I went into DC to see U23D last night at the Natural History Museum. It was amazing. Absolutely amazing. While I enjoy the music of U2, I would not say that I'm a huge fan. This show is insanely good though, and I would highly recommend anyone and everyone to go see it. Plus, it's in 3D! How cool is that!
Tiff's been to a real-life U2 concert, which she says was the greatest show she's ever been to. For someone with my limited concert-going experience to say that would be meaningless, but Tiff has seen them all... The Rolling Stones, Fleetwood Mac, Cinderella and Poison, and I have to include Slash. Anyways, she also says the movie experience, while nowhere near the same, is still nothing short of genius.
After the show, we were debating if any other band could pull it off. I don't think any other band is good enough to have an entire movie of their concert for the movie going experience, except of course, Hannah Montana. Maybe I'm just a bit U2 intoxicated right now, but every song they have is so meaningful to so many people and so powerful in every way, shape, and form that their concert is unrivaled. The crowd can carry the lyrics throughout the entire show, not just one or two songs and without sounding all garbled together, but then Bono sings and you just feel it. It's hard to explain. Go see the movie.
Another great part is that it's in 3D. This is the first time since I was a wee little lad that I got to wear 3D glasses for something. While at first it was a little strange, it made for a completely different experience, and I definitely will be checking out some more 3D shows in the future. It's a couple extra bucks plus the cost of getting into the city, but it makes for more of an experience and is worth every penny.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Friday, February 22, 2008
Idolizing Nobodies
A few weeks ago, I mentioned that I would not be watching American Idol this year. Well, I have a confession to make. I've watched it the past two weeks. It's a sad, sad truth, but they got me when I heard that the contestants could play instruments. Plus, it was the Hollywood week which might be my favorite part of the show.
I do have a lot of least favorite parts of the show. I hate the backstories of the people. I hate the banter between the judges and between Ryan Seacrest and the judges. More than that banter I hate the banter between the contestants and the judges, and I wish they had rule that the contestants couldn't talk when they're being judged. I hate half the contestants and of the half I do like, I actually secretly hate half of them. I hate the songs they make them sing and I wish they could sing whatever they wanted. At this point, all the songs that they sing have been sung already. I hate how they torment the contestants and draw out the show for no apparent reason. I basically hate the show.
Yet... I still watch it. I'm a sad, sad man. I should make a list of good things about the show. Hollywood week, which is where the final audition takes place, but that's already done. There's usually one, maybe two, songs every show that are good, really good. Let's see... I like singing in the shower afterwards. That's about it. Oh, I, unfortunately, usually like the ensemble things they do, even though they're usually the worst performances of all; I just like hearing the different voices all together.
Last year's group sucked, so I had said no more this year. Plus, Tiff and I were watching Biggest Loser, which comes on at the same time, and I was getting into it, but then they changed the rules on that so I got mad and cut it out of my list of shows.
Anyways, I do have my favorites. But once they're out, I'm giving up on American Idol, maybe even before then. The thing is though, what else is on? Another CSI? I really need a television sacrifice. Oh! Dexter's on CBS now... it's the first season, everyone should watch it. At least, everyone older than 18 with a sound mind and twisted sense of humor.
I do have a lot of least favorite parts of the show. I hate the backstories of the people. I hate the banter between the judges and between Ryan Seacrest and the judges. More than that banter I hate the banter between the contestants and the judges, and I wish they had rule that the contestants couldn't talk when they're being judged. I hate half the contestants and of the half I do like, I actually secretly hate half of them. I hate the songs they make them sing and I wish they could sing whatever they wanted. At this point, all the songs that they sing have been sung already. I hate how they torment the contestants and draw out the show for no apparent reason. I basically hate the show.
Yet... I still watch it. I'm a sad, sad man. I should make a list of good things about the show. Hollywood week, which is where the final audition takes place, but that's already done. There's usually one, maybe two, songs every show that are good, really good. Let's see... I like singing in the shower afterwards. That's about it. Oh, I, unfortunately, usually like the ensemble things they do, even though they're usually the worst performances of all; I just like hearing the different voices all together.
Last year's group sucked, so I had said no more this year. Plus, Tiff and I were watching Biggest Loser, which comes on at the same time, and I was getting into it, but then they changed the rules on that so I got mad and cut it out of my list of shows.
Anyways, I do have my favorites. But once they're out, I'm giving up on American Idol, maybe even before then. The thing is though, what else is on? Another CSI? I really need a television sacrifice. Oh! Dexter's on CBS now... it's the first season, everyone should watch it. At least, everyone older than 18 with a sound mind and twisted sense of humor.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
More Local News
I live in Manassas, VA. Manassas is building a giant parking garage right off of main street. 
It's a much needed addition to the city, as it has an underused commuter train station and an overused highway exit. The crazy part is though that it's five stories tall. All the buildings in Old Town Manassas are three stories by my count. Maybe I'm just adding them up wrong. Let's hope it goes underground.
I drive past this parking structure construction everyday, so it kinda tickled my noggin and I went looking to learn more about it. So I read the local paper, which was a little interesting, and found a local blog, which is interesting for all the wrong reasons.
The blog is written by a City Councilman, and while it's not a daily read, it's pretty impressive how well he keeps up with it, writing about both political stuff and city stuff. The strange part is, especially coming from an elected official, nowhere on the thing does it say who he is. There is no name. There is no title. I had to read through quite a few posts just to learn he is, in fact, a City Councilman and no, he is not running for Mayor.
Anyways, I'm adding this mystery man's blog to my exclusive list of links, replacing, the much loved but under-appreciated, Mustaches of the Nineteenth Century. If you keep up with it, maybe you can see the completed Manassas Skyline come June of 2008, in all it's parking garage splendor.
It's a much needed addition to the city, as it has an underused commuter train station and an overused highway exit. The crazy part is though that it's five stories tall. All the buildings in Old Town Manassas are three stories by my count. Maybe I'm just adding them up wrong. Let's hope it goes underground.I drive past this parking structure construction everyday, so it kinda tickled my noggin and I went looking to learn more about it. So I read the local paper, which was a little interesting, and found a local blog, which is interesting for all the wrong reasons.
The blog is written by a City Councilman, and while it's not a daily read, it's pretty impressive how well he keeps up with it, writing about both political stuff and city stuff. The strange part is, especially coming from an elected official, nowhere on the thing does it say who he is. There is no name. There is no title. I had to read through quite a few posts just to learn he is, in fact, a City Councilman and no, he is not running for Mayor.
Anyways, I'm adding this mystery man's blog to my exclusive list of links, replacing, the much loved but under-appreciated, Mustaches of the Nineteenth Century. If you keep up with it, maybe you can see the completed Manassas Skyline come June of 2008, in all it's parking garage splendor.
Middle School Banking
Going against my usual grain here... This year marks my 10 year high school graduation. I could say I'm getting old, but to be honest, the further away I get from some of those memories the better. Now, next year being ten years since I started college... that's a depressing thought.
I bring it up just to say that it's been awhile since I was in school, let alone middle school, and while I'm sure there have been a lot of necessary and beneficial changes to the schooling environment, I was surprised when I found this in my local paper under the "winners" section:
"Synergy One Federal Credit Union and Gainesville Middle School, which will jointly sponsor a new banking branch at the school with the official opening at 1 p.m. on Tuesday. This is the second middle school branch Synergy One has opened in the last two years and the first in the Gainesville area."
Winner! If I try really hard I could see some reasoning behind putting a bank in a middle school... help teach the kids about the importance of savings or something, but it seems like a pretty big stretch to me. Plus, from the bank's perspective's, who's it attracting? Middle schoolers? New teachers? I'm guessing old teachers already have a bank, as well as parents of middle schoolers. It just doesn't seem to make any sense.
But hey, I don't know much about schools these days, maybe it's all the rage. Maybe it's hip. Maybe it's happening.
I bring it up just to say that it's been awhile since I was in school, let alone middle school, and while I'm sure there have been a lot of necessary and beneficial changes to the schooling environment, I was surprised when I found this in my local paper under the "winners" section:
"Synergy One Federal Credit Union and Gainesville Middle School, which will jointly sponsor a new banking branch at the school with the official opening at 1 p.m. on Tuesday. This is the second middle school branch Synergy One has opened in the last two years and the first in the Gainesville area."
Winner! If I try really hard I could see some reasoning behind putting a bank in a middle school... help teach the kids about the importance of savings or something, but it seems like a pretty big stretch to me. Plus, from the bank's perspective's, who's it attracting? Middle schoolers? New teachers? I'm guessing old teachers already have a bank, as well as parents of middle schoolers. It just doesn't seem to make any sense.
But hey, I don't know much about schools these days, maybe it's all the rage. Maybe it's hip. Maybe it's happening.
Friday, February 15, 2008
My Valentine's Feast
Last year, Tiffany unleashed the greatest Valentine's of all time. This year the onus was on me to, as Bon Jovi says, make a memory. While I stepped up to the plate, ready for the challenge, my home run swing at making the best Valentine's ever fell far short. I could write a thousand li-i-i-i-ines, about what went wrong, but the bottom line is cooking easy is easy, cooking hard is not easy.
With the savings challenge in mind, I vowed to cook something myself for my beautiful wife, who cooks for me almost all the time. Normally, we would be heading to a fancier restaurant than normal and maybe order a bottle of wine. Not going out to eat has been a successful part of our sacrifice, with some new and strange meals. Wednesday night Tiff threw all these odds and ends into the crockpot, the main ingredient being lentils. Both of us looked at it with sour faces as we were dishing it out, but by golly, it was good. It was really good.
So I knew we weren't going anywhere, so I had to make something nice. Tiff likes shrimp and shrimp sounds nice and expensive to me, so I set out to cook shrimp for Tiffany on Valentine's. I think this was my first mistake as I've never cooked shrimp, or any other type of seafood before and has no idea how to go about it. I searched the internet where I found a recipe that looked a little complicated but interesting enough to try.
The morning of I went to the store for ingredients. I bought shrimp, mozzarella cheese, roasted red peppers, pasta, sauce, ice cream, strawberries, and flowers. The recipe also called for prosciutto and pano bread crumbs. In my head, honey baked ham and a loaf of bread would make suitable substitutes. Hindsight is 20/20.
Tiff was determined to snoop when I got home and I ended up ruining, freely and willingly, the surprise of what was for dinner. She questioned it and had a good chuckle at my expense before I ever got started cooking. This kind of irritated me as I was both excited and mainly nervous about my attempts at cooking something new.
Long story short, once I started cooking I new I was in over my head and immediately scrapped my Shrimp Nicholas recipe of wrapped butterflied shrimp, choosing instead to make a mish-mash of flavors to cook the shrimp in. Then I just threw it romanticly over basic pasta, with essentially a jar of red pasta sauce. Mmmm.
Tiff, always the good sport, said she liked it, but she pushed the second half to the side in favor of a salad, and now, hours after the fact, all I can taste is garlic. At least, the flowers look good,
but I think I still have a few years of Valentine's Days to catch up with her.
And tonight, I think both of us are very much looking forward to some leftover lentil soup. Happy Valentine's Day.
With the savings challenge in mind, I vowed to cook something myself for my beautiful wife, who cooks for me almost all the time. Normally, we would be heading to a fancier restaurant than normal and maybe order a bottle of wine. Not going out to eat has been a successful part of our sacrifice, with some new and strange meals. Wednesday night Tiff threw all these odds and ends into the crockpot, the main ingredient being lentils. Both of us looked at it with sour faces as we were dishing it out, but by golly, it was good. It was really good.
So I knew we weren't going anywhere, so I had to make something nice. Tiff likes shrimp and shrimp sounds nice and expensive to me, so I set out to cook shrimp for Tiffany on Valentine's. I think this was my first mistake as I've never cooked shrimp, or any other type of seafood before and has no idea how to go about it. I searched the internet where I found a recipe that looked a little complicated but interesting enough to try.
The morning of I went to the store for ingredients. I bought shrimp, mozzarella cheese, roasted red peppers, pasta, sauce, ice cream, strawberries, and flowers. The recipe also called for prosciutto and pano bread crumbs. In my head, honey baked ham and a loaf of bread would make suitable substitutes. Hindsight is 20/20.
Tiff was determined to snoop when I got home and I ended up ruining, freely and willingly, the surprise of what was for dinner. She questioned it and had a good chuckle at my expense before I ever got started cooking. This kind of irritated me as I was both excited and mainly nervous about my attempts at cooking something new.
Long story short, once I started cooking I new I was in over my head and immediately scrapped my Shrimp Nicholas recipe of wrapped butterflied shrimp, choosing instead to make a mish-mash of flavors to cook the shrimp in. Then I just threw it romanticly over basic pasta, with essentially a jar of red pasta sauce. Mmmm.
