Month: January 2012

Strike up the band

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Stand back, people, history is happening.  This post, this very special (not all that special) post, is my 1000th post. That’s a lot of zeroes.  That’s a lot of inanity.  I always miss little milestone like this.  It’s only dumb luck that I happened to look at the number of posts this morning.  I missed my car’s odometer passing 100,000 miles when we drove to Long Island to visit John’s grandmother on Christmas Eve, even though I knew it was coming because I noticed how close it was the day before.  I remember birthdays (usually) and anniversaries (sometimes), but even though I try every year, I blow right by the smaller things (like the anniversary of our first kiss, or the anniversary of adopting Roxy and Riley).  I remember it a few days early, think to myself “don’t forget this year”, and then I remember again a day or two after it’s passed.

My point is that the fact I noticed this and am doing something about it (however little) is as momentous as the fact that this is post #1000.  Where’s my musical episode?  I should have had ten of them by now.  I guess I’ll have to settle for these.  The last one isn’t from a sitcom, but you’ll have to forgive me because 1) it’s awesome, and 2) it’s my special blog day!

Chasing some thoughts as they flit through my tired brain

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I like tea.  Might have put too much sugar in this cup, though.  I gave Roxy a kong toy with frozen peanut butter and dog treats stuffed inside.  She chewed happily on it until she chased it under my desk.  She was heading my way to tell me to fetch it for her just when I noticed that the gnawing sounds had stopped.  Smart dog.  I think I chose the wrong book to read.  I want to read it, and I want to want to read it more, but I clearly don’t want to read it enough since I’m here typing instead of reading.  I’ll read it.  Tomorrow.  Tomorrow is Tuesday.  Tomorrow is almost February.  Technically, today is also almost February.  When does almost start?  Definitely not earlier than halfway through the month before.  I was having this conversation with someone about age recently.  I’m almost 33.  Who says that at this age?  When you’re a month away from your 13th birthday, it makes sense to say you’re almost 13.  Almost 9.  Almost 16.  But almost 33?  Three weeks to go.  So do I give in and just say I’m 33?  I’m closer to 33 than 32.  Or do I hold on to 32 (“as long as you ca-an”) until the actual day?  Seriously, I wonder about this almost every day.  The cardio machines at the gym ask me for weight (depressing, but that’s not one of the choices) and age.  From a purely physiological (is that the word I’m looking for?) standpoint, 33 would be closer to the truth.  I hope the machine doesn’t mind that I’ve been lying to it for almost six months.  Almost.

Decisions, decisions

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I finished All Clear today (when I should have been doing Statistics homework), and now I have to decide what’s next.  (Don’t suggest Watership Down.  That’s not funny.)  The last few decisions haven’t been all that hard – The Hunger Games trilogy, then All Clear – but the local library sale was this weekend (we went Friday night), so we picked up a few things, including a Robin McKinley book…and I did finally order Elizabeth Bear’s Hammered…problem solved.  One, then the other.  Sometimes you just have to talk it out.  Thanks!

My guilt will follow me to the grave

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I’m dangerous and shouldn’t be allowed out of the house.  It was an accident, of course, but still.  Bunnies all through the neighborhood are in mourning tonight, I know it.  I’m a murderer.  I killed a bunny.  A poor defenseless little rabbit who ran into the road.  I felt a bump, turned the car around, and ran into the road myself.  Already dead.  At least it was quick.  But what if my victim had little baby bunnies at home?  What about them?  Are they huddled up in their burrow (warren? nest?) waiting for a parent who won’t be coming back?

Am I anthropomorphizing perhaps a bit too much?  Maybe, but I think this is the first time I’ve been directly responsible for the death of any animal (insects don’t count).  Cut me a little slack.  Or don’t.  I’m a killer, and I don’t deserve slack.

A combination of two of my favorite things

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John and I discovered How I Met Your Mother a few months ago (November, maybe?).  Seven years late, of course, but being so far behind has its advantages.  We’ve slowed down some, but there were some nights and weekends where we’d watch episode after episode after episode…  We’re in season 5 now, aware that we’re catching up quickly, so we only watch a handful of episodes a week now.  🙂  Anyway, I found this on YouTube last night.

I want them to finish singing it! They stopped at the best part. Man, I love that show.

I’m probably making this harder than it has to be

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I was going to post something yesterday, but then I didn’t.  True story.  And one of my better ones, I know.

