."
That is not an exaggeration.
She has a tiny high-pitched little-girl voice, and she talks relatively fast, and sounds breathless, a quick intake breath after every "uh". Even that wouldn't be so bad, all the "uh"s and repetitions in a high voice, but she talks constantly! She goes on and on and on with no pauses. With all the "uh"s and run-on sentences, there's no chance for someone else to get a word in. No one else at the table can talk at all unless they're willing to interrupt and talk over her.
She did mention last evening, in the context of wanting to learn bagpipe, that she has some kind of lung problem, so that may explain all the "uh"s. Small lung capacity? And maybe the run-on sentences and the repetition is because if she doesn't, she gets interrupted when she has to take a breath, and it's a defensive habit?
Ok. Believe it or not, I started this very annoyed with her, and worked out the above while writing this. So maybe I won't be so annoyed next time. BUT, she still talks too much! She needs to let someone else say something occasionally. Sheesh. Her monologues sound like my blog entries!
---------------------
I bought a Garmin GPS unit online from Costco, for my car. The box arrived last Friday. I opened it before the UPS guy had left the driveway, and saw inside several plastic packages containing the "acessories pack" I had ordered, and the smaller cubical box for the device.
A few minutes later, I opened the smaller box. It contained more accessories, in plastic bags - some, like the USB cable and a power cable, repeats of the accessories pack. Duh? No GPS device. No instruction book.
I called Costco. They said they'd have UPS come out and take the box and contents, and that I'd eventually get a charge-back on my card. They wanted me to immediately reorder another device. I didn't want to, because that would put both on my card at once, and what if they didn't refund me? Now I realize that looks bad, because if I'm ripping them off, I wouldn't want to order another. I'm not sure what I should do. I will eventually order another, but if I don't get the refund from Costco, I don't want to order another from them....
The UPS guy came this morning, and he agrees with me that the second set of accessories in the smaller box looks like the device was stolen at the warehouse. The extra stuff may have been put in to make the weight look right. I don't know what that means as far as a refund goes. Who do I get it from, and how long will it take? It was $100 off the usual price, and that goes only until March 31, so I'll want to reorder before then.
And, that's my week so far.
.
(Yeah, ok, icky title. But I don't do cute, they're supposed to help me find stuff later. I don't want to use tags, because tags lead to more search engine hits, and I don't particularly want that.)
I have always paid off my credit card balances in full every month. The past nine months or so, however, I've been using the cards for more (taxes, insurance, etc.), and someone told me that it's actually better for my credit rating to carry a balance, so I've been paying off half or two-thirds of the balance every month. The cost balanced out with my money market account, so it was ok.
Recently, the money market has tanked. So earlier this month I decided to pay off the credit card totals from the money market account.
Much excitement!
The banks have panicked.
They're afraid I'm on the verge of closing the accounts, and are making all kinds of inducement offers, including stuff like blank checks I can write with 0% interest for three months. I'm tempted to write an enormous check or two, invest the money, and in three months pay it back and keep the interest earned.
Howcome for all those years that I always paid off every month, no one tried to woo me?
----------------------
A year or two ago, I wrote a post about how hospice had told me to flush Jay's rather powerful and controlled meds after he died, and how I reacted in horror because we all have septic tanks and wells around here, and I didn't want to put them into the groundwater. I was also concerned that older city sewer treatment plants (who do not include reverse osmosis) can't remove pharmaceuticals, and they don't test for them in the water they release, and I think it's becoming a more serious problem than people realize.
Well, guess what's in the news lately. Nobody has a solution, either.
----------------------
I need to register some disclaimers for my post on the "Ugly American" women. The fake-looking red hair adorns no one I know personally. I know a few redheads who do color their hair, but they all look reasonable. The red I described does not occur in nature. The first time I saw that particular color was in 1997, in France, where it seemed like one out of every three women had it. It's a very hard, brittle looking color. Jay and I referred to it as "French whore-head red". It's not very common in the US, or at least not in the venues I frequent.
And I know two women who have a nose stud, but they're both graceful, polite, and don't overwhelm a room with noise. Their studs are beauty marks. On the service station woman, it gave the impression of a bovine nose ring.
So no hackles, please.
-----------------------
Now I *am* going to pick on someone. She sometimes attends the dinners, and I always feel a sinking feeling when I see her at the table. She's perhaps late 50s, very nice, sweet, harmless. Soft innocent smiling face. But she drives me crazy with the way she speaks.
"...and then, uh, I tried to, tried to figure out what the, uh, buttons on the, uh, on the side were for, uh, and I thought maybe if I, if I pressed them in, uh, sequence, uh, maybe I could, maybe I could get some, uh, some sound out, uh, if they, if they, uh, worked that way, but, uh, ...."