Tiff, always the good sport, said she liked it, but she pushed the second half to the side in favor of a salad, and now, hours after the fact, all I can taste is garlic. At least, the flowers look good,
but I think I still have a few years of Valentine's Days to catch up with her.And tonight, I think both of us are very much looking forward to some leftover lentil soup. Happy Valentine's Day.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Another Steroids Story
I'm down to two pills of steroids a day, which means I only have four and a half more weeks to go! At the allergist that awful day, Tiff and I were in the waiting room waiting to make sure my meds were working. The receptionist started up a small conversation with Tiff.
Receptionist: They put me on a long course of steroids once.
Tiffany: Oh yeah?
R: Yeah, it really gives you quite the appetite.
T: Oh?
R: Yeah, I remember being in the store and seeing packaged liver and thinking I had to eat it, right there. I've never liked liver before, but I wanted to eat it raw, right off the shelf.
T: Eww.
R: Yeah, watch out. He'll be hungry... and extremely irritable.
T: Well then, I better shut up and start cooking.
I love my wife. While I have yet to come across liver or any inkling of a liver craving, I have been eating like a madman. It's strange too. I'll eat until my belly is full - I'll be very aware that my belly is full - and still, I'm searching the kitchen for more food. I'm full but very hungry at the same time. Part of me just thinks this is all in my head and I eat constantly because I've finally been given a free pass to do so.
My liver story is actually much less disturbing.
Bananas are a food that I don't ever remember enjoying. When Tiff put four pounds of them in the cart last week at CostCo, I only accepted it after learning the four pounds cost $1.29. A couple days later, I was looking through the dusty parts of our cupboards in search of food, when like a beacon from across the room all those beautiful bananas caught my eye. I struggled a bit getting the first one open as it was still a bit green, but good god was it good.
Tiff has since then cut me back to one banana at a time. There are three left... make that two.
Receptionist: They put me on a long course of steroids once.
Tiffany: Oh yeah?
R: Yeah, it really gives you quite the appetite.
T: Oh?
R: Yeah, I remember being in the store and seeing packaged liver and thinking I had to eat it, right there. I've never liked liver before, but I wanted to eat it raw, right off the shelf.
T: Eww.
R: Yeah, watch out. He'll be hungry... and extremely irritable.
T: Well then, I better shut up and start cooking.
I love my wife. While I have yet to come across liver or any inkling of a liver craving, I have been eating like a madman. It's strange too. I'll eat until my belly is full - I'll be very aware that my belly is full - and still, I'm searching the kitchen for more food. I'm full but very hungry at the same time. Part of me just thinks this is all in my head and I eat constantly because I've finally been given a free pass to do so.
My liver story is actually much less disturbing.
Bananas are a food that I don't ever remember enjoying. When Tiff put four pounds of them in the cart last week at CostCo, I only accepted it after learning the four pounds cost $1.29. A couple days later, I was looking through the dusty parts of our cupboards in search of food, when like a beacon from across the room all those beautiful bananas caught my eye. I struggled a bit getting the first one open as it was still a bit green, but good god was it good.Tiff has since then cut me back to one banana at a time. There are three left... make that two.
Thursday, February 07, 2008
The Medicinal Moon
My list of places I would like to go has slowed it's growth considerably recently. It was easy for a long time to find new and interesting places to go. I would either stumble upon a cool picture or hear of something interesting and hope that Wikipedia has a picture of it.
Everything changed when, just before Christmas, I heard of the Interstellar Light Collector.
It captures the power of lunar light and focuses it at you in some sort of weird therapeutic procedure. It was the first place on my list that was less "wouldn't it be cool if..." and more "I need to do this before I die." And well, since then nowhere seems as cool.
Before you label me a freak, I freely admit that I'm open to some of the eccentrics of alternative medicine. Perhaps it's a holistic approach, but that sounds too Birkenstock. I would, however, love to try acupuncture and maybe a hot stone massage to unblock my chi, or whatever. Just last month, I bought a jar of lavender scent with sticks sticking fashionably out of it, because I heard it might help me sleep. It's right next to my bed.
My sister, hi, Becky!, gave me the idea. She heard about it from the Worst-Case Scenario Survival Handbook game. The verdict is still out as to how effective it is.
But this giant moonlight mirror is so different than anything I thought reasonable that it has captured my imagination and six weeks after learning of it, I'm still thinking about it. Check out the testimonials. Just about everyone says something along the lines of feeling relaxed, energized and all-over good, but then there are these lines, "toothache gone within hours," "my appendix scar faded as well as some other old scars" by morning, "arthritis and tinnitus are greatly reduced," and - hold the phone - "after a 3rd moonlight experience, my asthma seems to be gone." Moonlight it seems works miracles. If only moonlighting worked the same way, as I work overnights.
If anything, I think it's definitely worth seeing what happens under the intense moonlight. I predict that it will prevent the brain tumor that will surely kill me in my old age, thus I will live forever. Then maybe I'll get to actually visit the other places on my list of places that I want to go.
Everything changed when, just before Christmas, I heard of the Interstellar Light Collector.
It captures the power of lunar light and focuses it at you in some sort of weird therapeutic procedure. It was the first place on my list that was less "wouldn't it be cool if..." and more "I need to do this before I die." And well, since then nowhere seems as cool.Before you label me a freak, I freely admit that I'm open to some of the eccentrics of alternative medicine. Perhaps it's a holistic approach, but that sounds too Birkenstock. I would, however, love to try acupuncture and maybe a hot stone massage to unblock my chi, or whatever. Just last month, I bought a jar of lavender scent with sticks sticking fashionably out of it, because I heard it might help me sleep. It's right next to my bed.
My sister, hi, Becky!, gave me the idea. She heard about it from the Worst-Case Scenario Survival Handbook game. The verdict is still out as to how effective it is.But this giant moonlight mirror is so different than anything I thought reasonable that it has captured my imagination and six weeks after learning of it, I'm still thinking about it. Check out the testimonials. Just about everyone says something along the lines of feeling relaxed, energized and all-over good, but then there are these lines, "toothache gone within hours," "my appendix scar faded as well as some other old scars" by morning, "arthritis and tinnitus are greatly reduced," and - hold the phone - "after a 3rd moonlight experience, my asthma seems to be gone." Moonlight it seems works miracles. If only moonlighting worked the same way, as I work overnights.
If anything, I think it's definitely worth seeing what happens under the intense moonlight. I predict that it will prevent the brain tumor that will surely kill me in my old age, thus I will live forever. Then maybe I'll get to actually visit the other places on my list of places that I want to go.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Upgrades
Something strange has been happening to me lately. I have been trying to improve things, recently, things I'm not suppose to improve. I can't seem to stop myself.
Let me back up and make clear that I have not taken any proactive steps to improve anything... well, maybe myself, but that's another blog entirely. I'm more of an idea guy. What happens is, I'll be doing something, going about life like it ain't no thing, when right in the middle of the most common, mundane thing I'll have a thought that I can't help but share with the world.
For example, "They should put the parking lot under the Wal-Mart!" I had this thought walking across the Wal-Mart parking lot from my car. I realize that it would never happen, that Wal-Mart has it's own savings challenge, and it would never fork out the extra money to build it's store over the parking lot, but I do think it would make a great improvement... for all stores. It would be like a suburban Big Dig Revolution! There would be so much more space, and I wouldn't have to see an empty parking lot of street lights glowing in my window at night.
Most of the time, my improvements aren't quite so profound. TV commercials are like cannon-fodder to my always-upgrading mind. "What the should have done is ended with the dancing dog." The sad underbelly here is that I'm actually paying close enough attention to critique.
But critique is a harsh word, and I don't think I'm complaining about any of these things that I'm improving. It's more that I'm genuinely hoping to improve them. It's not the flaw that I see, it's the improvement. And aren't we suppose to be trying to improve the world, or at least the world around us. Maybe one of my ideas will catch on and I'll leave my footprint on mankind!
I've had so many of these random improvement thoughts, matched by my obvious delusions of grandeur, that I thought about extending my blog empire with John Duffy's Upgrades, but after some thought, I was afraid it would sound too whiny and ultimately decided that it would not be an improvement to anybody's life... namely mine.
Let me back up and make clear that I have not taken any proactive steps to improve anything... well, maybe myself, but that's another blog entirely. I'm more of an idea guy. What happens is, I'll be doing something, going about life like it ain't no thing, when right in the middle of the most common, mundane thing I'll have a thought that I can't help but share with the world.
For example, "They should put the parking lot under the Wal-Mart!" I had this thought walking across the Wal-Mart parking lot from my car. I realize that it would never happen, that Wal-Mart has it's own savings challenge, and it would never fork out the extra money to build it's store over the parking lot, but I do think it would make a great improvement... for all stores. It would be like a suburban Big Dig Revolution! There would be so much more space, and I wouldn't have to see an empty parking lot of street lights glowing in my window at night.
Most of the time, my improvements aren't quite so profound. TV commercials are like cannon-fodder to my always-upgrading mind. "What the should have done is ended with the dancing dog." The sad underbelly here is that I'm actually paying close enough attention to critique.
But critique is a harsh word, and I don't think I'm complaining about any of these things that I'm improving. It's more that I'm genuinely hoping to improve them. It's not the flaw that I see, it's the improvement. And aren't we suppose to be trying to improve the world, or at least the world around us. Maybe one of my ideas will catch on and I'll leave my footprint on mankind!
I've had so many of these random improvement thoughts, matched by my obvious delusions of grandeur, that I thought about extending my blog empire with John Duffy's Upgrades, but after some thought, I was afraid it would sound too whiny and ultimately decided that it would not be an improvement to anybody's life... namely mine.
Monday, February 04, 2008
...but, who's counting?
I think it's time to draw everyone's attention to the semi-new Scrabble Counter to the right --> See, over there on the sidebar? John and I are now involved in an intense war of daily scrabbling. It's time to draw your attention to it because I am winning right now (also because I think that a slew of brutal losses -before we started keeping a talley- was the underlying cause of John's recent onset of unexplainable hives).
We lead highly exciting lives... Keep an eye on it as we battle it out.
In other exciting news:
Our cat has now learned to sit for treats. John doesn't find this blog-worthy.
We lead highly exciting lives... Keep an eye on it as we battle it out.
In other exciting news:
Our cat has now learned to sit for treats. John doesn't find this blog-worthy.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Hives are for the Bees
I'm not a fan of long posts, so I apologize in advance.
As I've mentioned, I was on steroids for hives a couple of weeks ago. And as I mentioned, they did a lot for me, but didn't get rid of the hives. I wish that that was the end of the story, but there's more. So last Tuesday, when I stopped taking the steroids, I still had pretty bad hives. Bad enough that I was still taking claritins as much as possible just to stop itching.
Wednesday morning at work, just before I got off, I felt hives coming on pretty strong and without any meds from home, I took what was available at work... two benadryl. I found relief, but I was woozy driving home before I drifted off to sleep in bed. I did not sleep very well, and around four when I woke up, I didn't feel very good. I thought it was just the Benadryl making me feel funny, but then Tiff saw me and said something to the effect of, "Oh my god!" Apparently, my eyes were more or less swollen shut. It didn't surprise me, and I just said my throat feels funny.
We rushed to the hospital as my doctor's office was closed for the day. I was reluctant to go because I wasn't sure it constituted an emergency, but as is becoming the norm, my new wife won out. The ER folks were very nice. They set me up with stronger steroids, stronger anti-histamine's and heartburn medication, which they said acts both to counteract the steroids' side-effects and is an anti-histamine for a different kind of histamine.
I sat there a long time, and as my eye swelling went down and my throat went back to normal, I thought about posting about how boring the ER is compared to what you see on TV. We were there for a few hours, and there were no multiple gunshot victims or seven car pile-ups, no hatchets lodged behind eyes - there wasn't even any one who came in with something minor but it turned out to be an inoperable brain tumor. Just a lot of kids and a lady with a toothache. I would say that my situation definitely was an emergency comparatively. So they declared me healthy and sent me home stocked with more meds, all the while, with me still scratching. - There's so much more though that all that thought just gets a mention.
The next day, Thursday, I called my doctor up for a referral to an allergist. Concerned, she called for me and set up an appointment for that afternoon. Then she sent me to be tested for strept throat. As I'm waiting for the lady with the long Q-Tip - they have their own waiting room for lab work - my throat starts to feel funny. In the brilliance that is me, I wait for my test, then leave the doctor's. As I started wheezing in the car, I had the thought that I should turn back towards the doctor's, or maybe even the hospital, but boldly I continued home.
I told myself that I just needed something to clear it up... Claritin, Benadryl, it didn't matter. But as I got closer, and my wheezing became more audible, I began to worry. It would make sense to worry here but I was worried about the allergist's appointment that afternoon and whether or not it was okay to take anything before the doctor sees me. I make it home, climb the stairs and call the allergist. By this point, I need to take something. My wheezing is audible and uncontrollable and big breaths don't feel like enough. The receptionist notices this and asks if I'm okay. Then she tells me to get there immediately if I can get there. Otherwise, go to the hospital.