You know how sometimes people suggest doing something together (“We can carpool!” or “You can sit in here with me!”) because it sounds like a good idea?  To them, anyway.  And you don’t want to do it, mostly because you just want to be alone, but if you say that, it’ll hurt their feelings.  Or look like an attitude problem.  Yeah, I hate that.  Except when I don’t hate it.  There are times when I’m all for it.  Usually at the beginning, but then I’ve set a precedent (“Carpooling is a great idea!”  ‘Wow, it makes so much sense for me to sit in here with you instead of over there by myself!”) and backing out is difficult.  It’s like breaking up (“No, it’s not that I don’t like you.  I do.  I just need some space.”  “It’s not you, it’s me.”), except not so permanent.  I need an excuse that sounds reasonable and won’t hurt anybody’s feelings.

I’m just not in the mood for people.  People in general.  You guys are good, the people at my gym are good, but everyone else?  I want to hide from everyone else.  For now, though, I’ll settle for sleep.

My not very well thought out review of The Hunger Games

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I finished The Hunger Games trilogy over the weekend.  After one small hiccup at the very beginning, I couldn’t put them down.  The hiccup?  It’s written in the first person point of view, but in the present tense.  I nearly gave up on the first page.  But I got over it almost immediately and stopped noticing.  Stopped noticing to the point where I’m not 100% sure the second and third books are written the same way.  They must be.  I could check, but they’re in the other room.  I’m lazy.  Anyway, aside from that, I was hooked right away.  Dystopian society in the not-too-distant future, people pushed to the edge, hard choices, fight for survival – good stuff.

Musing on nothing in particular

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  • John caught Riley drinking my coffee this morning.  Later, he (Riley, not John) knocked the trash can down the basement steps and possibly ate some of the coffee grounds that spilled out.  Is my dog a caffeine junkie?  How did this happen?  How did I not notice?  It would certainly explain the high-strung behavior…
  • John made a pot roast (roast beef?  Is there a difference?  I don’t really care – delicious either way) for dinner tonight.  The house smells fantastic – like red wine and onions.  Warm red wine and onions.
  • I got a 96% on my fourth homework assignment in my data modeling class.  I was debating whether or not to argue with the professor because I think (and John agrees) that she’s wrong about that one answer.  I decided not to.  I got a 96%.  Arguing for a 100% isn’t necessary.  I’m letting it go.
  • I’m drinking white wine instead of red even though we’re having pot roast (or roast beef) for dinner tonight.  Ask me if I care.  (Hint: I don’t.)

How is that helpful?

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I’ve been having some problems with my cell phone lately.  My wonderful was-state-of-the-art-almost-a-year-and-a-half-ago phone.  That I still love.  Except for these problems.  I’m going to list them.  Because I like lists.  And choppy sentences.

  1. My phone reboots when I’m using the Hulu or Netflix app to watch TV.  I can get through about 20 minutes and then my phone turns itself off and takes forEVER to turn itself back on.  Much longer than the usual startup time.  And it’s not a battery problem – I usually have at least half the battery life left.  Maybe it’s an overheating problem, but it doesn’t happen to John when he watches something for that long (or longer) on his phone.  And once it reboots once, it’ll do it again within about five minutes.  Irritating.
  2. My battery only lasts about four hours, even when I’m barely using my phone.  I don’t leave unnecessary or power-hungry apps running when they don’t need to be.  I don’t know why I would see such a sudden change.  Maybe my battery is going.
  3. My phone can’t find the GPS satellite anymore.  The last few times I’ve turned on the GPS…tracker..thingy, my phone says it’s searching for the satellite and never finds it.

So I called Sprint for help.  Oh my god.  It started out promising.  The tech I talked to had a deep, calm, capable voice, and he was very nice, but it was all a lie.  Well, not all.  He was calm and his voice stayed deep.  And he was nice.  Not so capable, though.  He was kind of an idiot, and he clearly didn’t understand how the phone works.  The GPS thing completely threw him.  But it was over half an hour before he gave up.  He did absolutely nothing to help me.  He couldn’t even give me an idea of what the problem might be.  The next step is to take it to a repair center.  I might try talking to HTC first, though.  Actually, I think the very next step will be to put John’s battery in my phone and test my issues.  He’s not having any of these problems.  If that doesn’t work, I’ll call HTC.  Then try the repair center.

Easily amused

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I was just about done shopping, heading for the checkout, when I saw this:

And then I laughed.  The whole way home, I imagined how this company got their name.  In my head, there was a little girl who grew up in a winery, so she’s been hearing about places like Bordeaux, Alsace, Burgundy, Champagne, Napa, etc., all her life.  One day she hears someone talking about Côtes du Rhône, but what little girl is going to hear that correctly?  So Goats Do Roam is born, because her parents (or whoever) have a sense of humor.

Sadly, when I googled the company, I found that the story isn’t that charming.  It’s close enough (no children involved, just kids – thank you, I’ll be here all week), though.  I think they should have made something up.

I love three-day weekends

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I was looking over my list for the weekend and I realized I left off something important.

