May 2005 Archives
May 27, 2005
My mother informed me that the front page of my site was rather lonely and empty. Heaven forbid I leave my website and its 3 admirers lonely and empty while on vacation. And it really has been a nice vacation-like vacation, family notwithstanding.
We have read our books and sipped our coffee in the mornings on a pine porch swing overlooking the Anchor River with no other buildings in sight.
We have played with 10 week old Miniature Schnauzer puppies the same size as Lacey so as to fill out hearts with love for the next two years.
We have consumed the yumminess that is the Glacier Drive In.
And we have watched B descend a birch tree quite rapidly and sprain his right ankle, turning me into a chauffer and his motorcycle into a nice lawn ornament.
Life is good.
May 23, 2005
Had someone informed us that there were areas in Alaska further south than Fairbanks still in the throes of winter, B would have had second thoughts about driving his motorcycle.
It was raining and miserable for him most of the trip, but the worst stretch was the 50+ miles south of Cantwell that still had a ton of snow on the ground and the air temperature was in the low 40s. Poor thing had to take breaks and warm up in the car. How can one be so miserable and so sexy in full leathers at the same time?
May 21, 2005
All our bags are packed, we're ready to go, and I cannot stop singing Leaving on a Jet Plane.
My Ta-da list is empty save for the one thing that can wait until we decide when we will be driving back north.
If you are already in Homer awaiting my arrival with bated breath, you should swing by Faith Lutheran Church tonight and help stroke my brother's ego. I'm sure he needs it.
You may not hear from me much. I've set up auto posting for my photos for the entire two weeks. My mother and B's mother both have 29k dial-up connections (darn phone lines) and I don't know how much of that I can withstand.
Who am I kidding: I cannot stay away from you, dear Internet Of My Heart.
May 20, 2005
Crisis and emergency communication may interrupt work in a prompt and professional manner.
I'm sorry, Emergency, I cannot deal with you until you interrupt my work in a prompt and professional manner.
May 20, 2005
All of my brothers are now in their thirties leaving me as the only sibling in my 20s.
I want to point and laugh and call them old farts, but mostly I'm just sad that Melissa isn't here to point and laugh with me.
May 19, 2005
Against all better judgment and a crapload of things to do, we are going to see the Sith movie tonight. I cannot remember Episode 2 at all, and barely remember the original three. But I won't let that, my need to pack, or the idea of standing in line for an hour with smelly, unsocialized nerds stop me.
May 19, 2005
I got my bike back from my boss who fixed it up all shiny and pretty after being mangled by an unpretty white car, and it's great having it back.
The brakes no longer squeak, and the tires roll! In a straight line! Amazing! With a free set of Ginsu Knives!
Only thing I'm not too happy about is its new lackadaisical attitude about switching gears. Dude, you're a bike; you have to switch gears. Preferably when I tell you to.
I took it out for a nice ride last night and, true to my intentions, a quick 20 minute ride this morning at 7am, a whole half hour before I am used to waking.
I am so completely out of shape, my 20 minute ride this morning left me panting and barely able to walk. The Spit is 5 miles long: what in the world makes me think I will be able to ride down to its end, none the less ride BACK?
My only hope is that Damon hasn't been keeping up with his bike riding and will be, in fact, worse off than I am. I need someone to make myself feel superior, and he is just the man to do it.
Did I mention you were riding The Spit with me, Damon? No? Hm.
May 17, 2005
B and I managed to steal two weeks each from our employers, and we will use said weeks for pure punishment and terror.
Yes, we are going to Homer to see family.
B's youngest sister is graduating from high school next Monday. Aside from that, I plan on gaining 20 pounds by eating exclusively at The Glacier Driver In.
Oh, greasy Glacier Burger and chocolate peanut butter milkshake, you will be mine.
B will be driving his motorcycle down and I will be following in the car. He doesn't have a windshield on his bike, and it's currently raining. Should be a fun trip for him; I will wave from my car with a cabin-fevered dog, iPod, sunroof, and a choice of heat OR air conditioning.