Tiff drives me there, twenty minutes in a new direction, which for her is a big deal in and of itself, but when about halfway there, I say through big breaths "Okay, if my throat closes up completely..." and then give the little bit of advice I know from my three hour First Aid class as I'm holding onto expired Benadryl FastMelts.
We make it there, only to get lost in the office park. When we finally walk in, I'm admittedly feeling better. It was like walking onto a movie set though, and I was the big name star. Everybody stopped what they were doing. "Oh you made it!" "Are you okay?" "Come right back, we'll do the paperwork later." Oh man, it was great! Although the first thing they did was take my blood pressure... something that's been happening all too often with all my recent trips to the doctor. That morning it was somewhere around 125 over 80, which was slightly higher than it normally is for me; right then, my blood pressure was 175 over 100. "Are you scared?" asked the nurse.
So in the end, I lived. After about eight hours of my skin feeling like it's crawling or shedding or something very painful, a nice talk with the doctor, a trip to the phlebotomist, back to the allergist for a painful shot in the butt, and back to the pharmacist for the second time in two days, I returned home and took a bath with oatmeal in it - it's supposed to help. I'm on much stronger steroids now for a much longer period, as well as some other meds. And I have to carry around an EpiPen to give myself shots when my life depends on it.
Here are some pictures from that night, after all the meds and after all the swelling went down. My legs are the worse of it but by "legs," I mean where I wear underwear, my thighs mostly, and nobody wants to see that much of me.
Later that night, I finally admitted to Tiff, "Yes, I was scared." I was very, very scared.
As I've mentioned, I was on steroids for hives a couple of weeks ago. And as I mentioned, they did a lot for me, but didn't get rid of the hives. I wish that that was the end of the story, but there's more. So last Tuesday, when I stopped taking the steroids, I still had pretty bad hives. Bad enough that I was still taking claritins as much as possible just to stop itching.
Wednesday morning at work, just before I got off, I felt hives coming on pretty strong and without any meds from home, I took what was available at work... two benadryl. I found relief, but I was woozy driving home before I drifted off to sleep in bed. I did not sleep very well, and around four when I woke up, I didn't feel very good. I thought it was just the Benadryl making me feel funny, but then Tiff saw me and said something to the effect of, "Oh my god!" Apparently, my eyes were more or less swollen shut. It didn't surprise me, and I just said my throat feels funny.
We rushed to the hospital as my doctor's office was closed for the day. I was reluctant to go because I wasn't sure it constituted an emergency, but as is becoming the norm, my new wife won out. The ER folks were very nice. They set me up with stronger steroids, stronger anti-histamine's and heartburn medication, which they said acts both to counteract the steroids' side-effects and is an anti-histamine for a different kind of histamine.
I sat there a long time, and as my eye swelling went down and my throat went back to normal, I thought about posting about how boring the ER is compared to what you see on TV. We were there for a few hours, and there were no multiple gunshot victims or seven car pile-ups, no hatchets lodged behind eyes - there wasn't even any one who came in with something minor but it turned out to be an inoperable brain tumor. Just a lot of kids and a lady with a toothache. I would say that my situation definitely was an emergency comparatively. So they declared me healthy and sent me home stocked with more meds, all the while, with me still scratching. - There's so much more though that all that thought just gets a mention.
The next day, Thursday, I called my doctor up for a referral to an allergist. Concerned, she called for me and set up an appointment for that afternoon. Then she sent me to be tested for strept throat. As I'm waiting for the lady with the long Q-Tip - they have their own waiting room for lab work - my throat starts to feel funny. In the brilliance that is me, I wait for my test, then leave the doctor's. As I started wheezing in the car, I had the thought that I should turn back towards the doctor's, or maybe even the hospital, but boldly I continued home.
I told myself that I just needed something to clear it up... Claritin, Benadryl, it didn't matter. But as I got closer, and my wheezing became more audible, I began to worry. It would make sense to worry here but I was worried about the allergist's appointment that afternoon and whether or not it was okay to take anything before the doctor sees me. I make it home, climb the stairs and call the allergist. By this point, I need to take something. My wheezing is audible and uncontrollable and big breaths don't feel like enough. The receptionist notices this and asks if I'm okay. Then she tells me to get there immediately if I can get there. Otherwise, go to the hospital.
Tiff drives me there, twenty minutes in a new direction, which for her is a big deal in and of itself, but when about halfway there, I say through big breaths "Okay, if my throat closes up completely..." and then give the little bit of advice I know from my three hour First Aid class as I'm holding onto expired Benadryl FastMelts.
We make it there, only to get lost in the office park. When we finally walk in, I'm admittedly feeling better. It was like walking onto a movie set though, and I was the big name star. Everybody stopped what they were doing. "Oh you made it!" "Are you okay?" "Come right back, we'll do the paperwork later." Oh man, it was great! Although the first thing they did was take my blood pressure... something that's been happening all too often with all my recent trips to the doctor. That morning it was somewhere around 125 over 80, which was slightly higher than it normally is for me; right then, my blood pressure was 175 over 100. "Are you scared?" asked the nurse.
So in the end, I lived. After about eight hours of my skin feeling like it's crawling or shedding or something very painful, a nice talk with the doctor, a trip to the phlebotomist, back to the allergist for a painful shot in the butt, and back to the pharmacist for the second time in two days, I returned home and took a bath with oatmeal in it - it's supposed to help. I'm on much stronger steroids now for a much longer period, as well as some other meds. And I have to carry around an EpiPen to give myself shots when my life depends on it.
Here are some pictures from that night, after all the meds and after all the swelling went down. My legs are the worse of it but by "legs," I mean where I wear underwear, my thighs mostly, and nobody wants to see that much of me.
Later that night, I finally admitted to Tiff, "Yes, I was scared." I was very, very scared.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Making Money
Just wanted to boast and brag, I made a sale on Zazzle. Only ten months after I announced that my seemingly insanely over-priced t-shirt business was open for business, I made my first sale. And I am now $1.36 richer. At this rate, I'll have amassed a small fortune by the time my great-great-grandkids enter retirement.
I don't know who my customer was, or what they bought as they edited the product, but if you're out there, I thank you. And keep buying.
I don't know who my customer was, or what they bought as they edited the product, but if you're out there, I thank you. And keep buying.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
New Red Rug
Tiff and I got an area rug the other day from Wal-Mart. We've been talking about getting one recently because after three years our apartment carpet isn't holding up too well. We saw a nice red one at a good price and new it was perfect. Plus, at 5'x8', it's just the right size for where we need it. 
Luckily, the ACTUAL size of where we need it is only 4'6"x7'4".
Saturday, January 26, 2008
The Best Blog
I think I've mentioned in the past that I like Yahoo! I use Yahoo! I check Yahoo! for Yahoo!news and Yahoo! sports and Yahoo! weather. I have Yahoo! email, and I love My Yahoo!, which I checked today and it made me say, "yahoo."
Recently, My Yahoo! was upgraded and I could link it to feeds from blogs, so I linked mine to one blog, that of Leo Babauta, which I'm sure you're now patiently thinking, "yeah, who?" I chose it from a list of options for it's name Zen Habits. I figured maybe it could teach me how to live even more in peace with my body and mind than I am now, if that's possible. The blog is usually just lists and tips of how to unclutter your world and stuff, which generally is kind of boring.
He has apparently found an audience though as his blog was recently named Best Blog of the Year. A few days later he posted "Happy 1st Birthday Zen Habits." I started nearly three years ago... Best Blog... ya-friggin-hoo!
Anyways, he started this other site about writing, so I read his thoughts about blogwriting and I realized how much I am not a blog writer. He stresses how close the writer and the reader are with blogs, "Read that last sentence again, because it’s key: speak to the readers. Write as if you’re talking to them." I think where I'm going wrong is that I'm just talking to myself half the time. (Hey, sexy.)
Maybe if I did "read that last sentence again" I could relate to this: "You’re writing for an audience who will comment on the post mere minutes after you press “publish”. They will argue with you, praise you, become your friends. They will write their own posts, commenting on and analyzing your writing." As it is though, I'm excited when my wife comments... analyzing my writing.
Anyways, I doubt that my blog empire is on its way to any Blog of Fame, I still have fun doing it. And while this post sucks, at least its better than me listing reasons why its important to clean your desk off, even if it is... and you learn something from it... and you read it in spite of how lame you know it to be... probably because you know it's just a list and you don't have to read through some long post with no pictures.
Recently, My Yahoo! was upgraded and I could link it to feeds from blogs, so I linked mine to one blog, that of Leo Babauta, which I'm sure you're now patiently thinking, "yeah, who?" I chose it from a list of options for it's name Zen Habits. I figured maybe it could teach me how to live even more in peace with my body and mind than I am now, if that's possible. The blog is usually just lists and tips of how to unclutter your world and stuff, which generally is kind of boring.
He has apparently found an audience though as his blog was recently named Best Blog of the Year. A few days later he posted "Happy 1st Birthday Zen Habits." I started nearly three years ago... Best Blog... ya-friggin-hoo!
Anyways, he started this other site about writing, so I read his thoughts about blogwriting and I realized how much I am not a blog writer. He stresses how close the writer and the reader are with blogs, "Read that last sentence again, because it’s key: speak to the readers. Write as if you’re talking to them." I think where I'm going wrong is that I'm just talking to myself half the time. (Hey, sexy.)
Maybe if I did "read that last sentence again" I could relate to this: "You’re writing for an audience who will comment on the post mere minutes after you press “publish”. They will argue with you, praise you, become your friends. They will write their own posts, commenting on and analyzing your writing." As it is though, I'm excited when my wife comments... analyzing my writing.
Anyways, I doubt that my blog empire is on its way to any Blog of Fame, I still have fun doing it. And while this post sucks, at least its better than me listing reasons why its important to clean your desk off, even if it is... and you learn something from it... and you read it in spite of how lame you know it to be... probably because you know it's just a list and you don't have to read through some long post with no pictures.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Put Me In, Coach. I'm on Steroids.
That's right, I have entered the world of dubious superstars, as I am on rigorous regiment of steroids.I went to the doctor last week with persistent flu-like symptoms and learned that nothing is wrong with me. So, just to appease me, the good doctor put me on some cough medicine. A few days later, I was covered in nasty, all-to-familiar, red bumps that itched to no end. I have quite a mysterious history with hives in that I had them everyday for about 18 months a few years ago, and never figured out what caused them, where they came from or ultimately, why they left.
With the hives, a lot of things have changed in my life recently, from shampoo, Yes to Carrots!, to Jack LaLanne's PowerJuicer Pro among other stuff, so the doctor just put me on steroids to knock them out and then worry about it if they come back... which seems to be backward logic, but who am I to question someone who's a doctor.
Steroids are crazy though. I strongly doubt that my Prednisone is very similar to the stuff that bulks up ball players, but it has had some pretty incredible side-effects. First off, it gives me head aches right when I take them, but they fade. More importantly, I feel better. For the first time in months, I actually feel close to healthy, which is a good feeling. Also - and this one I'm struggling with the wording - I feel motivated.
At work, I'm doing tasks that I almost never bother with, thinking outside my normal routine, and everything's moving smoothly. At home, I feel like helping out more, which I'm not going to get into because I'm not sure if I actually have been helping out. Also at home, I've been playing a mean game of NCAA Football lately. I'm winning every game! I'm driven... focused... energized. Maybe I'm just healthy for the first time in months.
Now, if I could just stop getting these hives I'd be in good shape.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
My Man-Crush
I haven't written for awhile for various reasons, and most folks reading this might think it's weird what brings me to writing another post.
When Tiff and I first moved in together we didn't have much. We had so little furniture that the living room of our one-bedroom apartment was empty for close to six months as our brand new bed was also our couch, kitchen table, card table, and bathroom... wait, no. We had so little money that we chose not to get cable TV for a year and a half and struggled with bunny ears to watch our favorite shows. That first spring there was more than one "emergency" trips to Tiff's parents' on Tuesday nights to watch American Idol, which we consciously aren't watching this year.
It wasn't long before we decided to get a DVD player and a Blockbuster card - ah, the days before Netflix. We watched a lot of movies, but owned very few. One of those few, in fact one of the first two was A Knight's Tale. This brilliant movie cleverly merges the sport of jousting with classic rock music. You know it's a winner when the medieval royal horn section plays "We Will Rock You." Tiff got it for me because she caught me watching it repeatedly on HBO before we moved out on our own.
The movie's leading man is one Heath Ledger, whom Tiffany convinced me that I had a man-crush on. It wasn't anything sexual, it's just that there was something about him I liked. He seemed down to Earth and just a cool guy. Pretty soon, I embraced the idea of this man-crush and freely mentioned it if it ever came up. Then he was a gay cowboy in Brokeback Mountain, and I felt like a public man-crush took a different tone. So I switched my man-crush to Clive Owen. I guess I got a thing for guys with accents.
Anyways, in a world of Britney Spears media and Hollywood cellulite gracing magazine covers, I liked Heath Ledger and I'm sad to hear of his death. He was great and surely would've been even greater in time.
