one of my very dearest friends recently decided what she wants to be when she grows up: a mom and a photographer ... and she is exceedingly talented at both!
love ya, deb! much luck!
December 17, 2007
November 15, 2007
i love this
last month, i bought reusable grocery bags that are branded and sold by my favorite local grocery store. they were 99-cents each and i get a nickel credit for each one every time i use them. i figure they will have paid for themselves by the year 2045, but in that time think of all the paper and plastic i'll save.
ok, maybe it's not that much. but it makes me feel like i'm doing something helpful and good and that's the whole point, right? right.
anyway! last week while i was in the "about 15 items only please" line the woman in front of me noticed my bags, had two of her own, and commented on how handy she finds them for all sorts of things. i small talked with her for a moment and in that time she decided to buy two more.
as the clerk was checking her out (eew, not like that) the bag boy asked the famous grocery store question. "paper or plastic?"
[remember: four reusable bags]
i didn't hear exactly what she said and apparently neither did he because he came back with, "you want me to put everything in plastic bags and then put them in paper? don't you want to use those?"
he pointed at her reusable bags.
she said no.
i did what i could to not laugh out loud.
and there she went ... out the door with a cart full of paper and plastic, and a bunch of environmentally-friendly containers buried somewhere in the mix.
it was awesome.
ok, maybe it's not that much. but it makes me feel like i'm doing something helpful and good and that's the whole point, right? right.
anyway! last week while i was in the "about 15 items only please" line the woman in front of me noticed my bags, had two of her own, and commented on how handy she finds them for all sorts of things. i small talked with her for a moment and in that time she decided to buy two more.
as the clerk was checking her out (eew, not like that) the bag boy asked the famous grocery store question. "paper or plastic?"
[remember: four reusable bags]
i didn't hear exactly what she said and apparently neither did he because he came back with, "you want me to put everything in plastic bags and then put them in paper? don't you want to use those?"
he pointed at her reusable bags.
she said no.
i did what i could to not laugh out loud.
and there she went ... out the door with a cart full of paper and plastic, and a bunch of environmentally-friendly containers buried somewhere in the mix.
it was awesome.
November 12, 2007
don't even try to beat 'em anymore
this has already happened to you, i'm sure: you're innocently sitting at a red light. some loser who has giant speakers in his trunk pulls up next to you. no matter how loudly you curse, all you can hear is the constant thudding, and your own car is quivering along.
this hasn't happened to you yet, but it could: you're driving thru DC and manage to run a red light. a police car that sounds like it's some loser who has giant speakers in his trunk pulls up behind you. all you can hear despite your cursing is the constant thudding, and your own car is quivering along.
it's called the rumbler and it's law enforcement's new way of getting you to pull over when you've committed a traffic violation. apparently our nation's ADD has gotten so bad that we're failing to notice when the police are trying to flag us down.
lights are no longer enough.
sirens are no longer enough.
we need to be shaken into consciousness.
we're so busy being stuck in the bubble that is our world, we can't be troubled to pay attention to outside forces. but, are we handling it the right way?
the rumbler was created, essentially, to get us to put down our cell phones. we like to be in constant contact with at least one other human, so we must always be talking or texting -- and if it puts those around us at risk, so be it. right?
call me crazy, but i thought that was the kind of activity the police were supposed to help prevent.
you know, "reckless driving."
instead, they're going to allow you, fearless driver, to text the person sitting in the backseat of your car while you have your iPod headphones on at full tilt. these are acceptable driving procedures. but if you add 75 in a 65 to that list, consider yourself rumbled.
that's assuming, of course, that you're not one of those losers with the giant speakers in your trunk. in that case, you should be tasered.
i could be wrong, but i think val's brother once got a ticket because his car radio was too loud. he should ask for his money back.
this hasn't happened to you yet, but it could: you're driving thru DC and manage to run a red light. a police car that sounds like it's some loser who has giant speakers in his trunk pulls up behind you. all you can hear despite your cursing is the constant thudding, and your own car is quivering along.
it's called the rumbler and it's law enforcement's new way of getting you to pull over when you've committed a traffic violation. apparently our nation's ADD has gotten so bad that we're failing to notice when the police are trying to flag us down.
lights are no longer enough.
sirens are no longer enough.
we need to be shaken into consciousness.
we're so busy being stuck in the bubble that is our world, we can't be troubled to pay attention to outside forces. but, are we handling it the right way?
the rumbler was created, essentially, to get us to put down our cell phones. we like to be in constant contact with at least one other human, so we must always be talking or texting -- and if it puts those around us at risk, so be it. right?
call me crazy, but i thought that was the kind of activity the police were supposed to help prevent.
you know, "reckless driving."
instead, they're going to allow you, fearless driver, to text the person sitting in the backseat of your car while you have your iPod headphones on at full tilt. these are acceptable driving procedures. but if you add 75 in a 65 to that list, consider yourself rumbled.
that's assuming, of course, that you're not one of those losers with the giant speakers in your trunk. in that case, you should be tasered.
i could be wrong, but i think val's brother once got a ticket because his car radio was too loud. he should ask for his money back.