And, in the spirit of actually getting things done, I have made public my On the Road Again Ta-Da List. Why would you care that I need to give the dog a haircut? I have no idea. But you might. She is pretty cute, after all.
Other things I want to try and accomplish when down there include photographing my father's automobile graveyard, avoiding chores at my in-laws', riding my bike down the length of The Spit and back, sleeping in, swimming in the ocean, stealing/borrowing a boat for a trip across the bay, and shooting the shit with my brother.
There is much shit to be shot, so that might take up my entire time. But really, there may be no better way to spend it.
May 17, 2005
I hate crontabs.
Nothing to see here.
May 16, 2005
I'm standing in the feminine hygiene aisle wondering why we still use such a silly euphemism and why condoms are in the same aisle--surely condoms are also a masculine hygiene item? Sitting in the center of the condom rack is a giant box of Super Heavy Duty trash bags, as though whomever had picked them up had changed their mind and gotten a box of condoms instead. This person would have been most assuredly male.
May 14, 2005
For the record,
big fat rain drops
on my face
really hurt at 80 miles per hour.
They kind of sting
at 40, too.
But on the up side,
We need more to
hold the forest fires
May 13, 2005
The weekend's content provided by the better looking sibling:
Valette: How, exactly, are you going to be terrorizing them? Because I'm not up to exposing myself for a few cheap thrills.
nomad: No, No. Nothing they will need serious counseling for. I was thinking more like going up to them all sweet-like and then falling over on top of them.
nomad: Jesus is now coming in tiny little pills? BRILLIANT marketing!
nomad: I enjoy being so generationally conscious. It makes me feel superior.
Valette: The more ways to accomplish that, the better.
May 13, 2005
I had two or three most awesomest posts nearly composed during my drive to work this morning. Those posts and last night's dream to type out.
So what happened? you may wonder. And you may continue to wonder, because I have no clue.
I do understand how all the stuff I cram into my schedule after I wake pushes my dreams further from my consciousness.
I had the best luck remembering my dreams when I was able to wake slowly and have an hour or two to check email and type up my dreams. Back in the Good Old Days when I didn't have a job and was severely depressed 23 hours of every day.
May 12, 2005
Calling my organization and then asking if you can put me on hold to grab another line is not only RUDE but it TICKS ME OFF and I suggest you don't do it if you expect to find me still waiting whenever you decide to get back with me. You called me, remember?
May 11, 2005
At 5:30 tonight, our thermometer read 112°F in the sun.
I totally need to move closer to the ocean.
May 11, 2005
The weather is gorgeous and hot. I need to be out in it more, get my butt out of bed a half hour earlier (the butt crack of 7am, the inhumanity) and lace up my sneakers for a quick jog or fast walk. My old boss offered to fix my bike from when I was hit by a car and has been dilly-dallying all winter long, but it should be done hopefully by this weekend.
I am also jonesing to get my garden in and planted, but that breaketh the Golden Rule of Gardening: THOU SHALT NOT plant thy garden before Holy Memorial Day weekend.
Seriously, planting a few weeks early is just begging the gods to smite us with frost and snow. Yes, this is mid-May, and yes, it's currently a sunny 73°F, but the Alaskan gods do as they wilt.
May 11, 2005
My sister-in-law is trying to sell their 5th wheel trailer. They live in Wasilla, Alaska. Take a look if you are interested, but don't email her in an illiterate fasion claiming you have a 'shipping agent' and a money order.
May 10, 2005
To the fucktard who rang my doorbell at 2:30am, causing my dog to bark and my blood pressure to skyrocket, and then denied it drunkenly when confronted in the hallway: I hate you.
May 9, 2005
To: All of my good-for-nothing brothers
How dare you not do anything for Mom yesterday. You know, Mother's Day? The one day where you take your mother out for lunch or brunch and let her know that you aren't the completely selfish brat that I have tried convincing her that you are.