PS. How cool is it that he's going to be the Joker.
When Tiff and I first moved in together we didn't have much. We had so little furniture that the living room of our one-bedroom apartment was empty for close to six months as our brand new bed was also our couch, kitchen table, card table, and bathroom... wait, no. We had so little money that we chose not to get cable TV for a year and a half and struggled with bunny ears to watch our favorite shows. That first spring there was more than one "emergency" trips to Tiff's parents' on Tuesday nights to watch American Idol, which we consciously aren't watching this year.
It wasn't long before we decided to get a DVD player and a Blockbuster card - ah, the days before Netflix. We watched a lot of movies, but owned very few. One of those few, in fact one of the first two was A Knight's Tale. This brilliant movie cleverly merges the sport of jousting with classic rock music. You know it's a winner when the medieval royal horn section plays "We Will Rock You." Tiff got it for me because she caught me watching it repeatedly on HBO before we moved out on our own.
The movie's leading man is one Heath Ledger, whom Tiffany convinced me that I had a man-crush on. It wasn't anything sexual, it's just that there was something about him I liked. He seemed down to Earth and just a cool guy. Pretty soon, I embraced the idea of this man-crush and freely mentioned it if it ever came up. Then he was a gay cowboy in Brokeback Mountain, and I felt like a public man-crush took a different tone. So I switched my man-crush to Clive Owen. I guess I got a thing for guys with accents.
Anyways, in a world of Britney Spears media and Hollywood cellulite gracing magazine covers, I liked Heath Ledger and I'm sad to hear of his death. He was great and surely would've been even greater in time.
PS. How cool is it that he's going to be the Joker.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Happy Birthday Tiffany!
Today my beautiful wife celebrates her birthday. My gift to her: carrots.
She has recently discovered Yes to Carrots, a line of lotions and shampoos and stuff made from everybody's favorite orange food that grows underground. Well, maybe second favorite after yams. I'm not sure where she learned of Yes to Carrots, perhaps an infomercial, but she ordered a bottle online, I think to get past the $25-no-shipping-fee mark and now she's suddenly all about it. "Golly!" she'll exclaim, "I love my Yes to Carrots! Carrots are the future of health, food, and alternative energy."
So I got her some of their stuff, and I'm finally reading about carrots. She's right, carrots are pretty amazing. They actually do improve your eye sight, they're high in all sorts of good stuff, and are good combatants of tonsillitis! They even reduce the risk of breast cancer. Nature's candy does everything but put hair on your chest.
I have a feeling that if I typed in any other fruit or vegetable a similar list of benefits would emerge. That's not to take anything away from the carrot, it's just that every so often you hear about the amazing effects of whatever. Cranberries, pomegranates, starfruit, blueberries... there's been a list recently of the "new" miracle food that will ensure the survival of the human race.
So if they are all really good for you, I will celebrate them individually. This year carrots get the nod, so join with me as I sing on high, Yes to Carrots!
And next year let us embrace Yes to Yams!
She has recently discovered Yes to Carrots, a line of lotions and shampoos and stuff made from everybody's favorite orange food that grows underground. Well, maybe second favorite after yams. I'm not sure where she learned of Yes to Carrots, perhaps an infomercial, but she ordered a bottle online, I think to get past the $25-no-shipping-fee mark and now she's suddenly all about it. "Golly!" she'll exclaim, "I love my Yes to Carrots! Carrots are the future of health, food, and alternative energy."So I got her some of their stuff, and I'm finally reading about carrots. She's right, carrots are pretty amazing. They actually do improve your eye sight, they're high in all sorts of good stuff, and are good combatants of tonsillitis! They even reduce the risk of breast cancer. Nature's candy does everything but put hair on your chest.
I have a feeling that if I typed in any other fruit or vegetable a similar list of benefits would emerge. That's not to take anything away from the carrot, it's just that every so often you hear about the amazing effects of whatever. Cranberries, pomegranates, starfruit, blueberries... there's been a list recently of the "new" miracle food that will ensure the survival of the human race.
So if they are all really good for you, I will celebrate them individually. This year carrots get the nod, so join with me as I sing on high, Yes to Carrots!
And next year let us embrace Yes to Yams!
Big TV
I'm thinking about upgrading a few of my home appliances. Right now, I've got my eye on Panasonic's new 150-inch plasma TV.
I hear it's so clear that it's like you're actually there. You can visit places you really want to go, like Moraine Lake, Canada (note the date), from the comfort of your own home. Although with a TV like that, you'd need a pretty good sound system.
I hear it's so clear that it's like you're actually there. You can visit places you really want to go, like Moraine Lake, Canada (note the date), from the comfort of your own home. Although with a TV like that, you'd need a pretty good sound system.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Happy New Year!
It's good to have New Year's Resolutions. I have one, although secretly I have at least four or five. I figure it's best to have several stashed away that you're quietly working towards, that way a few months down the road when all but one have fallen to the wayside, you can pull it out from secrecy. You can tell people, "You know, it's the one thing that I set out to accomplish this New Year's and I'm quite proud of myself for sticking to it."
This year I'm trying my hand at sharing my resolution with the world. So is China's national soccer team. They vowed on New Year's Day to qualify for the 2010 World Cup. "I pledge to advance to the World Cup, which is the professional goal that we strive for," they said in unison as a team. This is very noble goal, reaching the top of your career, and while I will support Team USA, I wish them the best of luck.
I have started watching more and more professional soccer. It started after the last World Cup in 2006. Maybe it's because I use to play as a kid when, alone in the yard, my daydreams were usually of the World Cup, but I got really into watching the games in 2006. A lot more so then watching any football or baseball game. It's not quite as exciting, mainly because the crowds aren't as large, but I like that DC United games are broadcast on TV here... actually over one of the C-SPAN channels. Maybe this year I'll get to go to a game.
The second part of China's national team's pledge read like this: "We swear by death to kill along the bloody road of defending the honour of the motherland and realise our youthful dreams." Ah yes, I use to have those bloody... I mean, youthful dreams. Best of luck, China, best of luck.
This year I'm trying my hand at sharing my resolution with the world. So is China's national soccer team. They vowed on New Year's Day to qualify for the 2010 World Cup. "I pledge to advance to the World Cup, which is the professional goal that we strive for," they said in unison as a team. This is very noble goal, reaching the top of your career, and while I will support Team USA, I wish them the best of luck.
I have started watching more and more professional soccer. It started after the last World Cup in 2006. Maybe it's because I use to play as a kid when, alone in the yard, my daydreams were usually of the World Cup, but I got really into watching the games in 2006. A lot more so then watching any football or baseball game. It's not quite as exciting, mainly because the crowds aren't as large, but I like that DC United games are broadcast on TV here... actually over one of the C-SPAN channels. Maybe this year I'll get to go to a game.
The second part of China's national team's pledge read like this: "We swear by death to kill along the bloody road of defending the honour of the motherland and realise our youthful dreams." Ah yes, I use to have those bloody... I mean, youthful dreams. Best of luck, China, best of luck.
Monday, December 31, 2007
My Dancing Debut
Should old aquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind:
That's a married man on stage. Yep, that's a married man.
That's a married man on stage. Yep, that's a married man.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Wii Have Fun!
Tiffany's sister was one of the countless lucky ones whose Santa was able to find a Wii this Christmas. It's much more fun the Magic Bullet. Nintendo's newest offering is amazingly revolutionary with the remote control wand in lieu of what I think of as a regular controller, and after just a few hours of practice I feel like I'm ready to give a major presentation complete with laser pointer.
I should say that my idea of a regular controller is one that is first and foremost tethered to the game console. Moreover, it has a directional pad and an A button and a B button, which is almost always used to jump. Since then there have been some pretty big upgrades. A C-button, but that fell out of favor when X and Y came along. The top L and R trigger buttons were added too, but I don't like using those, because it changes how I hold the controller, then there was the directional pad and the joystick and a trigger and an A, a B, and six C buttons for a while. Then there was a second joystick on the same controller along with a directional pad, which I still don't understand why. But this is something entirely different.
All of those were attached. There was a wire running from you to the game box to the TV. Plus, they were all the same basic idea, they were just getting more and more complicated, not unlike an old one bedroom house that grows room by room as the family inside grows until you wind up with this strange amalgamation of a house that belongs on the pages of Mother Goose, with kids running all over the place.
In fact, I had a friend with this theory that today's kids will possess a much more greater mental capacity as a direct result of all those extra buttons. Growing up using 18 buttons is definitely more complicated than using three that I started out on.
The Wii just scraps the whole idea and forces you to actually swing a bat or roll a ball or shake a soda can or punch your friend. I probably could get into the idea that it's not the same as actually swinging a bat or rolling a ball or punching your friend, but I won't because it's just too much fun! I love it.
I love it so much that I'm afraid I've played it too much. Like the first days of summer growing up, after spending hours upon hours, heading to bed with a sore thumb, the beginnings of a necessary callous, I am holding my arm and wincing in pain from the beginnings of tennis elbow and a sore shoulder, but am eager to return and start up a game.
In honor of my friend, I'm going to take a moment to wonder how the Wii will affect the growth of little minds. They will probably all be experts at giving major presentations with laser pointers.
I should say that my idea of a regular controller is one that is first and foremost tethered to the game console. Moreover, it has a directional pad and an A button and a B button, which is almost always used to jump. Since then there have been some pretty big upgrades. A C-button, but that fell out of favor when X and Y came along. The top L and R trigger buttons were added too, but I don't like using those, because it changes how I hold the controller, then there was the directional pad and the joystick and a trigger and an A, a B, and six C buttons for a while. Then there was a second joystick on the same controller along with a directional pad, which I still don't understand why. But this is something entirely different.
All of those were attached. There was a wire running from you to the game box to the TV. Plus, they were all the same basic idea, they were just getting more and more complicated, not unlike an old one bedroom house that grows room by room as the family inside grows until you wind up with this strange amalgamation of a house that belongs on the pages of Mother Goose, with kids running all over the place.
In fact, I had a friend with this theory that today's kids will possess a much more greater mental capacity as a direct result of all those extra buttons. Growing up using 18 buttons is definitely more complicated than using three that I started out on.
The Wii just scraps the whole idea and forces you to actually swing a bat or roll a ball or shake a soda can or punch your friend. I probably could get into the idea that it's not the same as actually swinging a bat or rolling a ball or punching your friend, but I won't because it's just too much fun! I love it.
I love it so much that I'm afraid I've played it too much. Like the first days of summer growing up, after spending hours upon hours, heading to bed with a sore thumb, the beginnings of a necessary callous, I am holding my arm and wincing in pain from the beginnings of tennis elbow and a sore shoulder, but am eager to return and start up a game.
In honor of my friend, I'm going to take a moment to wonder how the Wii will affect the growth of little minds. They will probably all be experts at giving major presentations with laser pointers.
Friday, December 28, 2007
The Magic Bullet
I've finally succumbed to the power of the TV. I think I mentioned that we downgraded our cable significantly and we know only get somewhere around 15 channels. Of those two are fuzzy, three don't speak English, three are "community" channels, two are titled C-SPAN, and one brings the message of the Roman Catholic faith 24-hours a day.
With our old cable package, it was easy to find nothing to watch. There'd always be some rerun of some celebrity reality show or some movie that was on enough that you probably seen it all, just not in the right order. Our limited cable requires some work and finagling to find nothing to watch. You have to really know where to go and wait for nothing, and as a result I watch a lot of PBS concerts, and okay, my fair share of C-SPAN, which isn't very much.
Then there are infomercials, 30-minute gems of advertising. The crazy thing is is that they almost always get me. I start thinking to myself, well, I'm not much of a cleaner, but if I got that super clean spray, the stuff would stay clean longer. Or, I wonder where I could store a collapsible ladder. Or, I bet it would feel great to have all the build-up flushed out of my intestines. The winner though is the Magic Bullet. Make meals in 3 seconds... one, two... ... ... three!
So for Christmas, our first as Man and Wife, Tiffany got the Magic Bullet. While the name doesn't quite scream kitchen appliance, it's the greatest of it's kind that I've ever come across. The first night, we made excellent omelettes, just put in the eggs, the cheese and a couple slices of ham and in one, two... ... ...three! It was fully blended and poured onto a frying pan. It really was the best home-cooked eggs I've ever had, which is saying something! And to wash it down, Tiff mixed up some coffee and warm chocolate milk into a nice frothy mocchachino, or machiatto, or frappelatte, or something like that.
So I've officially entered the world of teleshopping, even if I found the Magic Bullet at Kmart. It's a pretty slippery slope, as I've already got my eye on another infomercial, and I'm starting to wonder just how much money I'm actually saving with my downgraded cable.
With our old cable package, it was easy to find nothing to watch. There'd always be some rerun of some celebrity reality show or some movie that was on enough that you probably seen it all, just not in the right order. Our limited cable requires some work and finagling to find nothing to watch. You have to really know where to go and wait for nothing, and as a result I watch a lot of PBS concerts, and okay, my fair share of C-SPAN, which isn't very much.
