DAVID LETTERMAN'S TOP 10 DRAWBACKS TO WORKING IN A CUBICLE
#10.....Being told to "think outside the box" when you're in a
freakin' box all day long.
#9 .....Not being able to check e-mail attachments without turning
around to see who's behind you.
#8 ....Cubicle Walls do not offer much protection from any kind of gun fire.
#7 .....That nagging feeling that if you press the right button,
you'll get a piece of cheese.
#6 ....Lack of roof rafters for the noose.
#5 .....The walls are too close together for the hammock to work right.
#4 ....23 power cords - 1 outlet.
#3 ....Prison cells are not only bigger, they also have beds.
#2 .....The carpet has been there since 1976 and shows more signs of
life than your co-workers.
And the #1 drawback to working in a cubicle is....
#1 ....You can't walk out and slam the door when you quit.
...that Darwin is DEAD? That somewhere along the lines evolution ground to a halt, and we're sliding backwards? Once medical science was able to overcome Survival of the Fittest, and people too stupid to breed were brought back from the brink, it began. When the good ole boy whose last words should have been "hey man, watch this" is saved, and good people die of cancer or car accidents--the balance is out of whack. The gene pool is decidedly cloudy these days.
Friday, March 30
Fridays are a glorious thing.
DAVID LETTERMAN'S TOP 10 DRAWBACKS TO WORKING IN A CUBICLE
Wednesday, March 28
Thirteen Cases of You Say Tomato
13 Cases of You say Tomato, I say psychopathic/germophobic/unlicensed witchdoctor/craptastic parenting. (Because I AM a perfect parent, thank you, Bre!)
1. By singing along with Carrie Underwood, am I teaching my daughter to be a trashy psychopath? Because that cheating song is catchy and much fun to sing, but if I think about the lyrics, it just screams pSyChO. Don’t know the words? Something like this:
I dug my keys into the side
Of (This/his) pretty little souped up four-wheel-drive
Carved my name into his leather seats
Took a Louisville slugger to both headlights
Slashed a hole in all four tires
Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats. Now I’ll admit to a momentary urge to slap the shit out of the silly bitch when I discovered evidence of the ex’s faithlessness--but then he would have cried, and it was soooo not worth the drama.
2. I was a picky eater. I empathize when my kid doesn’t want to eat something. I’m not making four separate dinners, but I’ll make the kids something if I know we’re having something they find ick. This drives the Honey crazy, since it means that my kids aren’t really game for new exotic foods at his mother’s. I see his point, but man, I was such a picky eater, and I had to take a bite of everything. At least a bite. I would sit at the table for hours facing down my bite of cottage cheese. Eating Cottage cheese was like swallowing vomit to me, and I could not do it. Why my mom loved it so much and served it on a regular basis I cannot fathom
3. Germs. Are you crazy about them? I must confess, I am pretty laid back about it all. I was reading a blog and the author confessed that she took her kids to the “germ pit” aka mall play place. Dude, I love those places. Little O can run herself ragged without having to buy a Crappy Meal.
4. But I am also the one that made the baby’s bottle from tap water. (I heard that gasp of horror) When the time came to switch to formula (Sorry, not a twelve month breastfeeder), I just didn’t see the point in buying special water. I am a big believer in building immunities to the ick of the world through repeated low dose exposures.
5. We don’t do anti-bacterial products in the house, and use them sparingly out in the big bad world. The waterless aspects are too good to pass up, but anit-bac? Not so much.
6. My girlfriend had her daughter on an endless stream of anti-biotic treatments—to the point that she could just call the office and the nurse would call over another re-fill to the pharmacy. No visit, no discussion of symptoms. Isn’t that inherently bad medicine? What if she ever really gets an infection that requires antibiotics? She will be the walking supervirus-resistant to every medicine known to man, baby.
7. I hate the ticklers of the world. When we were kids, there was a man that we adored. But he tickled long past the point of funny or fun. He was not a bad man, there was nothing creepy or inappropriate, he just took things too far. Teasing kids to the point of crying and then mocking them for being babies? Equally Unfunny.