October 17, 2007
throwing money
i don't know about you, but i think saving the planet is a good idea. whether global warming is a human-induced problem or something that's happening naturally -- whatever. if we can at least try to fix it, let's at least try to fix it.
we don't really want to be extinct, do we? i realize the nightly news does nothing but report contradictions of what is probably a negative answer to that question, but from the perspective of "life in general" isn't it in our own best interest to keep on keepin' on?
face it, if life ceases to exist on planet earth either next year, the year after or 274 years after, there'll be nothing cool to do around here anymore ... no netflix, no black friday, no corn mazes, no public wayne newton appearances.
bor - ing
to melodramatically quote a melodramatic fake president, "we are faced with the gravest of challenges ... and yet, for the first time in the history of the planet, a species has the technology to prevent its own extinction."
fab! so, what can we do? well, the tree huggers say we should drive hybrid cars, replace all of our light bulbs and generally be more energy efficient. they probably also think that we should live in totally organic, self-sufficient communities where we weave our own clothes, grow our own food and fall asleep around campfires with the furry, friendly woodland creatures who also pitch in. come on.
i like the idea of replacing incandescent light with fluorescent. it's not flattering, nor is it cheap, but it does do ... i don't know, something good i guess. i also like the idea of hybrid cars ... they don't accelerate very quickly, nor are they cheap but they emit toxins that aren't quite as damaging as the ones other cars emit. and i like the idea of being energy efficient because that means i get a tax break on the expensive heat pump i had to install last year. it says "energy efficient" all over it, man.
clearly, i don't understand the subtleties when it comes to saving the planet, but i still want to help. fortunately, the tree huggers have a solution for people like me; however, i don't understand it either.
to continue the fake president's words, "all of you praying with us need to know that everything that can be done to prevent this disaster is being called into service."
adultery you say? that's a million hail mary's and a generous donation to the diocese.
sooooo ... driving an SUV might not be as punishable as adultery, but stretch with me please.
i don't think i'll be contributing to the carbon fund ... it feels too much like some kind of money laundering and it can't produce very good karma -- it's ok that i have smokestack in my backyard b/c i write a check to mother earth every month.
awesome ... way to get involved, john mayer.
we don't really want to be extinct, do we? i realize the nightly news does nothing but report contradictions of what is probably a negative answer to that question, but from the perspective of "life in general" isn't it in our own best interest to keep on keepin' on?
face it, if life ceases to exist on planet earth either next year, the year after or 274 years after, there'll be nothing cool to do around here anymore ... no netflix, no black friday, no corn mazes, no public wayne newton appearances.
bor - ing
to melodramatically quote a melodramatic fake president, "we are faced with the gravest of challenges ... and yet, for the first time in the history of the planet, a species has the technology to prevent its own extinction."
fab! so, what can we do? well, the tree huggers say we should drive hybrid cars, replace all of our light bulbs and generally be more energy efficient. they probably also think that we should live in totally organic, self-sufficient communities where we weave our own clothes, grow our own food and fall asleep around campfires with the furry, friendly woodland creatures who also pitch in. come on.
i like the idea of replacing incandescent light with fluorescent. it's not flattering, nor is it cheap, but it does do ... i don't know, something good i guess. i also like the idea of hybrid cars ... they don't accelerate very quickly, nor are they cheap but they emit toxins that aren't quite as damaging as the ones other cars emit. and i like the idea of being energy efficient because that means i get a tax break on the expensive heat pump i had to install last year. it says "energy efficient" all over it, man.
clearly, i don't understand the subtleties when it comes to saving the planet, but i still want to help. fortunately, the tree huggers have a solution for people like me; however, i don't understand it either.
to continue the fake president's words, "all of you praying with us need to know that everything that can be done to prevent this disaster is being called into service."
- the goal: reduce carbon emissions
- the plan: give away your money
adultery you say? that's a million hail mary's and a generous donation to the diocese.
sooooo ... driving an SUV might not be as punishable as adultery, but stretch with me please.
i don't think i'll be contributing to the carbon fund ... it feels too much like some kind of money laundering and it can't produce very good karma -- it's ok that i have smokestack in my backyard b/c i write a check to mother earth every month.
awesome ... way to get involved, john mayer.