Then there are infomercials, 30-minute gems of advertising. The crazy thing is is that they almost always get me. I start thinking to myself, well, I'm not much of a cleaner, but if I got that super clean spray, the stuff would stay clean longer. Or, I wonder where I could store a collapsible ladder. Or, I bet it would feel great to have all the build-up flushed out of my intestines. The winner though is the Magic Bullet. Make meals in 3 seconds... one, two... ... ... three!
So for Christmas, our first as Man and Wife, Tiffany got the Magic Bullet. While the name doesn't quite scream kitchen appliance, it's the greatest of it's kind that I've ever come across. The first night, we made excellent omelettes, just put in the eggs, the cheese and a couple slices of ham and in one, two... ... ...three! It was fully blended and poured onto a frying pan. It really was the best home-cooked eggs I've ever had, which is saying something! And to wash it down, Tiff mixed up some coffee and warm chocolate milk into a nice frothy mocchachino, or machiatto, or frappelatte, or something like that.So I've officially entered the world of teleshopping, even if I found the Magic Bullet at Kmart. It's a pretty slippery slope, as I've already got my eye on another infomercial, and I'm starting to wonder just how much money I'm actually saving with my downgraded cable.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Merry Christmas
Here's to wishing you the best this Christmas.
Fresh from Jamaica, Tiff and I looked a bit too hard for music that would gap our beach-lovin', no worries reggae vibe with the Christmas carols and stumbled upon this... there's no good way for me to do it, so go here and switch the music player to the "12 Days of Christmas."
It's a great song as it has what is truly important in life, whether you're a Rastafarian or just some white guy in Virginia. I would gladly take five songs to sing over five golden rings any time of the year.
UPDATE: The singer is Peter Broggs... here's the album that he's on. You can listen to thirty seconds of it. Tiff found it on myspace, usually a great place to find music, but I guess it was taken off, which happens all too often.
Fresh from Jamaica, Tiff and I looked a bit too hard for music that would gap our beach-lovin', no worries reggae vibe with the Christmas carols and stumbled upon this... there's no good way for me to do it, so go here and switch the music player to the "12 Days of Christmas."
It's a great song as it has what is truly important in life, whether you're a Rastafarian or just some white guy in Virginia. I would gladly take five songs to sing over five golden rings any time of the year.
UPDATE: The singer is Peter Broggs... here's the album that he's on. You can listen to thirty seconds of it. Tiff found it on myspace, usually a great place to find music, but I guess it was taken off, which happens all too often.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
The Three Finger Theory
I have long held on to the belief that mankind is evolving. Not so much in the superpower sense that Heroes promotes and not so much in the two paths sense of HG Wells' Time Machine. Both of those could happen, I'm not contending that. I would love to be able to fly or shoot laser beams from my eyes or whatever. I'm thinking of something far more subtle, but potentially just as significant.
I developed this theory in the prime of my brain activity years, college, and grasped onto the idea immediately and have let it percolate and bubble over as time has gone by. As I was deep in thought studying the back of my hand one day, I noticed something about my fingers.
My fingers naturally stay with a gap between my index and middle finger and another between my ring finger and pinky. It only makes sense that the result of this one day in the not-so-distant future will be a generation of babies born with only three fingers. Yes, it is my belief that the future will bring a joining of the middle and the ring finger in what will undoubtedly be known as the middling finger. Or the ringiddle finger.
But then recently, something happened that made me rethink that. I looked down at my beautiful hand to ponder my future middling finger and this is what I saw:
Complete and catastrophic heartbreak slowly sank in. How could I have been so naive? My wedding ring throws the entire Three Finger Theory out the window. It is a defenestrated theory! Not only is the ring a physical barrier to the blissful union of middle and ring, it's done so forcefully and painfully as I become accustomed to wearing the very symbol of blissful unions!
As I must slowly recover from the shock and grief brought on by this startling discovery, I will turn to my shiny new ring to brighten my day and my shiny new wife to tell me everything will be okay.
I developed this theory in the prime of my brain activity years, college, and grasped onto the idea immediately and have let it percolate and bubble over as time has gone by. As I was deep in thought studying the back of my hand one day, I noticed something about my fingers.
My fingers naturally stay with a gap between my index and middle finger and another between my ring finger and pinky. It only makes sense that the result of this one day in the not-so-distant future will be a generation of babies born with only three fingers. Yes, it is my belief that the future will bring a joining of the middle and the ring finger in what will undoubtedly be known as the middling finger. Or the ringiddle finger.But then recently, something happened that made me rethink that. I looked down at my beautiful hand to ponder my future middling finger and this is what I saw:
Complete and catastrophic heartbreak slowly sank in. How could I have been so naive? My wedding ring throws the entire Three Finger Theory out the window. It is a defenestrated theory! Not only is the ring a physical barrier to the blissful union of middle and ring, it's done so forcefully and painfully as I become accustomed to wearing the very symbol of blissful unions!As I must slowly recover from the shock and grief brought on by this startling discovery, I will turn to my shiny new ring to brighten my day and my shiny new wife to tell me everything will be okay.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Skittlers
We, at the Muted Guerrilla, would like to introduce to you the greatest game in all the world. The game is simply called skittlers. We stumbled upon this addictive game of skill and precision while on our honeymoon in Jamaica's beautiful Runaway Bay. It's look reminds me oddly of the old cigarette vending machines, but I don't have any pictures suggesting that.
I am confident, however, that you have never seen anything like it or even near it's demanding level of pure enjoyment... for it demands that you have a good time. How can I be so confident? I challenge you to look up skittlers on the internet... you can't find it. Of course, if you type in "skittle" and "Jamaica," you might find the website of our honeymoon destination, but that's asking too much.
Skittlers is similar to billiards in that it's a table game with a green top with holes and you use a cue stick to swat at balls, but the similarities end there. In fact, a better example is golf. But imagine, if you will, if golf were played for speed, and if you have a bad hit you have to start all over, way back at the beginning. That's still not quite right.
So you have yourself a starting point, like a tee, and you have to hit the balls into any of nine holes in order to score points. Each hole has a different value. Every time the ball goes in a hole it rolls down the inside of the machine and out a slot that is worth points. Standing in your way are four menacing wooden posts, guarding the front four holes. If one of these precariously balanced sentinels topples over, which they will undoubtedly do, you lose all your points and start over. The winner is the first to 500.
Oh!! It is so much fun. Tiff and I became pretty good at it too.. We still had our share of start-overs but it never lost its fun. I'm bummed that I probably won't find it here in Virginia, but I guess that's another reason to go back to Jamaica.
I am confident, however, that you have never seen anything like it or even near it's demanding level of pure enjoyment... for it demands that you have a good time. How can I be so confident? I challenge you to look up skittlers on the internet... you can't find it. Of course, if you type in "skittle" and "Jamaica," you might find the website of our honeymoon destination, but that's asking too much.
Skittlers is similar to billiards in that it's a table game with a green top with holes and you use a cue stick to swat at balls, but the similarities end there. In fact, a better example is golf. But imagine, if you will, if golf were played for speed, and if you have a bad hit you have to start all over, way back at the beginning. That's still not quite right.
So you have yourself a starting point, like a tee, and you have to hit the balls into any of nine holes in order to score points. Each hole has a different value. Every time the ball goes in a hole it rolls down the inside of the machine and out a slot that is worth points. Standing in your way are four menacing wooden posts, guarding the front four holes. If one of these precariously balanced sentinels topples over, which they will undoubtedly do, you lose all your points and start over. The winner is the first to 500.Oh!! It is so much fun. Tiff and I became pretty good at it too.. We still had our share of start-overs but it never lost its fun. I'm bummed that I probably won't find it here in Virginia, but I guess that's another reason to go back to Jamaica.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
And I Didn't Even Get a Toothbrush
My writing and posting seems to go in spurts; it was about this time last year that I trailed off only to reemerge in the summer. It must be something to do with the shortened days... it must be.
Last spring, as I was in writing hibernation, I came close to posting something all of one time. I envisioned it in letter format:
Last spring, as I was in writing hibernation, I came close to posting something all of one time. I envisioned it in letter format:
Dear Mom,
I finally made it to the dentist. They cleaned my teeth really well. I only have nine cavities!
Much love,
John Duffy
I'm not sure why it was a letter to my mom, I don't even think she reads my blog.
Anyways, nine months later, I'm finally cavity free, although the dentist said five of them could potential become root canals. Great! More trips to the dentist!
It took two trips to the dentist to get all my cavities worked on; I'm beginning to figure out the proper dentist chair etiquette, if there is any. I haven't experienced stuff like colonoscopies, but the regular dentist visits are surprisingly awkward. I mean the dentist's face is maybe ten inches from yours and they are staring at you the whole time, with their rubbered hands wedged into your mouth. Getting cavities done, I had a second face near mine, with a third and fourth hand working in my mouth.
With two faces right in front of me, I had a hard time finding something to look at. I closed my eyes for a while but that made me swallow more, so I tried to keep them open. I can report the ceiling was a dreary cream color. There is a TV in the office, but it's at my feet so I couldn't watch it. The dentist surely did though, occasionally making comments that I responded to through grunts with hands in my mouth. The second time I went I was unusually tired and felt myself drift off to sleep once or twice. I twitched and jumped and couldn't explain, as I had hands and drills in my mouth.
All in all, I'm done with the dentist for a while... at least six months or so. Hopefully, I'm not done with the blog for six months or so. We will see though.
Friday, December 14, 2007
The Goat Race
So I got married... Tiffany is now my wife. Jamaica was amazing, absolutely amazing, and we had a truly wonderful time. There are many, many stories to tell, including some of actually getting married, but Tiff and I agree that the first one shared definitely needs to be the Goat Race.
I was in the fourth heat of racers. The three heats before me were all very close match-ups, where it was anyone's race right down to the finish line. My heat was extremely intense from the beginning. Here's me at the starting line getting pumped up along with all my competitors.
I was in the fourth heat of racers. The three heats before me were all very close match-ups, where it was anyone's race right down to the finish line. My heat was extremely intense from the beginning. Here's me at the starting line getting pumped up along with all my competitors.
I hope you can see the focus and determination on everyone's face but mine. Here's the actual race:
So I didn't take home the grand prize but I feel I gave it all I had... I'm not sure if the goat put forth all his effort though.
Monday, December 03, 2007
I'm Getting Married!!
Tomorrow I head off to the Caribbean, where I'll be getting married on Friday!! I'll be back next Thursday with a ring on my finger and a wife on my arm. And I'll eventually share a story or two, but for now... I'm off to this gazebo:
And I'm getting married!!
And I'm getting married!!
Christmas Convoy
The federal government has quite a few resources at their disposal.
The other day... over a week ago now - the Sunday after Thanksgiving, Tiff and I drove up to a long line of cars and trucks on the highway all blinking their hazards. They were driving way too slow for I-95 and were really making heavy traffic become dangerous traffic. I muttered more than one word that I shouldn't repeat.
With the first five or six cars we saw, along with a blue-light police car, we assumed we were passing a funeral, but a funeral procession on the highway? Hmmm... a little peculiar. When we went over a hill, things became a little clearer, albeit a little stranger. We didn't see many at first, but we did see one of them. A giant flatbed truck was just ahead covered with no less than 75 Christmas trees. We soon caught up to it and noticed it was a U.S. Forestry Services truck.
The federal government always gets the best. These trees, judging by their liscense plates, are hauled down from Vermont. I guess that's where true authentic Christmas trees are born. The Christmas tree farm just up the rode from where Tiff grew up, maybe an hour outside of DC, aren't quite good enough. The federal government deserves the best.
We passed maybe ten more trucks each with Christmas trees stacked high and then we caught up to the lead one. An equally large flatbed truck with one giant Christmas tree wrapped up in a traveling coat fully decorated with lights with a big sign reading:
I'm not sure about that dog there. We stopped at the next rest stop to rest and as we were getting ready to go, in comes the Christmas Convoy, one after the other. I got to take a few pictures.
Looking back on it, I probably could have gotten some better shots. Just to note, these are not the National Christmas Tree. That tree is planted in the ground outside the White House. Even though it's there year round, it was a gift by the state of Vermont... it's authentic.
The other day... over a week ago now - the Sunday after Thanksgiving, Tiff and I drove up to a long line of cars and trucks on the highway all blinking their hazards. They were driving way too slow for I-95 and were really making heavy traffic become dangerous traffic. I muttered more than one word that I shouldn't repeat.
With the first five or six cars we saw, along with a blue-light police car, we assumed we were passing a funeral, but a funeral procession on the highway? Hmmm... a little peculiar. When we went over a hill, things became a little clearer, albeit a little stranger. We didn't see many at first, but we did see one of them. A giant flatbed truck was just ahead covered with no less than 75 Christmas trees. We soon caught up to it and noticed it was a U.S. Forestry Services truck.