That is not an exaggeration.
She has a tiny high-pitched little-girl voice, and she talks relatively fast, and sounds breathless, a quick intake breath after every "uh". Even that wouldn't be so bad, all the "uh"s and repetitions in a high voice, but she talks constantly! She goes on and on and on with no pauses. With all the "uh"s and run-on sentences, there's no chance for someone else to get a word in. No one else at the table can talk at all unless they're willing to interrupt and talk over her.
She did mention last evening, in the context of wanting to learn bagpipe, that she has some kind of lung problem, so that may explain all the "uh"s. Small lung capacity? And maybe the run-on sentences and the repetition is because if she doesn't, she gets interrupted when she has to take a breath, and it's a defensive habit?
Ok. Believe it or not, I started this very annoyed with her, and worked out the above while writing this. So maybe I won't be so annoyed next time. BUT, she still talks too much! She needs to let someone else say something occasionally. Sheesh. Her monologues sound like my blog entries!
---------------------
I bought a Garmin GPS unit online from Costco, for my car. The box arrived last Friday. I opened it before the UPS guy had left the driveway, and saw inside several plastic packages containing the "acessories pack" I had ordered, and the smaller cubical box for the device.
A few minutes later, I opened the smaller box. It contained more accessories, in plastic bags - some, like the USB cable and a power cable, repeats of the accessories pack. Duh? No GPS device. No instruction book.
I called Costco. They said they'd have UPS come out and take the box and contents, and that I'd eventually get a charge-back on my card. They wanted me to immediately reorder another device. I didn't want to, because that would put both on my card at once, and what if they didn't refund me? Now I realize that looks bad, because if I'm ripping them off, I wouldn't want to order another. I'm not sure what I should do. I will eventually order another, but if I don't get the refund from Costco, I don't want to order another from them....
The UPS guy came this morning, and he agrees with me that the second set of accessories in the smaller box looks like the device was stolen at the warehouse. The extra stuff may have been put in to make the weight look right. I don't know what that means as far as a refund goes. Who do I get it from, and how long will it take? It was $100 off the usual price, and that goes only until March 31, so I'll want to reorder before then.
And, that's my week so far.
.
1724 Musical Transformers
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
I haven't paid much attention to the rock genre of popular music since the early 90s. It seemed to me that the object had become simply to make loud noise. Drummers had become either mechanical or maniacal. No one sang any more, they shouted. I figure that if your shoulders relax and drop when the "music" ends, it isn't music. It's just noise.
I discovered a year or two ago that I sort of like a lot of the Grateful Dead. That surprised me. Driving home from dinner last night I heard something on the radio that I really liked. The music was intricate, and the musicians really knew what they were doing. A lot of talent there. The vocal part was a bit loud and hoarse-throaty, verging on shouting, but it was still singing, there was an actual melody, and if the guy had relaxed a bit, he would have been pretty good. I really like both the guitar and drums.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered it was Metallica, "Wherever I May Roam".
Me? Metallica?
So when I got home, I searched YouTube for the video, and rediscovered my other complaint. I don't like the violence inherent in so much of this music, or at least in the performances. If I turn my back on the screen, if I hear but not see it, I like it. If I watch the performance, I dislike it.
Odd, eh?
Well, here it is. The first is accompanied by photos, not a performance. Even if you don't like the music, you have to admit there's real, admirable, talent there.
[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=REDddORqjxI]
And here's a video with performance, same selection. It starts out ok, but as it goes on and the energy goes up, I feel more and more negative. Anyone else have the same reaction?
[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g_8bixXnEDY]
.
I haven't paid much attention to the rock genre of popular music since the early 90s. It seemed to me that the object had become simply to make loud noise. Drummers had become either mechanical or maniacal. No one sang any more, they shouted. I figure that if your shoulders relax and drop when the "music" ends, it isn't music. It's just noise.
I discovered a year or two ago that I sort of like a lot of the Grateful Dead. That surprised me. Driving home from dinner last night I heard something on the radio that I really liked. The music was intricate, and the musicians really knew what they were doing. A lot of talent there. The vocal part was a bit loud and hoarse-throaty, verging on shouting, but it was still singing, there was an actual melody, and if the guy had relaxed a bit, he would have been pretty good. I really like both the guitar and drums.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered it was Metallica, "Wherever I May Roam".
Me? Metallica?
So when I got home, I searched YouTube for the video, and rediscovered my other complaint. I don't like the violence inherent in so much of this music, or at least in the performances. If I turn my back on the screen, if I hear but not see it, I like it. If I watch the performance, I dislike it.