8. Keep track of your children, people. When I worked at B&N, people would drop their young grade schoolers off at the kid’s dept. and go socialize at the other end of the store. WTF? Your cutie pie firstgrader, without an ounce of guile or any natural inhibitions is chatting up the hobo who’d better stop scratching himself soon or I’ll have to intervene. Put down your fricking latte and be a parent. After I left, they were finally allowed to put up signs reminding parents to keep kids in sight. I still see people walk away from their kids. Sigh.
9. Does anyone have superstitious old-world in-laws? Here are a few things that I had never heard of until I gave birth to a Mexican-American princess:
10. Laying a red string on her forehead to cure her tiny baby hiccups. Nobody ever tries to do this to grown-ups, I notice.
11. The belly band to cover the umbillicus until it falls off. Even though they make diapers that go around it, you are supposed to wrap this weird soft piece of material twice around the belly, TIE it to them, and that way you protect the tender belly button. Hey, the BONUS? You then save the piece of flesh that fell off. Is there a spot for that in YOUR baby book?
12. When the soft spot is sunken, it DOESN”T mean she’s getting dehydrated, it means we need to take her to the witch doctor/native (Read unlicensed) chiropractor dude so he can push up on the roof of her mouth and “pop” her soft spot. So you want me to let some guy you know shove his thumb into my tiny daughter’s brainpan?
13. How young is too young to be walking home alone? Too young to be walking on the street AT ALL with no supervision? I live in an okay neighborhood, but Big O is only now (At 11) able to go out and wander the neighborhood without me. I see toddlers out in the yards without anyone out with them. Don’t these people watch TV? Have they ever checked the Megan’s law site for their area? Because I have, and I’m not happy. But at eleven, I can’t really chain him to his bed, and outside activities are healthy. Kids belong outside. We’ll talk about organized sports another day, my friends.
The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
View More Thursday Thirteen Participants
Billy Hodges, who served in the U.S. Army and Texas National Guard between 1971-1979, is not only being profiled for his service, but also for what he's done since then. Mr. Hodges runs an organization based in El Campo, Tx called Hunts For Heroes. They also have chapter in South Carolina , Arkansas , Mississippi , and California and what they do is take soldiers who've been wounded in battle on hunting and fishing trips and other outdoor related activities. All free of charge.
Tuesday, March 27
Pippajo has awarded me the Thinking Blogger Award. I could not BE more shocked (thank you, Chandler Bing). May I add flattered? I find blogging to be an entertaining way to keep me out of Target—when the security guards know your kids’ names, it time to think about staying home. I get to use the verbiage that would be wasted on my customers, and vent a little. Okay, a lot. But to hear this from Pippa, who writes about deeply personal stuff, and has moved me to tears more than once, is amazing to me. I agree, that this award means I have a big responsibility to choose 5 blogs that really make me think. The problem is that I generally come to the internet to Unplug. I read blogs that will entertain me. This will require some thought.
Okay, I know how she feels about blogging popularity contests, but I can’t NOT say Irreverent Antisocial Intellectual. All comparisons to Chuck Norris aside, she has a unique perspective on the dregs of society, and the ability to speak with authority on dealing with them. The fact that she shares her knowledge with her readers without cushioning the blow and without apology is a glorious thing to behold. IAI, if it’s any consolation, there are no hearts on this button, and it comes in metallic colors, like your beloved hardware (Okay, I really picture your guns being no-nonsense matte black, but work with me here, you’re already pissed off). Face it lady, when you write the way you do, and with the scope of topics covered, eventually accolades WILL come your way. Shut the fuck up and say thank you—you’ve not been voted prom queen, you’ve been voted ass-kicking queen of the mathletes. Now take it. (oooh, I feel so empowered! Should I be pulling your hair?)
And Now for Something Completely Different…
Pendullum does not post as often as I’d wish, but when she does, they are extraordinary. She is always a well written and satisfying read.