The federal government always gets the best. These trees, judging by their liscense plates, are hauled down from Vermont. I guess that's where true authentic Christmas trees are born. The Christmas tree farm just up the rode from where Tiff grew up, maybe an hour outside of DC, aren't quite good enough. The federal government deserves the best.
We passed maybe ten more trucks each with Christmas trees stacked high and then we caught up to the lead one. An equally large flatbed truck with one giant Christmas tree wrapped up in a traveling coat fully decorated with lights with a big sign reading:
I'm not sure about that dog there. We stopped at the next rest stop to rest and as we were getting ready to go, in comes the Christmas Convoy, one after the other. I got to take a few pictures.Looking back on it, I probably could have gotten some better shots. Just to note, these are not the National Christmas Tree. That tree is planted in the ground outside the White House. Even though it's there year round, it was a gift by the state of Vermont... it's authentic.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Suddenly Seventeen
I promise my lack of recent posts has nothing to do with the Writers strike.
I've had a cold for a few weeks. That's not all that uncommon for me. A few days of a bad cough turns into a few days of a runny nose turns into a few days of just not feeling good and then the cough comes back. It's pretty minor and I've never gone to the doctor for it. It's just a cold. A doctor's visit would be a waste of time, mine and his.
I took two days off from work this week mainly just to take two days off from work. My boss asked that I bring in a doctor's note. A doctor's note for a common cold. By the time I got to the doctor's, I felt fine, my one symptom, a runny nose, being completely cleared up, and I was rehearsing how I would justify to the doctor coming in. "My boss needs a note," was about the extent of it.
I'm losing track of my story. It turns out, while I felt healthy, I had a temperature, 99.1, and she said my glands were swollen and then said I had a sinus infection, which I think is just a fancy word for a cold. It all happened very quickly and I forgot to ask for a note.
The weird part is at the pharmacy. As the pharmacist handed me my meds, she says to me, "You may want to call your insurance company." I'm not sure what it was but I knew I was guilty of something and turned bright red. She explained that the insurance company has my birthday as May 6, 1990. Each part is pretty close, but altogether, it's way off.
So, while it's nice to be ten years younger, I think I need to make a phone call. I'm curious though how my doctor's office didn't pick up on it.
I've had a cold for a few weeks. That's not all that uncommon for me. A few days of a bad cough turns into a few days of a runny nose turns into a few days of just not feeling good and then the cough comes back. It's pretty minor and I've never gone to the doctor for it. It's just a cold. A doctor's visit would be a waste of time, mine and his.
I took two days off from work this week mainly just to take two days off from work. My boss asked that I bring in a doctor's note. A doctor's note for a common cold. By the time I got to the doctor's, I felt fine, my one symptom, a runny nose, being completely cleared up, and I was rehearsing how I would justify to the doctor coming in. "My boss needs a note," was about the extent of it.
I'm losing track of my story. It turns out, while I felt healthy, I had a temperature, 99.1, and she said my glands were swollen and then said I had a sinus infection, which I think is just a fancy word for a cold. It all happened very quickly and I forgot to ask for a note.
The weird part is at the pharmacy. As the pharmacist handed me my meds, she says to me, "You may want to call your insurance company." I'm not sure what it was but I knew I was guilty of something and turned bright red. She explained that the insurance company has my birthday as May 6, 1990. Each part is pretty close, but altogether, it's way off.
So, while it's nice to be ten years younger, I think I need to make a phone call. I'm curious though how my doctor's office didn't pick up on it.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Happy Veteran's Day
Happy Veteran's Day everybody and thanks to all the veteran's everywhere... or at least all the ones on our side. Today is also significant as it marks the 37th anniversary of the exploding whale.
Yes, the blast blasted blubber beyond all believable bounds. The next line's great too... "alright Craig you can take your hands out of your ears."
Yes, the blast blasted blubber beyond all believable bounds. The next line's great too... "alright Craig you can take your hands out of your ears."
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Ratings
If I ran a blog empire I would want people to rate my posts as easily as you can rate articles on Yahoo!, CDs at Amazon, or determine the fate of fallen gladiators. I wait... I do run a blog empire! I do want people to rate my posts! Now, if blogger just let me do it I would be a happy camper.
Yahoo! lets you rate each article with a 5 star option. Amazon does the same thing with all it's products. On Yahoo!, you can give movies grades A to F and you can give people the thumbs up or down on their Answers feature. All these are great and wonderful, and would be a great addition to my blog. Well... either a great addition or a short-lived, highly depressing experiment.
Personally, I don't think a five point scale has the range to get a true sense of your opinion towards something. And a ten point scale is too over-used and ten is an arbitrary number anyways, so I am introducing what is to my knowledge the first ever 30 point scale. Thirty points will eliminate ugly decimals, while giving you a broad range to choose from.
It may sound crazy, but it's not - it's revolutionary. Think of the best movie you've ever seen - say it's Home Alone. You think Home Alone is the greatest movie ever made. You especially like the one scene with the old guy in the church. Home Alone would then score a 29. That's right. Nothing ever gets a 30, because something better will always come.
Now let's think of the worst movie ever - say, for whatever reason, you hate the movie Jaws III. Simple enough... it gets a zero. Why can there be a zero and no thirty? Why can there be a zero on a 1 to 30 scale? Because things can always suck.
Anyways, I fear if I drag this on any longer I will start to lose points... even more points than I lost for mentioning that I would lose points for dragging this out. So with no further ado, I urge everybody everywhere to use my new and improved ratings every second of every day.
Or at least until I can convince blogger to give me some sort of rating scale option of its own.
Yahoo! lets you rate each article with a 5 star option. Amazon does the same thing with all it's products. On Yahoo!, you can give movies grades A to F and you can give people the thumbs up or down on their Answers feature. All these are great and wonderful, and would be a great addition to my blog. Well... either a great addition or a short-lived, highly depressing experiment.
Personally, I don't think a five point scale has the range to get a true sense of your opinion towards something. And a ten point scale is too over-used and ten is an arbitrary number anyways, so I am introducing what is to my knowledge the first ever 30 point scale. Thirty points will eliminate ugly decimals, while giving you a broad range to choose from.
It may sound crazy, but it's not - it's revolutionary. Think of the best movie you've ever seen - say it's Home Alone. You think Home Alone is the greatest movie ever made. You especially like the one scene with the old guy in the church. Home Alone would then score a 29. That's right. Nothing ever gets a 30, because something better will always come.
Now let's think of the worst movie ever - say, for whatever reason, you hate the movie Jaws III. Simple enough... it gets a zero. Why can there be a zero and no thirty? Why can there be a zero on a 1 to 30 scale? Because things can always suck.
Anyways, I fear if I drag this on any longer I will start to lose points... even more points than I lost for mentioning that I would lose points for dragging this out. So with no further ado, I urge everybody everywhere to use my new and improved ratings every second of every day.
Or at least until I can convince blogger to give me some sort of rating scale option of its own.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
The Scariest Costumes of All
Politicians. A few weeks ago, there was a knock on my door. I jumped - I jump at sudden noises. Tiff grabbed our illegal cat and fled to a darkened closet. I opened the door to find my friendly State Delegate, or maybe here in Virginia, Commonwealth Delegate. He told me what he stands for - he's against illegal immigration. He told me what his challenger stands for -she's for illegal immigration. He even gave me shiny flyers as he showed his shiny teeth. I told him I would vote for him.
Yesterday, there was a knock on my door. Tiff grabbed our illegal cat, fleeing to a dark closet. I opened the door to find my friendly State Delegate's friendly challenger and her assistant. I knew the second one was an assistant because she had a clipboard and didn't talk, or even make eye contact. I asked them if they wanted to watch Smallville, we're on Season 5. The challenger told me what she stands for - she's against immigration. She told me what her challenger stands for - he's for immigration. She showed me pictures of her family; I don't know why. I told her I would vote for her even though she didn't want to watch any Smallville.
I live in Prince William County, VA. They've started cracking down on illegal immigration. Apparently, it's a pretty big deal here. If I'm against illegal immigration, it's just because it's illegal. Otherwise, how'd this become the major issue.
I want to buy a house. If either one of them had lied and said, "Once in the State House, or well, Commonwealth House, I will see to it that you own a house," I would vote for them.
Even if they had to tax pumpkins to do it. When all else fails, tax the pumpkins.
Yesterday, there was a knock on my door. Tiff grabbed our illegal cat, fleeing to a dark closet. I opened the door to find my friendly State Delegate's friendly challenger and her assistant. I knew the second one was an assistant because she had a clipboard and didn't talk, or even make eye contact. I asked them if they wanted to watch Smallville, we're on Season 5. The challenger told me what she stands for - she's against immigration. She told me what her challenger stands for - he's for immigration. She showed me pictures of her family; I don't know why. I told her I would vote for her even though she didn't want to watch any Smallville.
I live in Prince William County, VA. They've started cracking down on illegal immigration. Apparently, it's a pretty big deal here. If I'm against illegal immigration, it's just because it's illegal. Otherwise, how'd this become the major issue.
I want to buy a house. If either one of them had lied and said, "Once in the State House, or well, Commonwealth House, I will see to it that you own a house," I would vote for them.
Even if they had to tax pumpkins to do it. When all else fails, tax the pumpkins.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Sales Pitch
It wasn't too long ago that Tiff and I finally put our name on the no-call list and the phone more-or-less stopped ringing. The no-call list is great. Our phone rings so little now that sometimes I'm even inclined to answer it. It isn't fool-proof though, and with this being a political season, we've been getting quite a few calls lately. I don't mind surveys or even automated campaign calls, as long as they're not asking for money, they're alright with me.
Last night, however, the Fraternal Order of Police called reminding me to buckle up for safety. Then they said they were going to send me a window-sticker boasting of my support for the Fraternal Order of Police. Then they asked for fifty dollars.
Now, I'm all for buckling up. I think safety belts are great. So are the police. But are there any other organizations out there cold-calling folks for donations? I understand the need to support the police and I am in no way undermining the bravery and citizenship of police officers everywhere. Maybe I'm out of line, but I don't think that equals some moral impetus to give them money.
I don't want to say flat-out "I do not support your cause" because that wouldn't be true. I give him my brief line about how it's a good foundation but I don't have any money to give away right now, and like a good salesman, he pushes on, not for the last time. He tries $35.
In the end, despite all my efforts to be polite and hear him out I just hung up on the guy. I wasn't sure what else to do. I've also been getting a lot of calls from my bank offering me accidental death insurance. I have to fight these off too, explaining that I've already got something similar... a tip jar on the right. Clang, clang. It's my own Fraternal Order of John Duffy. Clang, clang.
I had a different sales encounter recently, too.
Last night, however, the Fraternal Order of Police called reminding me to buckle up for safety. Then they said they were going to send me a window-sticker boasting of my support for the Fraternal Order of Police. Then they asked for fifty dollars.
Now, I'm all for buckling up. I think safety belts are great. So are the police. But are there any other organizations out there cold-calling folks for donations? I understand the need to support the police and I am in no way undermining the bravery and citizenship of police officers everywhere. Maybe I'm out of line, but I don't think that equals some moral impetus to give them money.
I don't want to say flat-out "I do not support your cause" because that wouldn't be true. I give him my brief line about how it's a good foundation but I don't have any money to give away right now, and like a good salesman, he pushes on, not for the last time. He tries $35.
In the end, despite all my efforts to be polite and hear him out I just hung up on the guy. I wasn't sure what else to do. I've also been getting a lot of calls from my bank offering me accidental death insurance. I have to fight these off too, explaining that I've already got something similar... a tip jar on the right. Clang, clang. It's my own Fraternal Order of John Duffy. Clang, clang.
I had a different sales encounter recently, too.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
End to Batteries!
I made a twenty-five dollar investment yesterday morning at Tuesday Morning. I bought a rechargable battery recharger. It comes with both AA and AAA batteries! Not only am I personally saving the world from Global Warming, but I will never have to buy batteries ever again!That's right. I will never buy batteries again!
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
A Better Waste of Time
Just in case anyone else is bored of Bounce Out - I have pushed my high score up to 235,268 - here's another game that's twice as interesting. Desktop Tower Defense 1.5 is 100% strategy... making it 50% fun and 50% frustrating. I will admit there is an end to it, so once you figure it out, it's not quite as exciting. Unlike Bounce Out however, you can see how your score stacks up against other bored dorks.
Desktop Tower Defense is by far the best game that I've tried from the website, but it boasts that there are 1,879 free games to play. It's a site where game developers can put their games online, I believe for free, and share in the ad revenue. It's kind of a cool idea. Maybe not as cool as my block market idea, but genius isn't found everyday.