  1. Do my homework (I have an assignment due for Data Modeling and Design)
  2. Finish Faithful Place
  3. Start The Hunger Games
  4. Exercise
  5. Grocery store
  6. Blah blah other boring things
  7. Oh, also SLEEP

    8. Aren’t I forgetting something? Oh, yeah.

  8. GET MY NAILS DONE

How could I forget about that?  Something of such global importance?  Silly me.  I also don’t remember what the other boring things were (#6), so I’m considering them done.  But look how productive I was!  Homework, reading, and sleeping.  Good for me.  And the gym.  Better for me.  Poor John is still miserable (and he has to go to work today – poor John, indeed).  He spent most of the weekend resting.

I am going to finish The Hunger Games before I tackle the rest of my busy day.  OR…I could go to the store now and get my one chore out of the way early…  Decisions, decisions.

Sore (not Thor)

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I can’t even count the ways that I am sore.  Last  night was my first night back at my Muscle Blast and yoga classes since Thanksgiving.  I’m very happy to be back, I really like those classes, but oh my god I hurt so much now.  Every muscle we worked on is screaming at me.  The aches sorta crept in one by one throughout the day, but they’re all here now.  Hi everybody!  Now go away.

I spent the entire day in a tiny little room with my boss (plus an hour and a half each way in a car with her to get to that tiny little room).  I need some space.  I need some alone time.  And I need some sleep.

You know what’s awesome?  Tomorrow’s Friday and it’s the beginning of a three-day weekend!  You know what’s awesome-er than awesome?  The first season (well, the 2005 season) of Doctor Who arrived in the mail yesterday!  With extras and commentary and lots of hours of Doctor and Rose goodness.

Does anyone know where we can find the last season of Torchwood (the season set in the US) online?  It was on Netflix for a little while, but it’s gone now.

My plan for the weekend:

  1. Do my homework (I have an assignment due for Data Modeling and Design)
  2. Finish Faithful Place
  3. Start The Hunger Games
  4. Exercise
  5. Grocery store
  6. Blah blah other boring things
  7. Oh, also SLEEP

Let’s watch a dog diving through a pile of leaves instead

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These last two days have gotten completely away from me.  Too much work, not enough play.  Or homework.  And a cold.  Poor, poor me.  Let’s all be sad.

Actually, I felt much better today than yesterday.  I’m crossing my fingers that this trend continues.  Especially since I have to go downtown tomorrow and I REALLY don’t want to be miserable that far from home.

Of course, if I end up feeling miserable tomorrow, I can make myself feel much better by watching this video (via The Daily What) again.

That was hilariously adorable.  This one is just scary.

You know that moaning sound Harry makes in that one scene in When Harry Met Sally? I’ve been making that sound all day.

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I worked from home today.  And I’m going to work from home again tomorrow.  Breathing sucks.  (You’re welcome.)  Well, it does, no matter how you look at it, sick or not.  You can’t run from the truth.  I have had a fuzzy head all day.  John had hopes that really loud music might vibrate all the crud out of my head last night, but it didn’t work.  It was cool, though.  We went to see Eric Johnson play in Alexandria.  We weren’t more than 40 feet away, and I picked the right side to sit on – he was angled towards us most of the night.  Crucial, in his case, ’cause you have to watch his hands fly.

Sorry – no brain, loud music in the basement (the band is rehearsing), and I want some soup.  Wonton soup.  (I had egg drop last night – no, two nights ago.  Love that stuff.)  I lost my train of thought, realized I have nothing left to say about the Eric Johnson concert, and then stared at the screen until it went out of focus.

Oh, you know what’s really totally not cool?  Wearing cologne to the gym.  It’s so unnecessary.  Yesterday, I was on one of the machines, and the guy on my right smelled like he had bathed in the stuff.  It was very irritating to my already irritated nose.  He moved on after 10 minutes or so, but the scent didn’t.  Dude.  It’s okay if you don’t smell like roses.  You’re at the gym.  You’re getting sweaty.  And nobody cares.

And there goes my brain again.  Lost for another 20 minutes.  I need soup.

It is taking me entirely too long to finish books lately

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I FINALLY finished The Player of Games, the second Culture novel.  I’m not sure how much the order matters, actually, since the first two have very little to do with each other, but I’m going to keep reading them in the order they were published.  This one was WAY better, way more interesting throughout, then the first one (so if you’re considering continuing, Erik, this one was worth it).