Odd, eh?
Well, here it is. The first is accompanied by photos, not a performance. Even if you don't like the music, you have to admit there's real, admirable, talent there.
[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=REDddORqjxI]
And here's a video with performance, same selection. It starts out ok, but as it goes on and the energy goes up, I feel more and more negative. Anyone else have the same reaction?
[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g_8bixXnEDY]
.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
1723 Freak
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
I have fibromyalgia. It's not formally diagnosed because it's not something that can be cured or treated, so there's no point in having it on my record, but I do have eight of the sensitive points, and I have pain somewhere all the time. I also have a very high pain threshold - that "knuckle the sternum" thing to check for consciousness doesn't work on me, for example, and when my gall bladder went west, I didn't know there was anything wrong until I started throwing up coffee grounds. (Translation: blood.)
Anyway, I have something a little weird, and I don't know if it's common or not. If it's not common, I wonder if it's related to the fibro.
I found an ingrown hair on the outside of my left thigh this morning, and I was poking and pinching at it, and I didn't feel the pinch in my thigh. I felt it on the outside of my left bicep. I often sense a surface pain on my lower body as on the upper body, and vice versa. Like the nerves are messed up. The brain interprets a surface pain on the thigh as coming from the arm, and then I semi-consciously remap it to the proper place on the thigh. This is normal for me, and I've never really questioned it.
IS this common, normal? Do you ever, often?, feel a pinch far distant from where the pinch really is?
------------------------
Gov. Spitzer has been caught in a prostitution scandal. His legal problem is not with the misdemeanor visits, but with the felony act of moving money around to hide the payments.
I'm having some trouble understanding that. It's a felony to move money around? He moved money from his personal accounts to a holding company for the prostitution company, which may have had some "tax implications". That's the part I don't understand. Don't the taxes still get paid, one way or another? I'm going to have to follow this.
The visits to prostitutes is a public relations problem. My opinion on that? Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.
A lot of the blather is about how so many men in positions of influence and power seem to have sex scandals that take them down. People with
--- break ---
I had to run off mid-sentence. I looked at the clock and it was 5:15 pm. I had to leave the house by 5:30 to meet some friends for dinner, grand opening of a Thai restaurant, and I was sitting here in my PJs, unwashed and uncombed (yeah, at 5 pm, wanna make something of it? Benefits of retirement! I earned it! Shuddup!) Darn daylight savings time. My internal clock is all messed up.
--- end of break, 10 pm ---
So where was I? People with a lot to lose seem to do stupid things they know will hurt them if they're found out, and yet they do it. And the blatherers seem surprised by that.
I'm not, for several reasons.
The neighbor next door might be cheating on his wife with the secretary (or intern), but the big difference is that he doesn't have reporters and everybody else in the world following him around and poking into everything looking for dirt. Nobody cares. Spitzer turned up on a list of clients of the prostitutes. If neighbor John turned up on the list, no one would care, and we'd likely never hear about it. And there are a lot of Johns out there. A lot of men do exactly the same things that have taken down politicians and preachers lately. They escape scrutiny and vilification because, frankly, no one cares.
So that's one reason why. Scrutiny.
A second reason is that you don't acquire power by playing it safe. Powerful people take risks. Risk takers go for it. They did. Some of them took the risk and lost. You can bet your patooty that there are a lot more powerful people out there taking the same risk, and they will often be the loudest in condemning the guy who got caught. (Monicagate springs to mind.) They're not condemning him for what naughty thing he did --- they are condemning him for getting caught.
That's another reason why. Risk taking.
Third, the more powerful men get more women. At least they're supposed to. That's deep in the brain from cave days. More women, more breeding opportunities, more progeny. Otherwise, why work so hard and risk so much? It's animal nature. So a powerful man, deep in the dark recesses of his brain, thinks he deserves the reward. A powerful man also has more temptation thrown at him. That's why so many of them have serial wives, and/or get caught in embarrassing sexual escapades.
That's a third reason. A desire to collect the rewards.
--- Flash! On TV news this very minute, an analyst has said that Ms. Clinton's "as far as I know" (that something was not so) was a slip, and an admission of guilt! Oh, come on! "As far as I know" means that "I don't know that what you said is true, it may be true, but I know nothing about it". She's a lawyer! If she doesn't know that something is not true, then she CAN'T say "It's not true", because she doesn't know that. All she can truthfully say is "As far as I know, it is not true." Good Grief, people! There are very few things any of us know with certainty.
Am I going to have to stop watching the news again? End of flash ---
.