June 26, 2007
there's a double meaning in that
i saw a commercial for something - i don't know what ... maybe comcast? it all kind of blurs together these days. anyway, in the commercial there's a TV that's flipping, flipping, flipping through channels, and the person flipping is lucky enough that what's being said on the next channel builds perfectly on what was said on the previous one ... and put together, there's a cohesive thought. amazing!
it's like when you're watching NBC and you turn to CBS and both stations are showing the same commercial and it's in the same place.
no, it's not really like that at all. but you know what i mean.
i don't have cable, but i do have a whopping 6 channels so i thought i'd try my luck at flipping channels in search of something rational.
here's what i got:
"they go to the movies ok anne marie *music* it's the largest frame i've ever seen you painted over the i'm all for that besides college already i don't think i am jesus loves me look at the hair."
i haven't figured out all of the punctuation yet ... but i think i'm on to something.
it's like when you're watching NBC and you turn to CBS and both stations are showing the same commercial and it's in the same place.
no, it's not really like that at all. but you know what i mean.
i don't have cable, but i do have a whopping 6 channels so i thought i'd try my luck at flipping channels in search of something rational.
here's what i got:
"they go to the movies ok anne marie *music* it's the largest frame i've ever seen you painted over the i'm all for that besides college already i don't think i am jesus loves me look at the hair."
i haven't figured out all of the punctuation yet ... but i think i'm on to something.
June 19, 2007
have mercy
the van next to me could not have expressed my thoughts any more perfectly.
when i got in my car this morning, i discovered that i only had enough gas to get to work. for the first two miles of my commute, i debated stopping at the local petrol station and decided to, as nike would say, just do it since i likely wouldn't want to on my way home when i was hungry and it was 100 degrees out and all i wanted to do was wash my hair.
a creature of habit, i go to the same station 90% of the time. you may be able to imagine my surprise at hearing a booming voice yelling at me from a tiny speaker about the benefits of gas cards and fountain drinks the moment my card was accepted … "did you know that right now you could be earning valuable points toward your next gas purchase?!?"
whose idea was this? are we so dependent on media that we can't enjoy a semi-peaceful moment pumping gas without suffering through a commercial for the station we're currently patronizing?
fortunately, i spied the mute button on the obnoxious speaker. unfortunately, i pressed it. all that awarded me was a beep to accompany all the yelling. actually, it awarded me about a dozen beeps because i couldn't figure out why someone would install a mute button if they didn't intend for it to mute things. it's like at work when IT installs something that requires a reboot … you get the message that says "you must restart your computer in order for the changes to take effect. would you like to restart now?" and the "no" is grayed out.
eventually my tank filled and i reentered the sanctuary of my car where i enjoyed the relative quiet for a moment before turning on chrome.
as i drove away, i noticed the big white van two pumps over. it had dark blue stenciling that simply read, "CHRIST."
when i got in my car this morning, i discovered that i only had enough gas to get to work. for the first two miles of my commute, i debated stopping at the local petrol station and decided to, as nike would say, just do it since i likely wouldn't want to on my way home when i was hungry and it was 100 degrees out and all i wanted to do was wash my hair.
a creature of habit, i go to the same station 90% of the time. you may be able to imagine my surprise at hearing a booming voice yelling at me from a tiny speaker about the benefits of gas cards and fountain drinks the moment my card was accepted … "did you know that right now you could be earning valuable points toward your next gas purchase?!?"
whose idea was this? are we so dependent on media that we can't enjoy a semi-peaceful moment pumping gas without suffering through a commercial for the station we're currently patronizing?
fortunately, i spied the mute button on the obnoxious speaker. unfortunately, i pressed it. all that awarded me was a beep to accompany all the yelling. actually, it awarded me about a dozen beeps because i couldn't figure out why someone would install a mute button if they didn't intend for it to mute things. it's like at work when IT installs something that requires a reboot … you get the message that says "you must restart your computer in order for the changes to take effect. would you like to restart now?" and the "no" is grayed out.
eventually my tank filled and i reentered the sanctuary of my car where i enjoyed the relative quiet for a moment before turning on chrome.
as i drove away, i noticed the big white van two pumps over. it had dark blue stenciling that simply read, "CHRIST."
June 17, 2007
it is done
in only 3.5 months, i watched the chronology of james bond. for the most part, it was extremely enjoyable ... tho, there was a time in the roger moore stint that made me weary, which was expected.
in 007 film, there are a bunch of elements you can count on:
... and i know what you're going to say: "you're just saying you didn't like daniel craig because he has blonde hair and blue eyes."
in the words of my grandfather, i say: "rubbish!"
i didn't like daniel craig because he didn't open his mouth when he spoke and he displayed all the zest and charm of a stop sign. he would have been awesome if james bond was more like ... i don't know ... the terminator. or robocop. i definitely vote for him in the robocop remakes - altho he'll probably have to out audition peter weller for it, and runs an excellent chance of losing anyway.
bond is an action hero, but he's more than an action hero. he is also more than a suave bottle of charm, which no one told moore. had someone put him and craig in a blender, they would have ended up with a pretty decent bond. but that's not actually necessary as long as brosnan is around.
next up: the muppet show season 1!
in 007 film, there are a bunch of elements you can count on:
- an insane villain bent on world domination (or economic destruction ... you know, that kind of thing)
- a double-cross
- puns in the face of doom
- skiing, boating and/or scuba diving
- a fancy watch
- exotic locations
- exotic women
- gambling
- sharks!