Still Life With Soup Can
Sarah at Soup Can is another one I read for fun; she is a sci-fi fan and a cat lover. Sarah is, as she puts it, living in a post apocalyptic city. Her casual references to life in post Katrina New Orleans are always startling. I’m sorry, but I think we HAVE forgotten what happened, and that folks down there are still waiting for all of the help we promised them. I wish I could say that that will all change with a Democrat in office, but a democrat is still a politician, and bureaucracies still choke the life out of any attempt at change.
My fourth choice is a new blog for me, I was following the MyBlogLog links, and found Charles Sheehan-Miles
His IS a thinking blog, and led me to this nauseating story of soldiers being treated as meat. I swear to Dog, that scene in The Wall, where the kids are being ground up? I’d like to see a You Tube of THAT with a big picture of Dubya turning the crank. What am I talking about?
My final nominee would be Sayre.
What can I say about Sayre? I found her during the fabulous Nikki’s weight loss contest, Operation Lose that Ass. Sayre not only lost that ass, she is still enjoying the karate classes she signed up for during that time, and I find that inspiring as hell. Sayre is someone I would love to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon with. You’d be guaranteed great conversation spanning a wide range of topics.
The directions I was given are these:
1. If, and only if, you get tagged, write a post with links to 5 blogs that make you think, 2. Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme, 3. Optional: Proudly display the 'Thinking Blogger Award' with a link to the post that you wrote
I heart Mert.
My children look like criminals.
Monday, March 26
It's almost done...
Saturday, March 24
Under the Heading: People Suck**
The ex's Gramps recently lost his wife, and is alone at their home. He awoke the other night to a gun in his face and the demand for all of his money. Apparently he has never been in the habit of locking his back patio slider, and they walked right in. Gramps was not harmed, they didn't even take his wallet, just the cash inside. His health and his credit rating will both be fine, and nothing could ever shake Grandpa's faith. (There's a country song by Brooks and Dunn, Believe. It could have been written for this sweet old man. I love that song because it makes me think of him.)
If they had knocked on his door in the morning and said they needed money, Gramps would probably have fed them and emptied his wallet for them all the same.
He will turn 90 in April.
**Profanity deleted because Gramps would not approve.
Thursday, March 22
Thirteen Reasons for Friday the Dorkteenth
1. Maybe you have been in the dork closet for a long time, and this could help you break the news to your family (thanks, MERT!)
2. Hasn’t the whole black cat thing been done to death? Do we need one more news story about the origins of the superstition? Be a part of the NEW Friday the thirteenth tradition.
3. This is not the big commitment of other, WEEKLY memes. How many Friday the thirteenths do we get in a year?
4. Think of it as the blogging equivalent of a one-night-stand. You don’t HAVE to, but wouldn’t it be fun? Just this once?
5. We double-dorkk dare you to post your dorkiest moment.
6. You can totally vote for yourself once a day! Jeez, if you want to vote from multiple ISP’s, you really are a dork, and probably NEED the title.
7. Because we are whores for traffic.
8. Make new bloggy friends, and they’ll already KNOW you’re a dork. So much more comfortable to just get that one out of the way.
9. Read the dorktales of your bloggy idols. If they play.
10. Hot Dork on Dork action! (Okay, I just wanna see if we get a google hit on that one)
11. Because you may spit milk out of your nose, reading about knocking over the voting booth, or locking oneself in the garden shed.
12. You get to diplay the button ala Mert*, our techno Dork Goddess:
*The lawyers would like us to state that the Button ala Mert in no way resembles the Venus Butterfly of LA Law fame. Dear God, I AM a dork.
13. Who are we kidding? It’s all about the glory- Be declared the Prince(ss) of Dorkness!
Whaddya mean you've never heard of it?
Oh, all right, go HERE
The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in the magical linky box provided. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
View More Thursday Thirteen Participants
p.p.s.--send your good thoughts to DK at A Flyover Blog. She's one of my favorite TTers and she could use some lovin'.
Wednesday, March 21
Because Nothing says DIRTY like...