I have fibromyalgia. It's not formally diagnosed because it's not something that can be cured or treated, so there's no point in having it on my record, but I do have eight of the sensitive points, and I have pain somewhere all the time. I also have a very high pain threshold - that "knuckle the sternum" thing to check for consciousness doesn't work on me, for example, and when my gall bladder went west, I didn't know there was anything wrong until I started throwing up coffee grounds. (Translation: blood.)
Anyway, I have something a little weird, and I don't know if it's common or not. If it's not common, I wonder if it's related to the fibro.
I found an ingrown hair on the outside of my left thigh this morning, and I was poking and pinching at it, and I didn't feel the pinch in my thigh. I felt it on the outside of my left bicep. I often sense a surface pain on my lower body as on the upper body, and vice versa. Like the nerves are messed up. The brain interprets a surface pain on the thigh as coming from the arm, and then I semi-consciously remap it to the proper place on the thigh. This is normal for me, and I've never really questioned it.
IS this common, normal? Do you ever, often?, feel a pinch far distant from where the pinch really is?
------------------------
Gov. Spitzer has been caught in a prostitution scandal. His legal problem is not with the misdemeanor visits, but with the felony act of moving money around to hide the payments.
I'm having some trouble understanding that. It's a felony to move money around? He moved money from his personal accounts to a holding company for the prostitution company, which may have had some "tax implications". That's the part I don't understand. Don't the taxes still get paid, one way or another? I'm going to have to follow this.
The visits to prostitutes is a public relations problem. My opinion on that? Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.
A lot of the blather is about how so many men in positions of influence and power seem to have sex scandals that take them down. People with
--- break ---
I had to run off mid-sentence. I looked at the clock and it was 5:15 pm. I had to leave the house by 5:30 to meet some friends for dinner, grand opening of a Thai restaurant, and I was sitting here in my PJs, unwashed and uncombed (yeah, at 5 pm, wanna make something of it? Benefits of retirement! I earned it! Shuddup!) Darn daylight savings time. My internal clock is all messed up.
--- end of break, 10 pm ---
So where was I? People with a lot to lose seem to do stupid things they know will hurt them if they're found out, and yet they do it. And the blatherers seem surprised by that.
I'm not, for several reasons.
The neighbor next door might be cheating on his wife with the secretary (or intern), but the big difference is that he doesn't have reporters and everybody else in the world following him around and poking into everything looking for dirt. Nobody cares. Spitzer turned up on a list of clients of the prostitutes. If neighbor John turned up on the list, no one would care, and we'd likely never hear about it. And there are a lot of Johns out there. A lot of men do exactly the same things that have taken down politicians and preachers lately. They escape scrutiny and vilification because, frankly, no one cares.
So that's one reason why. Scrutiny.
A second reason is that you don't acquire power by playing it safe. Powerful people take risks. Risk takers go for it. They did. Some of them took the risk and lost. You can bet your patooty that there are a lot more powerful people out there taking the same risk, and they will often be the loudest in condemning the guy who got caught. (Monicagate springs to mind.) They're not condemning him for what naughty thing he did --- they are condemning him for getting caught.
That's another reason why. Risk taking.
Third, the more powerful men get more women. At least they're supposed to. That's deep in the brain from cave days. More women, more breeding opportunities, more progeny. Otherwise, why work so hard and risk so much? It's animal nature. So a powerful man, deep in the dark recesses of his brain, thinks he deserves the reward. A powerful man also has more temptation thrown at him. That's why so many of them have serial wives, and/or get caught in embarrassing sexual escapades.
That's a third reason. A desire to collect the rewards.
--- Flash! On TV news this very minute, an analyst has said that Ms. Clinton's "as far as I know" (that something was not so) was a slip, and an admission of guilt! Oh, come on! "As far as I know" means that "I don't know that what you said is true, it may be true, but I know nothing about it". She's a lawyer! If she doesn't know that something is not true, then she CAN'T say "It's not true", because she doesn't know that. All she can truthfully say is "As far as I know, it is not true." Good Grief, people! There are very few things any of us know with certainty.
Am I going to have to stop watching the news again? End of flash ---
.
1722 Faint of Heart
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Shreve, over there at "The Daily Coyote", has a post today about giving Charlie the coyote a deer heart. (By the way, I highly recommend her blog about Charlie. Her photos are beautiful. If you go there, be aware that the diary is several months behind, so the story is now from last fall.) She cautions readers that if they are faint of heart, they should read no further.
I offer the same caution here. You may want to skip this entry.
Beef heart was one of my grandmother's specialties.
That was in the '50s, when one bought meat at a butcher shop, and it was absolutely fresh. The butcher often, uh, see, this is where the first faint part is, butchered the animals himself that morning.