Desktop Tower Defense is by far the best game that I've tried from the website, but it boasts that there are 1,879 free games to play. It's a site where game developers can put their games online, I believe for free, and share in the ad revenue. It's kind of a cool idea. Maybe not as cool as my block market idea, but genius isn't found everyday.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Lend A micro Hand
A few weeks ago, Bill Clinton was on Oprah talking about giving. I remember I was pretty impressed with the whole notion, but I keep thinking about a five minute segment towards the end about a microlending website. It took me some time to track it down, but I found it, Kiva.org. Here, you can put as little as $25 into an account and donate it to any of a number of poverty-stricken entrepreneurs from around the world. They have to pay it back and then you can donate your money to someone else. Maybe it's just my International Affairs degree speaking, but I think this is the coolest. And you should at least check it out.
For a long time, I've been saving up my change with the noble aspiration of donating a llama to someone through Heiffer International, but I think I like the idea of Kiva better. Despit the note:
I almost got out my credit card today, but luckily I checked my horoscope first: "Taurus - Take some time today to review your accounts and make sure you are prepared."
Good thing too, especially after the damn locksmith! They don't take anything less than $25 though, so if you got the urge to donate less, you should donate to the best website on the web on the sidebar. All my thoughts that's fit to print. Clink-clink-clink.
For a long time, I've been saving up my change with the noble aspiration of donating a llama to someone through Heiffer International, but I think I like the idea of Kiva better. Despit the note:
Due to a recent surge in support ignited by viewers of the Oprah Winfrey Show, the Today Show, and readers of President Clinton's newly released book Giving, there is
currently a shortage of businesses in need of loans. The Kiva.org staff and our
Field Partners are working overtime to get more businesses on the website. In
the meantime, thank you for your patience!
I almost got out my credit card today, but luckily I checked my horoscope first: "Taurus - Take some time today to review your accounts and make sure you are prepared."
Good thing too, especially after the damn locksmith! They don't take anything less than $25 though, so if you got the urge to donate less, you should donate to the best website on the web on the sidebar. All my thoughts that's fit to print. Clink-clink-clink.
Last One, I Swear...
I didn't want to write anything else about the squirrels on the balcony, but right now I'm being serenaded by one angry momma. She's been satanically barking for over an hour. It's driving me nuts.
Last week, as the baby squirrels had grown big enough to do this:
Last week, as the baby squirrels had grown big enough to do this:
I decided it was time to say goodbye. I cleaned up all their stuff while momma squirrel was out one day. The next day they had descended into the real world. No more luxury-balcony-tree-house anymore. I saw one of them yesterday on my way down the stairs... our eyes met and communicated what I can only assume was a nod of gratitude, a "thanks for letting me grow up on your balcony and destroy your cat's nervous system". It made me happy. I've done my part in the universe.
The babies haven't been back, but momma squirrel comes back every day to yell at me. It's frightening. If she were a person I'd have a restraining order by now. If you've ever actually heard an angry squirrel, you know what I mean.
At least someone else out there shares in my pain...
Dyn-o-mite!!
I'm trying to keep away from commenting on news articles, but this is my second in a row. The Nobel Prize for Literature was awarded today to this lady. I'm not quite sure who she is either.The part about it that gets me is actually an article that I had copied-and-pasted and emailed to myself, but the link takes me to the same article so I can't link it... sorry. The article though is all about speculation on who will win. Ms. Doris Lessing was not a top pick. Bookies had three names of possible contenders.
This got me thinking, do people actually bet on the Nobel Prize? I think it fits in well with the spirit of the prize. I can just picture a bunch of British guys at a bar, "Hey Barkeep! Turn the channel, they're about to announce the winner." And then the nervous guy in the corner, "Come on Judy Blume. Come on Judy Blume."
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
Jungle Fever
Here's a crazy story about an orangutan who shows no interest for female orangutans but has got a thing for tattoed blondes. Monkeys make me laugh. Or apes... whatever.It's not quite the same, but it reminds me of a wikipedia entry I once read. The Panda is having a modest resurgence in its population. Last year there were a record number of pandas being born under the watchful eye of researchers and zookeepers. Part of the reason is the use of a new technique to instigate the mating dance, showing the pandas videos of other pandas having sex. They may call them "educational" videos, but dim the light, cue Kenny G, and education gives way to natural instincts. Wikipedia even has an entry now titled panda pornography.
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Somebody Save Somebody
With my blood. Bwa-ha-ha-ha-haaaa!! I figure it’s close enough to Halloween to pull out the scary laugh.
I gave blood yesterday for the first time in four or five years. If you haven’t done it in awhile I suggest you give it a shot as there have been some serious advances in blood-letting. After the initial interview and blood test, the lady asked me if I wanted to do the red cell retrieval method, which she claimed isn’t much different, just takes a bit longer, and it is a much bigger help to the Red Cross. I hadn’t told Tiff that I was going to give blood so I considered asking to go tell her where I was (we were at an art show together), but it’s for a good cause. I gave a typical non-committal “sure,” and she led me past the reclining cot-like chairs that I’m used to and introduced me to Alyx.
Alyx is not short for anything, I asked. It’s just to make the scary machine look friendlier. So they sit me down in the same sort of chair, smear iodine all over the better part of my arm, just as always, and they ask me to sign a death waiver. Seriously.
They explain a bit more before I sign my life away. Alyx takes blood out of the body, puts it through a centrifuge which divides the red blood cells from the rest of the stuff that’s in blood, and then it takes the red blood cells and gives me back the rest. The fact that they are putting stuff back into my body requires a death waiver. My thought process went something like, “Wait, there’s a centrifuge! Sign me up!”
They stick me with the needle and Alyx kicks on, and the little tube turns red just as always. It’s different than how I remember it though. It hurts. Afraid that I’ve grown into a wuss in the past few years, I don’t say anything, but when I grimace, the attendant, nurse?, explains that unlike the old system that just waits for your heart to pump the blood, Alyx pulls the blood out of you. As disturbing as that sounds, the knowledge that it was working properly was comforting at the time. At least nothing’s wrong, although I did sign that death waiver.
The centrifuge kicks in and sure enough blood filters into a darkening red bag and yellowing clear bag. Then the process gets reversed, the first of four times that Alyx pushes the good stuff back into my arm. The red tube turns yellow as I feel the pull dissipate, and it doesn’t hurt as bad. The nurse says, out of the blue, “it’s okay to ask for a blanket.” I said something to the effect of what, and she explained that the yellow stuff would be returning to my body at room temperature. I might feel a chill. Great, I thought, and I signed a death waiver.
About halfway through, my hand falls asleep. Usually when a body part falls asleep, you try to get blood to it to get some feeling back in it, but with a giant needle sucking all the blood out, there’s no relief. Soon, I start moving my fingers with concern. I have to watch myself do this because I cannot feel my fingers moving. Yep, I signed a death waiver.
On the last round of yellow stuff returning to my body, I start to shiver. It’s very odd though; I’m not cold, I’m just shivering uncontrollably. My teeth are chattering, my arms are shaking. Just as I’m starting to feel the cold, Alyx turns off, the needle comes out, and the nurse wraps a tourniquet around my arm to hold the cotton ball in place, and keep me from bleeding to death.
I spent my obligatory ten minutes drinking juice and eating the six cracker sandwich pack talking to a frightening one toothed lady who told me that this was her first time giving blood because every other time she tried they thought she was drunk. I wanted to get away from her, and I knew Tiff would be worried, so still a little woozy, I grabbed a water and another cracker pack and went back to find Tiff.
I told Tiff the above story without as much detail, then I start feeling pretty bad. I wish we had brought the camera, because Tiff says I’m turning blue. My lips, around my eyes. I feel cold, and the water and crackers are gone too quickly. I send Tiff off to find food, assuring her that I’ll be okay. She comes back empty handed, there’s no food that will work, stupid Vegetarian Challenge. She agrees to go to a grocery store that’s a good walk away.
While she’s gone, things get fuzzy. I get up from my chair and stumble over to a patch of grass where I sit down, lie down, start to sweat. I start feeling better and somebody comes by and gives me a flag of Annandale, the town we were in. Tiff returns with food and water. I eat and drink and get some color. Pretty soon I turn blue again and have to repeat the process on the grassy patch. As I’m lying down sweating, undoubtedly drawing in customers, little kids are watching, and Tiff suggests I go back to the Red Cross people. I walked away from the blood-thirsty phlebotomists feeling better, but under orders to get a good meal. “There’s six dollar ribs!” which I can’t eat, stupid Vegetarian Challenge, but that’s okay, and there’s nothing I can do, because I signed a death waiver.
A few hours later, the color back in my face, we break down our tent, shows over. It’s usually not that tough, and it isn’t today, but I’m relegated to the sidelines, watching my young fiancé do all the heavy lifting, all the packing, and more or less all the work. So in the end, I didn’t die and didn’t even have to work. Plus, I saved a life, I hope, because it was not a fun process - somebody had better be saved.
I gave blood yesterday for the first time in four or five years. If you haven’t done it in awhile I suggest you give it a shot as there have been some serious advances in blood-letting. After the initial interview and blood test, the lady asked me if I wanted to do the red cell retrieval method, which she claimed isn’t much different, just takes a bit longer, and it is a much bigger help to the Red Cross. I hadn’t told Tiff that I was going to give blood so I considered asking to go tell her where I was (we were at an art show together), but it’s for a good cause. I gave a typical non-committal “sure,” and she led me past the reclining cot-like chairs that I’m used to and introduced me to Alyx.
Alyx is not short for anything, I asked. It’s just to make the scary machine look friendlier. So they sit me down in the same sort of chair, smear iodine all over the better part of my arm, just as always, and they ask me to sign a death waiver. Seriously.They explain a bit more before I sign my life away. Alyx takes blood out of the body, puts it through a centrifuge which divides the red blood cells from the rest of the stuff that’s in blood, and then it takes the red blood cells and gives me back the rest. The fact that they are putting stuff back into my body requires a death waiver. My thought process went something like, “Wait, there’s a centrifuge! Sign me up!”
They stick me with the needle and Alyx kicks on, and the little tube turns red just as always. It’s different than how I remember it though. It hurts. Afraid that I’ve grown into a wuss in the past few years, I don’t say anything, but when I grimace, the attendant, nurse?, explains that unlike the old system that just waits for your heart to pump the blood, Alyx pulls the blood out of you. As disturbing as that sounds, the knowledge that it was working properly was comforting at the time. At least nothing’s wrong, although I did sign that death waiver.
The centrifuge kicks in and sure enough blood filters into a darkening red bag and yellowing clear bag. Then the process gets reversed, the first of four times that Alyx pushes the good stuff back into my arm. The red tube turns yellow as I feel the pull dissipate, and it doesn’t hurt as bad. The nurse says, out of the blue, “it’s okay to ask for a blanket.” I said something to the effect of what, and she explained that the yellow stuff would be returning to my body at room temperature. I might feel a chill. Great, I thought, and I signed a death waiver.
About halfway through, my hand falls asleep. Usually when a body part falls asleep, you try to get blood to it to get some feeling back in it, but with a giant needle sucking all the blood out, there’s no relief. Soon, I start moving my fingers with concern. I have to watch myself do this because I cannot feel my fingers moving. Yep, I signed a death waiver.
On the last round of yellow stuff returning to my body, I start to shiver. It’s very odd though; I’m not cold, I’m just shivering uncontrollably. My teeth are chattering, my arms are shaking. Just as I’m starting to feel the cold, Alyx turns off, the needle comes out, and the nurse wraps a tourniquet around my arm to hold the cotton ball in place, and keep me from bleeding to death.
I spent my obligatory ten minutes drinking juice and eating the six cracker sandwich pack talking to a frightening one toothed lady who told me that this was her first time giving blood because every other time she tried they thought she was drunk. I wanted to get away from her, and I knew Tiff would be worried, so still a little woozy, I grabbed a water and another cracker pack and went back to find Tiff.
I told Tiff the above story without as much detail, then I start feeling pretty bad. I wish we had brought the camera, because Tiff says I’m turning blue. My lips, around my eyes. I feel cold, and the water and crackers are gone too quickly. I send Tiff off to find food, assuring her that I’ll be okay. She comes back empty handed, there’s no food that will work, stupid Vegetarian Challenge. She agrees to go to a grocery store that’s a good walk away.
While she’s gone, things get fuzzy. I get up from my chair and stumble over to a patch of grass where I sit down, lie down, start to sweat. I start feeling better and somebody comes by and gives me a flag of Annandale, the town we were in. Tiff returns with food and water. I eat and drink and get some color. Pretty soon I turn blue again and have to repeat the process on the grassy patch. As I’m lying down sweating, undoubtedly drawing in customers, little kids are watching, and Tiff suggests I go back to the Red Cross people. I walked away from the blood-thirsty phlebotomists feeling better, but under orders to get a good meal. “There’s six dollar ribs!” which I can’t eat, stupid Vegetarian Challenge, but that’s okay, and there’s nothing I can do, because I signed a death waiver.
A few hours later, the color back in my face, we break down our tent, shows over. It’s usually not that tough, and it isn’t today, but I’m relegated to the sidelines, watching my young fiancé do all the heavy lifting, all the packing, and more or less all the work. So in the end, I didn’t die and didn’t even have to work. Plus, I saved a life, I hope, because it was not a fun process - somebody had better be saved.