- pierce brosnan
- george lazenby
- sean connery
- timothy dalton
- roger moore
- daniel craig
... and i know what you're going to say: "you're just saying you didn't like daniel craig because he has blonde hair and blue eyes."
in the words of my grandfather, i say: "rubbish!"
i didn't like daniel craig because he didn't open his mouth when he spoke and he displayed all the zest and charm of a stop sign. he would have been awesome if james bond was more like ... i don't know ... the terminator. or robocop. i definitely vote for him in the robocop remakes - altho he'll probably have to out audition peter weller for it, and runs an excellent chance of losing anyway.
bond is an action hero, but he's more than an action hero. he is also more than a suave bottle of charm, which no one told moore. had someone put him and craig in a blender, they would have ended up with a pretty decent bond. but that's not actually necessary as long as brosnan is around.
next up: the muppet show season 1!
June 6, 2007
just some good 'ol boys
i'm sitting at the light on the corner of route 156 and a million campaign signs remembering that june 12 is an election day. how exciting will the election be? well, i'll tell you.
the county is looking for a commonwealth's attorney this time around and the candidates are relentless. three of them are fighting over this particular corner, which quite frankly isn't the busiest of corners. it's kind of hidden in back roads wooded suburbia. the candidates must live nearby. yeah, i'm sure it's near the homes of ...
kirby, rusty and trip.
it's definitely a local race, eh? it's also a good thing i don't live in that county. i wouldn't know who to write-in ...
maybe buck, skippy or mac.
or carl.
the county is looking for a commonwealth's attorney this time around and the candidates are relentless. three of them are fighting over this particular corner, which quite frankly isn't the busiest of corners. it's kind of hidden in back roads wooded suburbia. the candidates must live nearby. yeah, i'm sure it's near the homes of ...
kirby, rusty and trip.
it's definitely a local race, eh? it's also a good thing i don't live in that county. i wouldn't know who to write-in ...
maybe buck, skippy or mac.
or carl.
May 24, 2007
pandora's box
yesterday i had the opportunity to tell someone exactly what i thought of him ... and i took it.
typically, i'm a diplomat. in my job, i spend a fair amount of time negotiating and being apathetic. i've become extremely adept (if i do say so myself, thank you) at telling people that they can't have what they want without causing [much of] a stir ... often, they end up thanking me. it rocks.
however, because of my genetic make-up, being nice all the time takes a lot out of me. it's like in dirk gently's holistic detective agency when the ghost of gordon way is trying to be noticed. he simply must let someone know that he still exists, but any form of materialization takes a great deal of energy and leaves him exhausted.
to prevent myself from being exhausted by all of the nice, i find ways to blow off a little steam between bouts of smiling and accommodation. for example, at the end of a perfectly pleasant phone conversation that ends the way i wanted it to, i may hang up the phone, wipe the happy expression off my face - on the phone, it's easy to tell if someone is smiling - and mutter, "idiot." then all is balanced.
would i ever call someone an idiot to their face? only if we're related by blood or friendship. most everyone else is out of bounds ... until i'm beyond fed up. this last part was yesterday's discovery.
i'll spare you the details, but tell you this ... this may be a turning point. i wasn't going to be charmed or guilted, but i was going to stand up for myself and not censor my feelings for the sake of someone else's.
every time he said, "sorry" i said "thank you."
it felt amazing.
i want to do it again.
typically, i'm a diplomat. in my job, i spend a fair amount of time negotiating and being apathetic. i've become extremely adept (if i do say so myself, thank you) at telling people that they can't have what they want without causing [much of] a stir ... often, they end up thanking me. it rocks.
however, because of my genetic make-up, being nice all the time takes a lot out of me. it's like in dirk gently's holistic detective agency when the ghost of gordon way is trying to be noticed. he simply must let someone know that he still exists, but any form of materialization takes a great deal of energy and leaves him exhausted.
to prevent myself from being exhausted by all of the nice, i find ways to blow off a little steam between bouts of smiling and accommodation. for example, at the end of a perfectly pleasant phone conversation that ends the way i wanted it to, i may hang up the phone, wipe the happy expression off my face - on the phone, it's easy to tell if someone is smiling - and mutter, "idiot." then all is balanced.
would i ever call someone an idiot to their face? only if we're related by blood or friendship. most everyone else is out of bounds ... until i'm beyond fed up. this last part was yesterday's discovery.
i'll spare you the details, but tell you this ... this may be a turning point. i wasn't going to be charmed or guilted, but i was going to stand up for myself and not censor my feelings for the sake of someone else's.
every time he said, "sorry" i said "thank you."
it felt amazing.
i want to do it again.