Gramma would put in her order, and when the butcher had a fresh-that-morning beef or veal heart, he'd call her. She'd pick up the heart and a quart of fresh blood. The blood had to be absolutely fresh.
How to prepare beef heart:
It was wonderful. If you're a carnivore, anyway. Or a vampire.
As late as the early '70s it was still possible to get a fresh heart and blood, so I have cooked it myself a few times, but it's been some 30+ years since. I miss it. Hearts these days go into hot dogs and dog food, I guess. I suppose during hunting season it's still possible to get venison heart, but I don't know if it would taste the same, and it's definitely not the same without the blood gravy.
Gee. Organ meat is high in cholesterol. I wonder if that's why that side of my family almost all died of strokes.
.
Shreve, over there at "The Daily Coyote", has a post today about giving Charlie the coyote a deer heart. (By the way, I highly recommend her blog about Charlie. Her photos are beautiful. If you go there, be aware that the diary is several months behind, so the story is now from last fall.) She cautions readers that if they are faint of heart, they should read no further.
I offer the same caution here. You may want to skip this entry.
Beef heart was one of my grandmother's specialties.
That was in the '50s, when one bought meat at a butcher shop, and it was absolutely fresh. The butcher often, uh, see, this is where the first faint part is, butchered the animals himself that morning.
Gramma would put in her order, and when the butcher had a fresh-that-morning beef or veal heart, he'd call her. She'd pick up the heart and a quart of fresh blood. The blood had to be absolutely fresh.
How to prepare beef heart:
- Remove any covering tissues. With a very sharp thin knife, cut out all the major blood vessels. They tend to be tough. Going in through the blood vessel openings, cut out any internal valves.
- Make a stuffing of chopped carrots, turnips, parsnips, onions, leeks, and celery, and a little bread or oatmeal. Season with various herbs, and stuff the heart through the vessel openings.
- Sprinkle with salt and pepper, and roast it slowly.
- Make gravy with the blood and a little stock and flour. This is the richest most flavorful gravy in the world.
- Slice, and serve.
It was wonderful. If you're a carnivore, anyway. Or a vampire.
As late as the early '70s it was still possible to get a fresh heart and blood, so I have cooked it myself a few times, but it's been some 30+ years since. I miss it. Hearts these days go into hot dogs and dog food, I guess. I suppose during hunting season it's still possible to get venison heart, but I don't know if it would taste the same, and it's definitely not the same without the blood gravy.
Gee. Organ meat is high in cholesterol. I wonder if that's why that side of my family almost all died of strokes.
.
Monday, March 10, 2008
1721 A Winning Weekend
Monday, March 10, 2008
Visited NJ this past weekend. I drove south through a raging downpour on Saturday. It was a nice weekend. On Saturday night we went to a karaoke bar where he was unknown, and they had a competition which he kept saying he didn't want to be in, but ended up winning anyway. Apparently competition is usual at that place, and many of the contestants were very good. Yeah, he's that good. Anywhere he's ever sung (as far as I know, anyway) they always love him.
We also watched "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back" while sitting in a hot Jacuzzi. The only way to watch a movie!
Sunday we met Daughter for a long late lunch, and he helped her with her resume and gave her some very good interview coaching. She's trying to make another career transition, and she's terribly over-educated for the kind of thing she wants to go into.
There were a lot of coincidences again. The karaoke bar turned out to be a place very near Daughter's home, and I had been there several times with them for dinner. When I tried to give Daughter directions to the hotel on Sunday (a least a half hour from her home), she said she already knew where it was - it was literally next door to SIL Hercules's office building.
I returned today. Everybody's very tired.
.
Visited NJ this past weekend. I drove south through a raging downpour on Saturday. It was a nice weekend. On Saturday night we went to a karaoke bar where he was unknown, and they had a competition which he kept saying he didn't want to be in, but ended up winning anyway. Apparently competition is usual at that place, and many of the contestants were very good. Yeah, he's that good. Anywhere he's ever sung (as far as I know, anyway) they always love him.
We also watched "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back" while sitting in a hot Jacuzzi. The only way to watch a movie!
Sunday we met Daughter for a long late lunch, and he helped her with her resume and gave her some very good interview coaching. She's trying to make another career transition, and she's terribly over-educated for the kind of thing she wants to go into.
There were a lot of coincidences again. The karaoke bar turned out to be a place very near Daughter's home, and I had been there several times with them for dinner. When I tried to give Daughter directions to the hotel on Sunday (a least a half hour from her home), she said she already knew where it was - it was literally next door to SIL Hercules's office building.
I returned today. Everybody's very tired.
.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)