35 years old from Hagerman, Idaho
1st Battalion, 7th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division, I Marine Expeditionary Force, Marine Corps Air Ground Combat Center
September 3, 2004
The Perfect Marine. That's how many describe Capt. Alan B. Rowe. Respected and dedicated to the Corps and still able to be a husband and father.
Rowe, who was on his fourth deployment since joining the Corps in 1985, died with two other Marines, Lance Cpl. Nicholas Wilt, 23, of Tampa, Florida, and 1st Lt. Ronald Winchester, 25, of Rockville Center, N.Y., when a remote-controlled explosive device detonated as they returned to their vehicle after inspecting a bridge in Anbar province, near the Syrian border.
"He was a quiet, humble person and extremely polite," his widow, Dawn, recalled from their early days of dating. "He was a traditional type of gentleman. My mom was surprised to meet such a ... perfect-picture Marine." "He did a great job balancing a pretty intense Marine Corps career with also being a great husband and father. He worked extremely hard to balance it." "He was so dedicated to the Marine Corps. He was really driven and believed in what he did. He was a Marineâ€™s Marine. Tall, blond and fit. Kind of the mental image you think of when you think of the Marine Corps."
A week after his death, Capt. Rowe was posthumously promoted to major. He leaves behind his wife and two children.
These brave men and women sacrifice so much in their lives so that others may enjoy the freedoms we get to enjoy everyday. For that, I am proud to call them Hero.
We Should Not Only Mourn These Men And Women Who Died, We Should Also Thank God That Such People Lived
This post is part of the Wednesday Hero Blogroll. If you would like to participate in honoring the brave men and women who serve this great country, you can find out how by going here.
Award season is over, and no one read the names. But despite the two stupid asshats who booed, last night at the concert? Young Bob came through. Robert Cray has a song, Twenty, that he played last night. There was no long speech about Iraq, nothing anti Bush was said--But the song spoke for the lives lost, and that's what I want. I just don't think people should be allowed to FORGET. Men and wome have thier lives on the line, and then come home to marginalized care and a government that thinks the GI bill is the extent of it's commitment to these people.
Tuesday, March 20
Because the evil accountant won the double or nothing.
Bring to boil in Med. saucepan:
1 Stick Margarine or Buttah. You know I prefer Buttah.
1 Cup Water
1 Cup Flour
Stir til dough comes from sides of pan and well blended.
Beat in 4 eggs, one at a time.
Pour into greased 9x12 pan and Bake at 400 for 30 mins.
Cool, then add filling.
3 sm boxes FRENCH vanilla instant pudding
4 Cups Milk
1 8oz pkg Cream Cheese (room temp)
Beat together till well blended
Spread on Puff Crust.
Slap a tub of Cool Whip on top of THAT
Drizzle with chocolate syrup.
Monday, March 19
I went back to work today.
the scandal of the starving baby
Originally uploaded by Djuliet.
Had a customer complain to my manager about my bad attitude before I even got my first cup of coffee.
Pay yer freaking BILL, and the late notices will stop. It's a pretty straightforward system.
Silly me, I forgot that diplomacy is more important than truth. A glorious week of saying the FIRST thing that popped into my head was obviously NOT conducive to dealing with the great unwashed.
Sunday, March 18
Today is the last day of my vacation.
the scandal of the starving baby
Originally uploaded by Djuliet.
My house is maaaaaaarvelous. No, really, it's like a whole new house. But I spent a week away from work and went nowhere. I think I only left my house three times. Little O didn't go to daycare, and actually, I kept Big O home from school one day (gasp!).
It was....lovely. I was terrible at my stint as a stay at home mom. I was so lonely and isolated that I just gained four thousand pounds and became a raving bitch. (At least according to the ex.) This was fun. Even with the cleaning, or maybe...because of the cleaning?
I'm not sure I'm ready to go THAT far, but it was a week well spent. Now I just want another one to enjoy it, and actually get some reading time in.
Hello...is this thing on?