May 10, 2007
what a nerd
it's saturday nite and i'm watching Antiques Roadshow.
there are all these old people getting estimates on all their old things and i'm looking around my little house wondering what i'd take to the Roadshow ... and there really isn't anything ... and then i start thinking about a conversation alicia and i had a while back about the death of the sitcom.
since the advent of reality, we've been witnessing the last, sad gasps of the situation. (e.g., exhibit A, exhibit B) sure, the Roadshow is probably considered reality, but it's educational and interesting. there's no plotting or scheming and no one gets hurt or goes hungry or loses their job or their self respect.
all they do is dig around in their attic or their neighbor's yard sale and apparently stand in line for hours and hours to find out if they have junk or some kind of national treasure. hmmmmmmm ... i wonder what that ratio is. and then i worry.
is Antiques Roadshow doomed? will mass production and knock-off merchandising choke our sense of originality and value? in 150 years, no one's gonna be interested in finding the sterling silver necklace that i bought at kohl's or the press board entertainment center that's holding up my TV. if they do find it, they won't have to worry about decreasing it's value by refinishing it.
maybe while they're digging around in the dirt, they'll find my toolbox. believe me, there's nothing interesting in there. except, of course, for the level i bought at the dollar store ... can anyone really trust it? maybe that'll make it a novelty.
how many pieces of handmade clothing do you own? do you have any personal correspondence of anyone of note? where did your dining room table come from? what about your "oriental" rugs?
i'm guessing the answers are none , no, and home depot. not that there's anything wrong with that. pretty much everything i own came from target, bed bath and beyond, and hecht's before it turned into stupid macy's.
so, we're not craftsmen anymore.
well, some of us are ... alicia's great-grandchildren will have some pretty valuable antiques ...
anyway! we don't live in dust bowls or harvest our own food, find drugs fashionable, or chop down trees in the interest of building our own furniture. instead, we listen to iPods, play video games, send email, and sometimes we even blog.
i don't think the Roadshow is doomed. i really just think in 20 years time, we'll start seeing the turn toward electronic antiques. by the time the conversion is complete, the appraisers will all have long hair, pale skin and appear to be uncomfortable with the lighting ... and the show will be filmed in a warehouse basement.
it's gonna be great.
i hope that when my grandkids (ha!) decide to go, they hit up their great uncle who will have the room brimming with the history of technology. who else is still going to have the Apple IIe with Swashbuckler and Castle Wolfenstein?
actually, i do know who else ... and his baby girl is going to be rich!
all i really have to offer is a scratched up cell phone and a VCR that won't record or rewind. i may never have the chance to take or send anything, but that won't stop me from watching.
i'm so glad i have plans every saturday nite for the rest of my life ... that's a load off.
there are all these old people getting estimates on all their old things and i'm looking around my little house wondering what i'd take to the Roadshow ... and there really isn't anything ... and then i start thinking about a conversation alicia and i had a while back about the death of the sitcom.
since the advent of reality, we've been witnessing the last, sad gasps of the situation. (e.g., exhibit A, exhibit B) sure, the Roadshow is probably considered reality, but it's educational and interesting. there's no plotting or scheming and no one gets hurt or goes hungry or loses their job or their self respect.
all they do is dig around in their attic or their neighbor's yard sale and apparently stand in line for hours and hours to find out if they have junk or some kind of national treasure. hmmmmmmm ... i wonder what that ratio is. and then i worry.
is Antiques Roadshow doomed? will mass production and knock-off merchandising choke our sense of originality and value? in 150 years, no one's gonna be interested in finding the sterling silver necklace that i bought at kohl's or the press board entertainment center that's holding up my TV. if they do find it, they won't have to worry about decreasing it's value by refinishing it.
maybe while they're digging around in the dirt, they'll find my toolbox. believe me, there's nothing interesting in there. except, of course, for the level i bought at the dollar store ... can anyone really trust it? maybe that'll make it a novelty.
how many pieces of handmade clothing do you own? do you have any personal correspondence of anyone of note? where did your dining room table come from? what about your "oriental" rugs?
i'm guessing the answers are none , no, and home depot. not that there's anything wrong with that. pretty much everything i own came from target, bed bath and beyond, and hecht's before it turned into stupid macy's.
so, we're not craftsmen anymore.
well, some of us are ... alicia's great-grandchildren will have some pretty valuable antiques ...
anyway! we don't live in dust bowls or harvest our own food, find drugs fashionable, or chop down trees in the interest of building our own furniture. instead, we listen to iPods, play video games, send email, and sometimes we even blog.
i don't think the Roadshow is doomed. i really just think in 20 years time, we'll start seeing the turn toward electronic antiques. by the time the conversion is complete, the appraisers will all have long hair, pale skin and appear to be uncomfortable with the lighting ... and the show will be filmed in a warehouse basement.
it's gonna be great.
i hope that when my grandkids (ha!) decide to go, they hit up their great uncle who will have the room brimming with the history of technology. who else is still going to have the Apple IIe with Swashbuckler and Castle Wolfenstein?
actually, i do know who else ... and his baby girl is going to be rich!
all i really have to offer is a scratched up cell phone and a VCR that won't record or rewind. i may never have the chance to take or send anything, but that won't stop me from watching.
i'm so glad i have plans every saturday nite for the rest of my life ... that's a load off.