Saturday, October 06, 2007
Complete and Utter AdSense
Blogger allows you, or well me, to have ads on my site. through AdSense, which I think is because they have special powers to sense out of evil. Or maybe I've just been watching too much Smallville. What it does do is look over my sight from time to time to see what I'm writing about, then it puts up what it thinks are relative ads. Right now, it thinks this blog includes a lot about the Hurricane Katrina Fund, which it suddenly does.
So, I encourage everyone to make me a true sellout and visit whatever it is that I'm advertising for, even if it is little blue pills or specific-use pumps, and therefore make me rich beyond my wildest dreams! Actually, I mainly put it up there just to see what some computer program thinks I'm talking about.
And that's why: President Bush's live-bait helped propel the on-line gaming world of credit cards and virus protection software, while earning $700 a week from your living room!
So, I encourage everyone to make me a true sellout and visit whatever it is that I'm advertising for, even if it is little blue pills or specific-use pumps, and therefore make me rich beyond my wildest dreams! Actually, I mainly put it up there just to see what some computer program thinks I'm talking about.
And that's why: President Bush's live-bait helped propel the on-line gaming world of credit cards and virus protection software, while earning $700 a week from your living room!
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Words are Fun
Upon suggestion from a fan, hey Ann!, I am changing the format of my word list. I have been putting the words into my own little sentences, perhaps as a way to help remember the word, but more just because it is kind of fun. Now, I will use the actual text and source it.
I think growing up the only regular homework that I was ever truly eager to do was something similar with our weekly vocabulary list straight off the pages of Wordly Wise. Each week we had to create a sentence for each of the twenty vocabulary words, and my memories of it are trying to come up with the strangest sentences possible that still made sense. At the beginning of the year, I would try to have the sentences go together as much as possible, but towards the end, my running internal monologue would award me extra points if I was able to make each sentence as unique in subject and tone as possible. I guess I never really thought about liking the homework, and it hadn't translated into reading yet. That year the class read a book with a pink cover about a kid on a farm. I didn't read it. I never even tried.
I just started reading The Road by Cormac McCarthy. It's an Oprah's Book Club book! I am not very far into it but I'm guessing that Mr. McCarthy name will be used quite a few times. I just saw a list of the greatest modern novels, from 1900 on. James Joyce tops the list with Ulysses. It is not an Oprah's Book Club book. I can only assume that reading it would be one hell of an odyssey, but it uses over 30,000 different words. I'm not sure what kind of sacrifice it would make, but reading it may be worth the challenge.
James Joyce also came in at number three on the list with A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, which I was suppose to read for a class in college. Never even tried to read that one either. I was quite the student.
I think growing up the only regular homework that I was ever truly eager to do was something similar with our weekly vocabulary list straight off the pages of Wordly Wise. Each week we had to create a sentence for each of the twenty vocabulary words, and my memories of it are trying to come up with the strangest sentences possible that still made sense. At the beginning of the year, I would try to have the sentences go together as much as possible, but towards the end, my running internal monologue would award me extra points if I was able to make each sentence as unique in subject and tone as possible. I guess I never really thought about liking the homework, and it hadn't translated into reading yet. That year the class read a book with a pink cover about a kid on a farm. I didn't read it. I never even tried.
I just started reading The Road by Cormac McCarthy. It's an Oprah's Book Club book! I am not very far into it but I'm guessing that Mr. McCarthy name will be used quite a few times. I just saw a list of the greatest modern novels, from 1900 on. James Joyce tops the list with Ulysses. It is not an Oprah's Book Club book. I can only assume that reading it would be one hell of an odyssey, but it uses over 30,000 different words. I'm not sure what kind of sacrifice it would make, but reading it may be worth the challenge.
James Joyce also came in at number three on the list with A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, which I was suppose to read for a class in college. Never even tried to read that one either. I was quite the student.
Monday, October 01, 2007
Cable's Out
A little over a year ago we signed up for cable, getting a good deal as part of the sign-up-now-bonus! package. After two-plus years of fighting bunny ears, we were paying what I saw as a fair price for television. The package included digital cable with a gazillion channels, plus HBO and Showtime.
The gazillion channels I could probably do without, but HBO and Showtime both have a surprising number of excellent shows. None of them ever look good from the previews, but about ten minutes watching any one of them and you are asking yourself simultaneously what the hell is going on? and how have I not been watching this?
Big Love is the spotlight winner for me. Polygamy has never looked so... I'm not sure what the right word is. I'm a bit new to these pay channel shows, but this is the only thing on TV I can think of that both draws you in and pushes you away at the same time - well, maybe VH1's reality shows. All the characters appear underhanded and somewhat evil at one point or another, yet it manages to engulf you into it's chaotic world. It is a pretty amazing feat of storytelling.
I can't say that polygamy ever really intrigued me before, but the show raises a lot of questions. Chief among them is how in the world could someone afford it. I can barely afford living on my own, let alone supporting three families. And with my up-coming nuptials, I kind of like the idea of keeping my options open. Of course, I should mention that Tiff's favorite show was probably Dexter, with it's serial killer protagonist -
The gazillion channels I could probably do without, but HBO and Showtime both have a surprising number of excellent shows. None of them ever look good from the previews, but about ten minutes watching any one of them and you are asking yourself simultaneously what the hell is going on? and how have I not been watching this?
Big Love is the spotlight winner for me. Polygamy has never looked so... I'm not sure what the right word is. I'm a bit new to these pay channel shows, but this is the only thing on TV I can think of that both draws you in and pushes you away at the same time - well, maybe VH1's reality shows. All the characters appear underhanded and somewhat evil at one point or another, yet it manages to engulf you into it's chaotic world. It is a pretty amazing feat of storytelling.
I can't say that polygamy ever really intrigued me before, but the show raises a lot of questions. Chief among them is how in the world could someone afford it. I can barely afford living on my own, let alone supporting three families. And with my up-coming nuptials, I kind of like the idea of keeping my options open. Of course, I should mention that Tiff's favorite show was probably Dexter, with it's serial killer protagonist -
I'm sure that has nothing to do with our approaching marriage though.Our twelve month introductory rate recently expired. Our bill jumped a hundred dollars. Tiff and I decided we could live without these shows. Or at least wait till they are out on DVD.
We now have the "limited basic" package, which still has three times as many channels as we will ever need. Annoyingly though, we lost the "guide" ability and now we never know what's on. I guess we could check on-line but the computer's always way over there and we're way over here.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Just to Add a Little Spice to Life
Complete and utter global domination. That sounds scary, so I've decided not to set my sights on ruling all of mankind. Instead, I'm expanding my online world and adding another blog to my quickly growing empire. I figure if growth of the Muted Guerrilla continues at this pace, I'll be able to get my own ticker on the stock market. MG is still available!
You know actually that's not that bad of an idea... a blog stock market. "Buy" and "sell" blogs based on how they are doing. I wonder how that would work. It could be called the block market. I'm so clever.
Anyways, I have a feeling this is hopping on some trendy bandwagon of self-moderation but let me present John Duffy's Sacrifices. I'm great with these names... I really am clever. John Duffy's Sacrifices is more of a chronicle of personal challenges in the vein of last year's Egg Challenge egg-speriment, where I'll give up something or add something for a said amount of time and hopefully write about how it's going. I decided to go with sacrifices though because John Duffy's Challenges or Personal Challenges sounds a bit too much like an after-school special. I'll admit sacrifices sounds a bit morbid, so the name could possibly change.
I don't think I ever mentioned that a week after the Egg Challenge I went to the doctor with persistent chest pains. Hmmm... I wonder if the two were linked.
Like the rest of my blog empire, John Duffy's Sacrifices probably will only amuse me, and almost surely will never get too high on the block market, but it should be fun... we'll see.
You know actually that's not that bad of an idea... a blog stock market. "Buy" and "sell" blogs based on how they are doing. I wonder how that would work. It could be called the block market. I'm so clever.
Anyways, I have a feeling this is hopping on some trendy bandwagon of self-moderation but let me present John Duffy's Sacrifices. I'm great with these names... I really am clever. John Duffy's Sacrifices is more of a chronicle of personal challenges in the vein of last year's Egg Challenge egg-speriment, where I'll give up something or add something for a said amount of time and hopefully write about how it's going. I decided to go with sacrifices though because John Duffy's Challenges or Personal Challenges sounds a bit too much like an after-school special. I'll admit sacrifices sounds a bit morbid, so the name could possibly change.
I don't think I ever mentioned that a week after the Egg Challenge I went to the doctor with persistent chest pains. Hmmm... I wonder if the two were linked.
Like the rest of my blog empire, John Duffy's Sacrifices probably will only amuse me, and almost surely will never get too high on the block market, but it should be fun... we'll see.
Friday, September 28, 2007
I'm Getting Married!
I'm getting married! Married to the beautiful future Mrs Tiffany Duffy! And we will have a beautiful future.
I must admit it took me a while to write this post... everything sounded cheesy... or like I was writing wedding vows... when all I want it to say is I'm getting married! I'm getting married! I'm getting married! and maybe have a little picture of me doing backflips with excitement. My head shot would be this picture:
and Tiff's would be this picture:
and your mouths would move like South Park characters, screaming... I'm getting married! I'm getting married! I'm getting married! I'm getting married!
We are running away from the spotlight, traditions, and costs of your typical wedding to get married on the sun-filled beaches of Jamaica.
We leave in 66 days... I'll try and get a fancy countdown clock on the side. For all the details, here's our very own website.
We are still planning to have a Recognition party, because when people get married you better recognize, but we are thinking that instead of January we will shoot for spring when the weather's a bit nicer.
I don't think the merging of the Duffy's and the Hanback's will allow us to challenge the Klingons for inter-galactic supremacy, but it does set the stage for world domination... or at least a long and happy life.
I'm getting married!
I must admit it took me a while to write this post... everything sounded cheesy... or like I was writing wedding vows... when all I want it to say is I'm getting married! I'm getting married! I'm getting married! and maybe have a little picture of me doing backflips with excitement. My head shot would be this picture:
and Tiff's would be this picture:
and your mouths would move like South Park characters, screaming... I'm getting married! I'm getting married! I'm getting married! I'm getting married!
We are running away from the spotlight, traditions, and costs of your typical wedding to get married on the sun-filled beaches of Jamaica.
We leave in 66 days... I'll try and get a fancy countdown clock on the side. For all the details, here's our very own website.We are still planning to have a Recognition party, because when people get married you better recognize, but we are thinking that instead of January we will shoot for spring when the weather's a bit nicer.
I don't think the merging of the Duffy's and the Hanback's will allow us to challenge the Klingons for inter-galactic supremacy, but it does set the stage for world domination... or at least a long and happy life.
I'm getting married!
Thursday, September 27, 2007
It's Written in the Stars
I'm a Yahoo user, mainly because when I first signed up for an email account my name was available on Yahoo... or actually I think it might be Yahoo!. The exclamation mark makes them much more exciting than the other search engines. And well once you pass out your email address to folks, why bother changing? ... or ... why bother changing! Anyways, Yahoo! changed their format a while ago, which is much nicer, and now I can check my email right on the home page! Rah. I can also now check my daily horoscope easy enough that I actually do.
Horoscopes are a strange thing. They are always so mysteriously formal and direct. "A coworker cannot be trusted today." "You will make exciting travel plans today." "Do not be tempted in splurging in expensive items." "Today you can do no wrong. Enjoy it while you can." They are always written as though they should be carrying an exclamation point at the end, not so much in the excitement the Yahoo! evokes but more in an urgent, threatening way. With even the calmer ones it's like the Zodiac is almost challenging you to defy it.
My astrological challenger is the Taurus. Today's reading is more of a celestial bitch-slap: "Certain truths have become too obvious to ignore -- so stop ignoring them today." Oh, O-kay. Don't hurt me. What does it mean? Am I to have a revelation today? I better had... mess with the bull, you get the horns. I hope I don't miss it. There should be a ray of light and angels singing so I know when it's happening.
Horoscopes are a strange thing. They are always so mysteriously formal and direct. "A coworker cannot be trusted today." "You will make exciting travel plans today." "Do not be tempted in splurging in expensive items." "Today you can do no wrong. Enjoy it while you can." They are always written as though they should be carrying an exclamation point at the end, not so much in the excitement the Yahoo! evokes but more in an urgent, threatening way. With even the calmer ones it's like the Zodiac is almost challenging you to defy it.
My astrological challenger is the Taurus. Today's reading is more of a celestial bitch-slap: "Certain truths have become too obvious to ignore -- so stop ignoring them today." Oh, O-kay. Don't hurt me. What does it mean? Am I to have a revelation today? I better had... mess with the bull, you get the horns. I hope I don't miss it. There should be a ray of light and angels singing so I know when it's happening.
The day is half done, and here's my only revelation: Don't put too much stock in the stars.
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