Anyone volunteering to pay all of my bills so I can read and blog at my leisure?
Oh well, back to the garbage mines.
Sucktastik Sunday Quizzez
|You Are Corona|
You don't drink for the love of beer. You drink to get drunk.
You prefer a very light, very smooth beer. A beer that's hardly a beer at all.
And while you make not like the taste of beer, you like the feeling of being drunk.
You drink early and often. Sometimes with friends. Sometimes alone. All the party needs is you!
There was a quiz on Quizzilla, Are you a Mermaid? It was written by flesheatingmerperson. yeah, it sort of went downhill from there. I ended up being a mermaid, but the whole thing was sort of off-putting and soooo NOT what I had hoped for.
Friday, March 16
Another hurry hurry quick plea...
Originally uploaded by IntoTheLens
My brother and his firefighters shave their heads for St Baldrick's, a charity for kids with cancer...
His boys are participating for the third year, I think.
It works based upon sponsorship, and if you need a write off, or just want to thrill two little boys, or one big boy, go Here and make a donation.
Much better investment than green beer.
Grrr...okay you have to search under participant last name Fikes. My direct link won't work.
Bananas? You think there are any italians shaving their heads this year?
Thursday, March 15
Wednesday, March 14
Thursday 13-Vacation Sucks Haikus
Inspired by my bloggy hero, Casual Slack
Called the city guy
please sir can I have some more
Axe falls on Friday
Co-worker bite me
No one called about my house
Thanks for the support
Clean Cleaner Cleanest
I hate the smell of pine sol
Want to go to work
Fingernails are gone
fumes creeping into my brain
oooh, pretty colors
scrub, scrub, scrub a dub dub, dub
Mr Clean, suck this
my son is grounded
much like the food in his rug
cleaned his room, my ass
i am so tired
he is sleeping, why not me?
coffee is my friend
quit blogging and clean
how can you be so stupid
they'll be here Friday
Aw, look at the snaps!
Little O with my mom-oh, crap
Must invite in-laws
"Come to dinner and judge me"
Good thing I like them
Wait, didn't I just
Empty this stupid vacuum?
Love my bagless vac.
must buy more coffee
and some steak ASAP
on my knees already
Last Haiku, thank you
back to the wretched cleaning
what a vacation
The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I have a magical linky box that is, apparently, functional again. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
View More Thursday Thirteen Participants
I know I've said it before, but Greg Rucka writes a great story. I can never remember which one comes first--I think it's Keeper, the second one was Finder, and I always thought they should be reversed. The hero is a bodyguard named Atticus Kodiak. Rucka writes graphic novels, too, but if you read things like Shooter, I highly recommend Keeper. Ooooh, and Sleeping Dogs by Thomas Perry. It's hard to find the first one, Butcher's Boy (unless they are re-printing it by now), but Sleeping Dogs is another one of those books.
I remember books...lovely grey pages, cracking the spine, mmmmm...
I can have books again when my house is cleaner. Please note that I did not say clean. My house is never clean. I AM the crazy old lady with forty years worth of crap piled up. I was on Oprah recently. Okay, not ME, but my psychic twin (no, not CRSE, I apparently have another). Except that SHE works at a container store, and makes a living organizing other people. I'm not quite THAT hypocritical(?). Whatever that is...No, I have my papers at work in piles, and my house is the same. But higher. And with random crap thrown in. I have achieved in thirty-six years what it took my grandmother sixty-three years to do.
It's our first rental inspection tomorrow. Something new for our fair city, and my part of town is in the first wave. My co-worker is convinced that someone called and complained about me, and that is why I have been chosen. Since I saw tags on several other rental units in my neighborhood, I don't think that it's for that. We are pest free and pet free, so I am not sweating that so much, but it lurks in the back of my mind. It's the clothes that are killing me. I have more clothes in this house than we will ever need. I need to start throwing two away for each new item that I bring into the house.
Gah. What a way to spend a vacation. CLEANING. ugh.
Tuesday, March 13
To my more dignified bloggy compadres?