March 19, 2007
February 26, 2007
this may qualify as cause to ration my toothpaste
today i learned an important lesson about homeland security:
it's not about how much liquid or gel is in the container; its about the size of the container that holds the liquid or gel.
what? is this for real? why didn't anyone say that in the first place?
what this tells me is that if i were to pack liquid explosives in my carry on baggage (really ... why would i ever want to do that? i have a puppy, and i want her to see me grow old), i could get away with filling a quart-sized bag with little bottles full of explosive material as long as those bottles held no more than 3.4 ounces of said material. when you account for the space the bottle takes up and some air, you could probably squeeze about 18 ounces of actual liquid into that bag.
i don't know anything about explosives ... but does that sound like a lot? it sounds like kind of a lot.
don't worry ... i'm not thinking about doing anything destructive. unless, of course, having friends over for dinner this weekend counts as harmful ... actually, the jury's still out on that. i'm simply irritated that, without giving me a chance to fully explain my side, the patronizing TSA agent removed my toothpaste from my one-quart ziploc bag and threw it in the garbage can behind her while i was putting my shoes back on.
"ma'am, you can't have this toothpaste. you just can't," she said opening the bag and removing the rolled up tube.
"but there's only a little bit left ... less than any of the other liquids in the bag."
"it's too much toothpaste. see how big the tube is? you can't have it."
"i see," and i watched it go into the trash.
"have a nice flight."
"thanks."
sodding terrorists. don't they know how expensive airport toothpaste is?
it's not about how much liquid or gel is in the container; its about the size of the container that holds the liquid or gel.
what? is this for real? why didn't anyone say that in the first place?
what this tells me is that if i were to pack liquid explosives in my carry on baggage (really ... why would i ever want to do that? i have a puppy, and i want her to see me grow old), i could get away with filling a quart-sized bag with little bottles full of explosive material as long as those bottles held no more than 3.4 ounces of said material. when you account for the space the bottle takes up and some air, you could probably squeeze about 18 ounces of actual liquid into that bag.
i don't know anything about explosives ... but does that sound like a lot? it sounds like kind of a lot.
don't worry ... i'm not thinking about doing anything destructive. unless, of course, having friends over for dinner this weekend counts as harmful ... actually, the jury's still out on that. i'm simply irritated that, without giving me a chance to fully explain my side, the patronizing TSA agent removed my toothpaste from my one-quart ziploc bag and threw it in the garbage can behind her while i was putting my shoes back on.
"ma'am, you can't have this toothpaste. you just can't," she said opening the bag and removing the rolled up tube.
"but there's only a little bit left ... less than any of the other liquids in the bag."
"it's too much toothpaste. see how big the tube is? you can't have it."
"i see," and i watched it go into the trash.
"have a nice flight."
"thanks."
sodding terrorists. don't they know how expensive airport toothpaste is?
February 25, 2007
that's classy
the ritz may have fluffy pillows and comforters. it may have a phone in the bathroom, two thick terrycloth robes, and a pair of warm slippers for your use. it may also have a wooden chest full of exotic coffees and teas, a scale that tells you you're five pounds lighter than you actually are, and a tray full of chocolates just waiting for you to check in.
but it also has a wireless network that costs $6 for 15 minutes and charges other rooms when you access it, low-flow shower heads that make you look like that one episode of seinfeld, a clock radio that doesn't have an evident "off" button, and a fuzzy "hotel services" TV station that makes it almost impossible to read as you're trying to take advantage of video check out.
also, despite the enthusiastic doorman wearing the top hat, the ritz also has awful customer service ... world class awful.
"we don't have your reservation, you can use the phone over there to call another hotel."
"oops, here it is."
i don't see an apology there.
but it also has a wireless network that costs $6 for 15 minutes and charges other rooms when you access it, low-flow shower heads that make you look like that one episode of seinfeld, a clock radio that doesn't have an evident "off" button, and a fuzzy "hotel services" TV station that makes it almost impossible to read as you're trying to take advantage of video check out.
also, despite the enthusiastic doorman wearing the top hat, the ritz also has awful customer service ... world class awful.
"we don't have your reservation, you can use the phone over there to call another hotel."
"oops, here it is."
i don't see an apology there.