John and I have finally decided to put our Kindle to a real test.  (He has downloaded a couple of free books, but I don’t know if he finished any of them.  I haven’t played with it at all.)  We keep hearing good things (or good enough things) about Stephen King’s latest book, and since we don’t have any overwhelming desire to own a hard copy of it, we’re going to buy the e-book.  And then possibly fight over who gets to read it first.  I might lose that fight, though.  I just started reading Faithful Place (Tana French – SO good), and I really like it, so I might not be available to start a new book for a little bit.  Life is hard.

Also hard – fighting off this cold or allergies or whatever the hell it is.  It’s annoying.  And I’ve discovered that, aside from the miseries of actually being allergic to, like, everything that has pollen or dust or mold, it’s super annoying when I can’t tell if I have an actual cold (in which case I’d stay inside and be miserable by myself so I don’t contaminate others) or if I’m just reacting to the ridiculous weather.  I mean, really, 60 degrees in January?  That’s crazy.  So if it’s just allergies (and I suspect it is since, aside from congestion and stuffiness and other uncomfortable things in my head, I feel fine – if only I could live without my head for a few days), I can tough it out and continue doing normal social things.  So I’m off to the gym.  If it turns out this is an actual cold, the gym will kill me and I’ll collapse into bed.  Good plan.

Things that have nothing to do with each other

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Car trouble.  Not the big kind.  The annoying kind.  I drove my car last Friday.  Then I left it in the driveway over the weekend, and the temperature dropped Monday night.  Tuesday morning, I went out to start the car.  Nothing.  Not even engine sputters or clicking.  Completely dead battery.  John jumped the car, we checked for the culprit and found nothing (no lights were on, no doors were ajar, the radio was off) and I drove to work (about 20 minutes).  That afternoon, around 2:15, I tried to start the car again.  (I needed to get home so I could give Roxy her medicine around 2:30.  More on that later.)  Nothing.  Completely dead battery.  I got the woman who was parked next to me to help me jump the car again.  I crawled all over the damn thing once it was running, looking for any doors not shut all the way or lights on that shouldn’t be – still nothing.  I drove home, taking the long way.  John did a ton of googling.  Turns out this car often has battery drain problems.  Something is draining power even when everything is off.  The problem is that everyone’s solution is different.  And we don’t have one yet.  For now, we have a workaround (it helped that I was going to Baltimore today and didn’t need a car).  Last night, after I got home, John unplugged this power connector thing that’s inside the dash on the far left (facing the driver’s side door).  This morning, he plugged it back in and the car started right up.  He drove it to work today, unplugged it again, and was able to start the car to get home.  So something in the group of…things that the power connector controls is what’s draining the battery.  The next step is to figure out which thing it is so we can fix it.  Or replace it.  Or…something.  Now that I know I can start the car, it’s not an emergency.  It’s just super annoying.  And it turns out that this is why my power locks don’t work half the time.  There’s not enough power left in the car to trip the locks, and I have to actual open the door with the KEY.  How barbaric.

I have no segue for this next thing.  I was going to go with “You know what else is barbaric?”, but it doesn’t make any sense.  So I’m skipping the segue.  Sue me.  Also, I keep trying to spell segue “seque”.  I’m not sure that’s a word in any language.  What do I know?  Maybe it is.  Maybe it’s what a sequin becomes when it grows up.

My point is that I want to talk about Roxy now, but I can’t get there from power locks that don’t work.

I don’t even have a whole lot to say about Roxy, except that she’s doing okay.  She had a seizure this morning, and she’s still having them every week to week and a half, but she’s recovered pretty quickly from her last few.  The biggest headache has been the change in medication.  We added a new one (the third) that we had to give her three times a day, 8 hours apart.  That is HARD.  No matter how we schedule it, we either end up having to give her a pill in the middle of the night or be home in the middle of the afternoon (2-ish – like yesterday), which is difficult when we have to be at work.  And it’s so new (and so different from her regular medication schedule – twice a day, 12 hours apart) that even I’m working from home, I can’t remember to give her the pill on time, so we either end up giving it to her really late and skipping the next one or we skip the one I forgot and give her the late one.  Thankfully, the drug company just started making an extended release version.  We picked it up yesterday and started this morning.  Twice a day, 12 hours apart.  That we can do.

And here’s a video of my adorable puppy.

Roxy doesn’t want to play my games from Susannah Brewer on Vimeo.

Oh noes – did I just over-extend?

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I registered for three classes today (two at a time – I certainly can’t handle three at a time).  I hope I won’t regret this.  Starting next Monday, I’m taking Statistics II (lasts the full semester) and Data Modeling and Design (just an 8-week course).  Once that 8-week course is over, I’ll start an 8-week SQL course.  I’m assuming (based on how Stat I went) that these classes won’t be as difficult as the calculus classes, so maybe juggling them and work won’t be so bad.

Who am I kidding?  Even if the classes are easy, the juggling will be hard.  I am an idiot.