I wanna have a little contest over at Dorkbloggers. I want you to confess your dorkiest moment on Friday, April thirteenth. I'll set up a linky box on Dorkbloggers, and if you put a link to Dorkbloggers, or one of the specially manufactured buttons (are you reading this, Mert?) on your blog, you'll be entered to win...uh, something. Probably an amazon giftcard, because nothing beats filthy lucre, eh?
We'll have a poll to take votes on the winner, and you can cruise other people's entries via the linky box, and if you don't have a blog you can leave your story in my comments and I'll re-post it for you, and, and, can you think of anything else?
OOOOh! For those of you who had to stop and think of the last time you did something dorky, we'll make up a grown-up button. For those of you who had to stop and think of WHICH dorky moment to use, we'll have some more of that cartoon goodness you've come to expect from dorkbloggers.
I realize that I am pimping hard for my little endeavor, but I hope that some of you guys who don't normally dorkblog will play.
I haven't posted it over at Dorkbloggers yet because I am still pondering my options, here--I am totally open to suggestions, hints, and stern lectures about whoring myself out for a little traffic.
But c'mon. You know you want to play, baby.
Monday, March 12
Originally uploaded by darweidu.
The Honey isn't feeling good today, and I kind of blew off making dinner for him last night, so he's starving. I stopped at the store and got his favorite breakfast food.
Looking on Flickr, there are lots of dry looking sausages that look pretty good. But the chorizo I find in the markets here in CA is a ground type thing, loose--no casing.
It looks like something I'd scrape off of my shoe and then tie my shoe to the bumper in hopes of keeping the smell out of the car. Once you heat it up, your dog has the runs. It smells wonderful, but the preferred way to eat it, at least for the honey, is with scrambled eggs. He likes the chorizo scrambled into the eggs so it's one big slop. This stuff is sooooo greasy and soaks up ten eggs like nothing. This is why Chorizo is a treat for him, because it's such a huge quantity by the time it's done. He'll be eating it for the next few days, because after reading the ingredients, I can't say that I'll be touching it. I don't do lymph. We'll just rank it right up there with menudo.
Sunday, March 11
|Your Brain is Blue|
Of all the brain types, yours is the most mellow.
You tend to be in a meditative state most of the time. You don't try to think away your troubles.
Your thoughts are realistic, fresh, and honest. You truly see things as how they are.
You tend to spend a lot of time thinking about your friends, your surroundings, and your life.
I'm a Porsche 911!
You have a classic style, but you're up-to-date with the latest technology. You're ambitious, competitive, and you love to win. Performance, precision, and prestige - you're one of the elite,and you know it.
Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.
Yeah, Baby! Got this one from Sayre,and Vroom Vroom, I can live with it. My dad has had a hubcap from his last Porsche hanging in a place of honor in every house my parents have had. It's older than me. He had two, I think, before my mom convinced him that it wasn't going to fly with Two kids, and it was time for another fine piece of German engineering, the Volkswagon.
Saturday, March 10
surfing the blogrolls...
Some People are like slinkies
Not really good for anything
But they still bring a smile to your face
When you push them down a flight of stairs
To answer Stewart:
It is the hardest thing about being a modern parent. I try to ensure that he isn't over-exposed, but he's also a curious kid, and there is a lot out there!
I DO try to monitor which video games we bring into the house. When Big O was in the second grade, we took he and a buddy somewhere in my car. The longer I listened, the more appalled I became. Because this sweet cheeked, velvet painting-eyed adorable child in my backseat was spouting absolute garbage from his newest video game, one of the early versions of Grand Theft Auto. gaaaaaah. I was biting my tongue and forming the discussion for later, when my own sweet boy, missing teeth and all, said "really? you get extra points for killing policemen? hah-that's funny!" At which point I pulled the car over and probably scared the other little boy to death explaining how and why that was so NOT funny.