February 13, 2007
upstairs, downstairs
listen ... do you hear that? it's the sound of my hair coming out at the root by my own hand.
"c'mon," i said. "let's go downstairs for dinner." and she followed.
"c'mon," i said. "let's go outside." and she followed.
it was a miracle. that's right ... a miracle.
a month ago, the doorbell rang and chaos ensued. i don't know anyone who's ever gotten that excited about pizza, but zoey was. two steps down the case, she missed her footing and slid the rest of the way down with her poor little front legs sticking out in front of her. at the bottom, she slammed into the front door. [note: i've done a similar thing. it's painful, and i wasn't nearly as resilient.]
as you may imagine, my heart stopped ... and i'm pretty sure it stopped for a good three seconds. had i not been so worried about those poor little front legs, i would have been able to report what happens when we die. i apologize to all of humanity for this incredible disservice. the good news is, there was no breakage ... merely a small cut that was easily cleaned and no other damage. or so i thought.
fast forward three weeks.
having tried absolutely everything i could think of to get zoey to come down the stairs, a night in the kennel seems to have worked. no longer am i opening doors, putting on jackets and boots, carrying around leashes as i pretend to leave the house. the separation anxiety is there ... i gotta play all my cards. for a while pretending to take out the trash worked unbelievably easy ... all i had to do was open the trash can, shake the edge of the bag and slap a sneaker sole on the kitchen floor and she'd be down.
but now, she's back to just following me down, which is fabulous.
until this morning ... when she slipped on the last three stairs.
i don't want to go in that door. i really don't.
"c'mon," i said. "let's go downstairs for dinner." and she followed.
"c'mon," i said. "let's go outside." and she followed.
it was a miracle. that's right ... a miracle.
a month ago, the doorbell rang and chaos ensued. i don't know anyone who's ever gotten that excited about pizza, but zoey was. two steps down the case, she missed her footing and slid the rest of the way down with her poor little front legs sticking out in front of her. at the bottom, she slammed into the front door. [note: i've done a similar thing. it's painful, and i wasn't nearly as resilient.]
as you may imagine, my heart stopped ... and i'm pretty sure it stopped for a good three seconds. had i not been so worried about those poor little front legs, i would have been able to report what happens when we die. i apologize to all of humanity for this incredible disservice. the good news is, there was no breakage ... merely a small cut that was easily cleaned and no other damage. or so i thought.
fast forward three weeks.
having tried absolutely everything i could think of to get zoey to come down the stairs, a night in the kennel seems to have worked. no longer am i opening doors, putting on jackets and boots, carrying around leashes as i pretend to leave the house. the separation anxiety is there ... i gotta play all my cards. for a while pretending to take out the trash worked unbelievably easy ... all i had to do was open the trash can, shake the edge of the bag and slap a sneaker sole on the kitchen floor and she'd be down.
but now, she's back to just following me down, which is fabulous.
until this morning ... when she slipped on the last three stairs.
i don't want to go in that door. i really don't.
February 9, 2007
movin' on up
i heard a furniture store commercial that led me to believe that an intern swapped the business case document with the ad copy ... and then no one noticed:
"the more we lower prices, the more mattresses we'll sell this weekend at haynes."
they probably promoted him. that's how it works, you know.
"the more we lower prices, the more mattresses we'll sell this weekend at haynes."
they probably promoted him. that's how it works, you know.
February 4, 2007
you're getting warmer
up for a scary movie? you bet! i may have shied away from the texas chainsaw massacre at christmas, but that was only because it didn't seem festive. cars was a better choice. an even better choice would have been nacho libre ... but that's just me.
on any day other than the one on which most of us celebrate the fact that we can all get an approved line of credit: bring on the blood and gore.
it's important to note that i don't watch scary movies by myself. when i'm alone and it's dark and aliens and zombies are falling thru ceilings or showing up under porches, i tend to let my imagination run riot. i end up unable to look in the bathroom mirror - who knows what the heck is going to jump out of that thing - or to sit near an open door to a dark room - who knows what the heck is going to jump out of that thing, either.
speaking of gore ... not knowing exactly what i was getting into, i popped in an inconvenient truth last nite.
holy hell. we are sacrificing not only ourselves but also the existence of all life on the planet in the name of "progress". we're perpetuating our own demise and mother earth is doing what she has to do in order to save what she can of herself.
it's kind of like when i convinced debi to get her belly button pierced.
with a click and a scream, there it was. debi spent the next few weeks doing what she could to help the wound heal ... and, well, it never did. what appeared to be healing was actually rejection. her body decided that the foreign substance was harmful to its careful balance and of its own volition, forced the ring out.
in the seemingly infinite life of the earth, the last 40 years are equivalent to the click and scream. carbon dioxide is the unbalancing substance. we're getting ourselves forced out.