Instead of being treated all special-like on her day, she had to cook dinner for her and your father. Let me re-iterate: Mom. Had. To cook. On Mother's Day.
You can be sure that, had I been closer to Homer I would have done something special for her. Because of this, I am her favorite. There are even a few of you in Homer and yet you still did nothing for her.
The woman who labored for more than 100 combined hours to push us into this world through her vaginal cavity.
You should have done at least something for her, because now you probably have a mental image of her vaginal cavity. TAKE THAT.
And you're welcome.
May 7, 2005
I really love using Bloglines because it's a web application, and I can keep up with my feeds on any computer: home, work, the ancient laptop, and even when visiting family.
But lately, it is really putting a kink in my think, and I know I'm not the only one.
A lot of my feeds aren't showing as being updated, even though they do have updated items. I can see the new items if I click directly on a folder, but the individual item doesn't show a thing.
Most of these items are Atom feeds - maybe Bloglines has decided to hate Atom? I can think of formats worth hating, and Atom isn't one.
May 6, 2005
Bed in Summer
Robert Louis Stevenson
In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.
I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up people's feet
Still going past me in the street.
And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?
May 5, 2005
Anyone ever had any trouble with Thunderbird mixing up the message bodies of emails? The past few days I have received legitimate emails that had the text of a spam email added onto its end. Not attached, but added to the body of the email.
This has happened on a few emails I sent from work, as well as a few comment notifications through MT. And this isn't happening to all emails, just a few.
I would do a bit of research, see if this is a documented bug, but I cannot figure out how to word it concisely. Poking through the Thunderbird forums and knowledge base and big reports really isn't my idea of a fun few days.
I'm also running AVG Anti-Virus; perhaps that could have something to do with it? Maybe the home computer has some malware? A virus? Any ideas?
I've also had problems with not getting emails that I know I should be getting, messages I saw when checking my webmail but somehow managed to dissapear when I tried to download them to Thunderbird. Perhaps it is time to ditch Thunderbird all together. But move to what?
A copy of a problem email can be found behind the jump.
May 5, 2005
Dear eBay phishing spammers:
If one fake email isn't going to fool me, what makes you think 300 "final warning" emails will do?
Knock it off.
May 3, 2005
You think I could remember for the life of me where I put the film attachment to our scanner?
You know the one: it's the one about which I said, "Why did you buy that huge scanner with the film scanning attachment? Why would we ever use that? We will never use that."
And while 'we' as an office have never used it, 'we' as the staff of squeegie.org have a dire need to use it. Right now, actually.
May 3, 2005
Thank you for standing over my desk for the ten minutes it takes you to read every headline from the newspaper aloud. And then reading aloud the most exciting section, the weekly weather forecast. From the newspaper that I had finished reading 15 minutes prior.
No really, thank you. It's this sort of camaraderie before 9am that makes me really love mornings.
May 2, 2005
The horrid verbal-assaulting, barking-dog-owning upstairs neighbor was actually and for really kicked out last weekend, hurrah! The new neighbors, dog-less and child-less as they wonderfully are, started moving in this past weekend.
Or rather, they started moving in at 2am this morning.
I know that because 2am was when I woke from a dream of tearing metal pipes from the wall and throwing them down into a pile of other torn pipes. The sound in my dream was so satisfying, pumped up as I was.
The sound of boxes dropping on my ceiling in my waking life, however, was horrid. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. I thought it would never end. But it must have, since I fell back asleep.
Only to be waken by the sun streaming through my kitchen window, bouncing off the white hallway wall, off the white baby gate (to keep the dog in the bedroom), onto my pillow, and into my eye.
Right now it's too light in the mornings to leave the curtains open, but it's too dark at night for my subconscious to keep my eye mask over my eyes. It's too hot inside to keep the bedroom door closed, but it's too cold outside to leave the windows open.
In short: life is pain. You just get used to it.