In spite of that lovely vignette, I don't forbid Big O from going over to houses where those games are played, because it IS the modern world we live in. But he knows my feelings on the issue, and knows that those games won't be coming home. (Ask me how bitter I am that Jak & Daxter changed from an adventure game to a cartoon shoot-em-up. No, don't -that would be a whole 'nother post.)
Big O is dying to play games online, and is still forbidden. He hasn't really expressed an interest in a My Space page, thank dog. Is that more of a girl thing? My other attempt at monitoring what he's exposed to is that we don't have cable. Saturday morning is still golden for my kid because that is his weekly dose of cartoons. I don't want to give the impression that he's living in a purity bubble or anything--his father buys him the occasional crap game and takes him to movies that I don't approve of. In a way, I think that's a dad's role, and especially in the case of a divorce, kind of par for the course. I am fortunate that I have a pretty good relationship with his dad still, so when he called me to ask if the 300 might be too much, I could just say "Ya think?" and they chose a different movie. You have to pick your battles.
He doesn't watch medical gore, and the sci-fi violence of Supernatural and Smallville are his favorites right now. I can't keep him cut off from everything, and I'm not sure it would be fair to make him a total social pariah, unable to discuss anything on television except Ugly Betty. He is a big Simpsons fan, and I really debated that, but again, can't keep him away from everything, especially when our local Fox affiliate plays two episodes a day, before I am home from work.
I just want to make sure that I give him age appropriate but still challenging stuff. He has the sense of humor that is sooo ready for Adams, but I got him watching the holy grail not so long ago, and I had forgotten the virgins and the spankings. Not incredibly raunchy by today's standards, but I had forgotten all about it. He's eleven. There is far worse on MTV, I guess. There's such a short window on being a kid anymore, though.
There you have it.
Tuesday, March 6
Help! Was there sex in Hitchhikers Guide? I want something new for my eleven year old, and I don't remember any, but it has been oh holy mother of dog twenty years since I read them. If he picks up Captain Underpants one more time, I may burn them all. He has also taken to reading My Side of the Mountain over and over again--this, I totally get. He can read Harry Potter with no real problems, and I think he would love Adams.
But is there sex? My dad handed me 1984 when I was in the fourth grade, and man, just because I COULD read it doesn't mean I was ready for it. I'd like to avoid doing that to Big O.
Oh, it's perfect.
I may cry.
I am really soooo geeked out.
Sunday, March 4
er, um, oh gawd.
A few more clicks, and where do I find myself? At someone's SecondLife blog. Now I admit that I am generally pretty far behind the trends anymore, because, well, my REAL life gets in the way. I haven't been blogging for a full year, yet, and I had to ask my sixteen year old niece to show me how to text on my cell phone--which I promptly forgot. I am by no means up on the new things. I am intrigued by Sarah at Still Life with Soup Can's forays into Oblivion.
But this other lady has started a blog for the "photos" of her modelling jobs for her SecondLife persona.
Am I more forgiving of Sarah because it's sci-fi fantasy themed, so I GET it more? Because Sarah doesn't strike me as odd at all, but this lady completely freaked me out. Maybe it's that Sarah writes about real life, and the other blog was made up almost solely of this lady's modelling jobs? I don't know. I am embarrassed FOR her.
Maybe I am just hopelessly un-cool.
You forget so many of the little things...
I told Little O that I love her bunches.
She one-upped me and told me that she loves me bunches of much.
You think you won't ever forget the funny things that they say.
But they fade, and just tickle your conscious brain as you watch them play vidoe games or patiently fly kites with their little sister. It kills me that I did not document more of Big O's amazing thought processes when he was her age. He was such a funny kid. I feel almost guilty documenting Little O without a corresponding Big O memory.
I could go for a little Italy right about now!
A reddish glare
Originally uploaded by Hobo pd.
Okay, before we get to the meat of this fully sponsored post, can you believe this photo? I was looking through Flickr for something to go with an Italian post, and every one of this man's pictures was amazing.