already, thousands of people are dying because of the climate changes we've unwittingly caused. people are dying in unnatural heat waves, hurricanes, tornadoes and floods. soon enough, millions of people in costal regions such as, say, florida, will be displaced. what do we do with them? we've already had to relocate new orleans.
i read a BC comic strip in which BC says, "if man keeps polluting the air, how will future generations breathe?" and thor responds, "through their gills."
the strip was written in 1967.
this isn't jumping out from behind anything. it's more like the fog ... rolling in slowly so you don't notice it and then before you realize anything is wrong, hal's at your door with his hook ...
thwack!
on any day other than the one on which most of us celebrate the fact that we can all get an approved line of credit: bring on the blood and gore.
it's important to note that i don't watch scary movies by myself. when i'm alone and it's dark and aliens and zombies are falling thru ceilings or showing up under porches, i tend to let my imagination run riot. i end up unable to look in the bathroom mirror - who knows what the heck is going to jump out of that thing - or to sit near an open door to a dark room - who knows what the heck is going to jump out of that thing, either.
speaking of gore ... not knowing exactly what i was getting into, i popped in an inconvenient truth last nite.
holy hell. we are sacrificing not only ourselves but also the existence of all life on the planet in the name of "progress". we're perpetuating our own demise and mother earth is doing what she has to do in order to save what she can of herself.
it's kind of like when i convinced debi to get her belly button pierced.
with a click and a scream, there it was. debi spent the next few weeks doing what she could to help the wound heal ... and, well, it never did. what appeared to be healing was actually rejection. her body decided that the foreign substance was harmful to its careful balance and of its own volition, forced the ring out.
in the seemingly infinite life of the earth, the last 40 years are equivalent to the click and scream. carbon dioxide is the unbalancing substance. we're getting ourselves forced out.
already, thousands of people are dying because of the climate changes we've unwittingly caused. people are dying in unnatural heat waves, hurricanes, tornadoes and floods. soon enough, millions of people in costal regions such as, say, florida, will be displaced. what do we do with them? we've already had to relocate new orleans.
i read a BC comic strip in which BC says, "if man keeps polluting the air, how will future generations breathe?" and thor responds, "through their gills."
the strip was written in 1967.
this isn't jumping out from behind anything. it's more like the fog ... rolling in slowly so you don't notice it and then before you realize anything is wrong, hal's at your door with his hook ...
thwack!
February 2, 2007
prognosticator of prognosticators
when i was a kid, my family had a hamster. apparently we started out with a hamster and a gerbil, but the gerbil chewed away most of the insides of the yellow plastic habitrail (doing unspeakable damage to the large exercise wheel) and we couldn't keep her. i want to say she also chewed on her roommate, but don't quote me on that.
regardless, there was only one gerbil and i don't remember her name.
but! the hamster's name was mark. i remember because ...
the next hamster's name was mark. and ...
the next hamster's name was mark. and ...
his successor was also named mark.
this could go on another four or five times as the succession of mark was a long one. i don't know for sure how many there were because i was just little and suffered a short time from injuries sustained after being pushed down the stairs ... but that's a story for another day.
the point, if you haven't yet guessed, is that we had lots of hamsters named mark. if we'd taken any pictures of them, you'd never be able to tell which was which. yes, they were that identical.
that's the beauty of rodents.
i wonder how many punxsutawney phil's there have been.
[note: we also had goldfish named merrill, lynch, pierce, fenner, and smith]
regardless, there was only one gerbil and i don't remember her name.
but! the hamster's name was mark. i remember because ...
the next hamster's name was mark. and ...
the next hamster's name was mark. and ...
his successor was also named mark.
this could go on another four or five times as the succession of mark was a long one. i don't know for sure how many there were because i was just little and suffered a short time from injuries sustained after being pushed down the stairs ... but that's a story for another day.
the point, if you haven't yet guessed, is that we had lots of hamsters named mark. if we'd taken any pictures of them, you'd never be able to tell which was which. yes, they were that identical.
that's the beauty of rodents.
i wonder how many punxsutawney phil's there have been.
[note: we also had goldfish named merrill, lynch, pierce, fenner, and smith]
January 24, 2007
probably the last place you'd expect to see chris rice lyrics
this was recently shared with me, and i wanted to share it with you ...
Every day is a journal page
Every man holds a quill and ink
And there's plenty of room for writing in
All we do is believe and think
So will you compose a curse
Or will today bring the blessing
Fill the page with rhyming verse
Or some random sketching
Teach us to count the days
Teach us to make the days count
Lead us in better ways
That somehow our souls forgot
Life means so much
Every day is a journal page
Every man holds a quill and ink
And there's plenty of room for writing in
All we do is believe and think
So will you compose a curse
Or will today bring the blessing
Fill the page with rhyming verse
Or some random sketching
Teach us to count the days
Teach us to make the days count
Lead us in better ways
That somehow our souls forgot
Life means so much
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