Written on Saturday, the 31st of December, 2005 at 11:25 am and was filed under:
Diversions
At first there was only canned music — happy riffing on a Hammond B3 while a guitarist and rhythm section funked it up — then the line clicked and a woman answered.
“Thank you for calling Kohl’s,” she said.
“Yeah, I’m curious what your hours will be tomorrow,” I stated. The line went deathly silent. I assumed that I we were honoring the memory of some fallen hero and waited breathlessly. After a while it occurred to me that we might have been disconnected.
“Hello?” I asked hesitantly.
“I… actually have no idea when we’re open tomorrow,” she laughed and answered.
“So… will you be open at all tomorrow?” I asked. If ever there were a justification to torture someone to get an answer, this was it.
“Oh, we’ll be open, I just don’t know when.”
So, tomorrow Cake Woman and I will be finding a pair of pants to replace the Dickies that she didn’t like, partly because “those will be so hot in the summer that you will get dick rot.” Also, I don’t think that they showcase my hot ass to her satisfaction. (Smack! I don’t think you’re ready for this jelly!) Considering that I have a pair of pants to return, $6 left on my gift card, a square of paper proclaiming that it is $10 in “Kohl’s cash,” and theoretically a 15% off coupon, I will probably be able to buy the entire clearance rack in my size, which is 36x30, or really, 36x28, but I can never find pants that short since anything shorter than 30 seems to just have children’s sizing information, like S, M, L, Husky. I guess that I would wear in Husky and all of my pants would have elastic waists. Actually, that would probably be really comfortable.
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Written on Friday, the 30th of December, 2005 at 3:17 am and was filed under:
Photography,
Food
The whole “biweekiversary” thing started as a joke, but it got out of control pretty quickly. Things escalated, cards were given, and cakes were baked.
I brought the cake to work, and there was some questioning whether it was a cake of celebration or letting down — the question being if the suffix should be “hooray” or “and that’s all you get, fucker.” Really, the proper appendation would be “thus far,” because Cake Woman is really fit, she’s fit, but my gosh don’t she know it.
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Written on Thursday, the 29th of December, 2005 at 10:20 pm and was filed under:
Nerdity
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Don’t ask, don’t tell.
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Written on Wednesday, the 28th of December, 2005 at 9:31 pm and was filed under:
Diversions
This weekend, amongst the Christmas and other things, I finally upgraded from Gallery1 to Gallery2. It’s pretty sweet. I should have done this months ago.
For the record, I have 31G of image data in my gallery. 42k+ images, and none of them porn!
Well, except for those pictures of me from college.
Never mind that.
Really.
Ahem.
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Written on Wednesday, the 28th of December, 2005 at 1:51 am and was filed under:
Speaking in Tongues
As best as I can tell, this is elephant in Arabic:
الفيل
Japanese/Chinese:
象
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Written on Tuesday, the 27th of December, 2005 at 12:17 am and was filed under:
Diversions
The Chronic What Cles of Narnia!
Mr. Pibb + Red Vines = Crazy Delicious!
Lisa and I went to Narnia for the evening, since we had both spent our youths there. I don’t usually give star ratings to movies, but 4 and 1/2 applies here. It was technically flawless (as far as I could tell) but it didn’t quite capture that “I wish that I could escape from my shitty life into a magic world where I am destined to be a king and stuff” kind of feeling that I always had as a kid. Maybe I’m just jaded.
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Written on Monday, the 26th of December, 2005 at 11:17 pm and was filed under:
Diversions
Yesterday was the slowest Christmas ever. I slept late, but I wasn’t expecting to hear from Cake Woman until 6pm, so once the Keathlys dashed off to their Christmas day activities I was left alone in the house. Parts of me wanted all day to just get in the car and drive to Wisconsin, but I knew that the only possible outcomes of seeing my father were endless seething or an ugly explosion of pent-up bile. I sacrificed seeing the family that I love to not see that alcoholic and addict.
“I never used when I was around you, I didn’t have to because you made me so happy.”
That’s a lie. That’s blaming me for his addictions. If I would have just been around, he never would have used. I tell you what, I never went anywhere. If he would have been sober for the first nine years of my life he never would have had to leave. He worked the program starting in 1984, but step one was supposed to be admitting that he had a problem.
Cake Woman didn’t call until 8, and then it seemed to be forever before she was placing a pitcher of ale in front of me. I had to fetch a glass from the bar, but they were all out of glassware, so the bartender handed me a plastic cup. I joked that I wasn’t going to tip him and he flipped out, so, uh, no tip for him after all. I returned to my seat between Cake Woman and Sister Nadeau, which slid farther and farther from the conversations as more people showed up and additional tables were annexed. I joked that a nearby table was Kamchatka (of Risk fame), but it quickly became apparent that I was stuck in Siberia. The smokers evaporated from my end and condensed again at the other. Cake Woman was talking to Elise, but with her back to me I couldn’t hear anything over the roar of a bar full of patrons and juke box music.
Dean and Renee had called during the day while I waited, and I mentioned that I had an unexpectedly nice time at my sister’s house in Iowa.
“Was everyone well lubricated?” Dean asked, which is a reasonable question. The holidays are stressful for everyone and booze is glorious. However, the Iversons do not really partake. I had a half of a juice glass of wine and John had considerably more, but overall it was a sober affair with tired adults and happy kids. Ellen practically begged me to stay, but I drove home through thick fog and black night anyway. I had joked over and over again that sleeping in Iowa was like Persephone eating the pomegranite seeds. Before going I had been sure that Ellen had invited me under duress, but she just missed me like I miss her.
So Friday my mom met my girlfriend, Saturday I saw my sister for the second time in a year and a half, and Sunday I spent alone until Cake Woman rescued me and plied me with alcohol — but I was kind of numb all weekend, just coasting through presents and driving. When Cake Woman left for home this morning everything that I had been pushing down and ignoring surged over me. When Melody came on IM late in the afternoon I sort of lost my shit. I talked, she listened, and then I laid down for a while.
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Written on Monday, the 26th of December, 2005 at 1:41 am and was filed under:
Diversions
So, if I would have gone to Wisconsin, I would have come home reasonably sober. Instead I spent a good part of the evening at Mortimers — but there was no foosball for me. :/
Oh well, so be it, at least I didn’t have to pay for any booze. None at all! Hooray!
Also, I should not forget that I need to record all of Nova.
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Written on Saturday, the 24th of December, 2005 at 1:03 pm and was filed under:
Photography
Cake Woman was somewhat happy with her Cindy Sherman book.
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Written on Saturday, the 24th of December, 2005 at 12:44 am and was filed under:
Diversions
If you’re curious, all three gravies turned out okay, but the standalone gravy was apparently too peppery. Okay, I admit it, the second teaspoon of peppercorns was too much, but it seemed like the sweeter spices needed a balance. I should have just used half of the spice blend that I made, or made twice as much of the gravy that I didn’t ladle over the meatballs that Lisa made. In any case, I am starting to rule at this whole roux business. I just wish that I had occasion to cook anything else. I mean, I suppose that I could cook every day, but it’s only on special occasions that I can push everything aside and apply heat to meat, so to speak.
Never mind. It’s time for booze and THE DUKES OF HAZZARD, because I was on my very best behavior all day and it is time to do something that will injure brain cells (unlike all that white wine I was drinking, which is good for your heart. Or liver. Or… FUCK I DON’T KNOW, LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE, I HAVE TO GO TO FUCKING IOWA TOMORROW).
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