A Pay Per Post opportunity leapt from the screen at me today. Post something about Italy. Now Italy is one of the countries that I did NOT get to see when I went to Europe. I want to go. Isn't that like saying that the sky is blue, though? Who DOESN'T want to go to Italy? SO much of Western history centers around Italy, and it's such a rich, dense, multi-layered explosion of historical flavors... You like it bloody? Italy's got it. How about religion--um, helloooo, vatican, anyone? Politics, Lust, Fashion, Romance. Italy pretty much embodies each of the seven deadly sins and really, every modern vice. But it's still beautiful.
I admit that I love happy endings, but Under the Tuscan Sun? Great movie. Didn't you instantly want to run away from all of your problems and find a charming Italian villa to pour your energy into? The sponsor of this post has Italian properties for sale. I personally am NOT George Clooney, with the money to spend on a Villa on Lake Como, but we have to dream, right? I set up services for people from the Bay area, who are buying weekend houses in Lathrop, CA. I realize that you all have no idea what this means, but trust me, the thought of spending a half a million dollars to buy into a cramped housing tract, in the middle of a muddy flood plain, it boggles the mind. I just want to scream at them all. If my half a million bucks bought me a cobwebby apartment above a restaurant in an Italian village, I would sooo spend it on the tiny apartment rather than the McMansion.
I apologize again for restating this, but this has been a sponsored post. I'm still a little bitter that PPP refused to pay me for the Dubai post, because they felt that I was not clear about the sponsorship. I do not want their disclosure policy button on my blog. I think that I make it pretty clear when it is a sponsored post, and I don't take a bazillion of these opportunities. That makes two posts that I did not get paid for. grrr... (okay one was due to my own over-enthusiastic dorkiness, but c'mon!)
Now they say the opportunity has closed, but it is still listed. Are they just messin' with my head, now? You know what? I'd still like to go to Italy--this post will stand as a little freee love to the folks who sponsored it. I don't write them if I don't mean them. That's why there are so few.
Friday, March 2
Random slash dot madness
-crazy stuff on PBS, bad early seventies musical special. I cannot stand Jethro Tull, and watching them perform does not improve the experience. By the same token, I have to give props to the band geek that parlayed his flute playing into an actual position of power in a successful rock band. Still creepy as hell, and creepier to watch, but jeez, talk about living a dream. The rock flute. creepy.
-I laugh and cannot believe that the rest of the country thinks all californians surf and drive convertibles to the beach, but I do the same thing. Everytime I hear about wild weather, I fret for Sayre in Florida, or Kathleen in Texas, and I worried about how CRSE was getting to AZ, and if they were dealing with shit weather along the way. Imagine my horror to read that IAI DID get the tornado experience. If Ms. Chuck admits to wild eyed anxiety, it had to be mother humming terrifying. I'm glad everyone is okay.
-But I'm sending house and health vibes to you, Sayre--feel better and let's think of a grand send off for your last weekend with the college kids--get the neighbors in on it and blast wayne newton or something equally torturous to college aged kids. Are they too old for the super high frequency that only kids can hear? If they are, I'll bet their dates aren't. Or there's a PBS special that's creepy as hell, with Jethro Tull --you probably know the one...
-Little O has become obsessed with her western shirt. I told her she was a Rodeo Queen and let her wear her tiara to the laser tag party on Sunday. Tonight she conned me into buying her an aqua blue cowgirl hat with it's own tiara attatched. Now she really IS a rodeo queen.
Customers laugh and ask me if the trash is a dangerous business. In my head, I generally think that while trash isn't dangerous, our part of town IS, and oh, look, there go your rims in that shopping cart.
What I usually SAY is that it's kind of like the spit shield at the salad bar--and through the wonders of plexiglass, they can usually, literlally, see my point. ugh.
Yesterday I actually had a man tap on the plexiglass and tell me to try and keep up.
I thought I was going to go straight through the window. Un-freaking-believable. One of us wasn't getting it, but it sure as hell wasn't me.
Helpful hint? When demanding extra help from a Customer Service Rep? Try not to piss them off.
wow. this has been a remarkably restrained post about yet another booger-eating-moron.