Argephontes
6/14/2002
Fifteen minutes left before time to go, and I am hiding in my office until that time comes.
Thought I'd give the Friday Five a go:
1. How often do you do laundry? I do as little laundry as I can get away with. Basically, when I either run out of underwear or if something I really want to wear is dirty. The latter happens often enough that the first doesn't come into play very often.
2. What's in a typical wash load? Some socks, some tops, some pants. I try to make sure there is an equal amount of Ryan's and my clothes in each load (because who knows when I'll do another one) to make it "fair."
3. Front or top loader? Powder or liquid detergent? Top loader (because that's what came with the apartment). We used liquid for a long time, but I've just recently switched back to powder. I think the powder makes the clothes smell fresher.
4. Do you use fabric softener in the rinse cycle? Hell no. That would require paying attention to the laundry. It's hard enough to remember to put the load in the dryer.
5. Dryer or clothesline? Dryer. I am far too lazy to hang up clothes. ¶ 6/14/2002 04:50:00 PM
Thought I'd give the Friday Five a go:
1. How often do you do laundry? I do as little laundry as I can get away with. Basically, when I either run out of underwear or if something I really want to wear is dirty. The latter happens often enough that the first doesn't come into play very often.
2. What's in a typical wash load? Some socks, some tops, some pants. I try to make sure there is an equal amount of Ryan's and my clothes in each load (because who knows when I'll do another one) to make it "fair."
3. Front or top loader? Powder or liquid detergent? Top loader (because that's what came with the apartment). We used liquid for a long time, but I've just recently switched back to powder. I think the powder makes the clothes smell fresher.
4. Do you use fabric softener in the rinse cycle? Hell no. That would require paying attention to the laundry. It's hard enough to remember to put the load in the dryer.
5. Dryer or clothesline? Dryer. I am far too lazy to hang up clothes. ¶ 6/14/2002 04:50:00 PM
The Weekly Update will just have to friggin' wait until tomorrow. Advising has more or less kicked my ass.
No cigarette from 12:45 until 4:24 is a really, really long time. ¶ 6/14/2002 04:34:00 PM
No cigarette from 12:45 until 4:24 is a really, really long time. ¶ 6/14/2002 04:34:00 PM
Transfer Orientation today. The hulla-ba-loo starts in about thirty minutes, and then should continue for the rest of the day. Transfer Students are usually both better and worse than freshmen. Better, becuase they are slightly more mature and already have some experience with college life. Worse for the same reason.
There is definately going to be drinking tonight. ¶ 6/14/2002 10:53:00 AM
There is definately going to be drinking tonight. ¶ 6/14/2002 10:53:00 AM
Maybe having TV again is a bad thing.
1) Prior to being able to turn it on, the Stanley Cup Finals were an illusive and unattainable thing. Being able to watch the last few games was only a set-up for being disappointed.
2) Now that we have access to TV, Ryan thinks it's ok to wake up at odd hours in the middle of the night and early a.m. to watch World Cup soccer. I had to cope with 2 separate alarms going off at 5:15 this morning so that we could watch the USA give up 2 goals in the first 5 minutes. Grrr. (Note: this is better than having gone to the Soccer Breakfast that one of our friends was having for the game. Who the hell gets up before the butt-crack of dawn to have a get-together?)
3) Other than a Buffy rerun, a few soccer games, and the last two games in the Finals, I haven't actually watched the tv. Oh, and there was that one episode of The Iron Chef. Hee.
I'm thinking that the lack of available television for such an extended period of time has caused me to just not really be interested. This is a good aspect. But since the main thing we've watched has been sports events, and whoever I'm watching it for loses.... I'm not saying I won't watch them if they lose. But what if they won because I didn't?
Bah. I'm not awake yet, and I've only realized that this has absolutely no point whatsoever. Heh.
*Update from Ryan, who just called: The U.S. Soccer team are some lucky, lucky little bastards. ¶ 6/14/2002 08:29:00 AM
1) Prior to being able to turn it on, the Stanley Cup Finals were an illusive and unattainable thing. Being able to watch the last few games was only a set-up for being disappointed.
2) Now that we have access to TV, Ryan thinks it's ok to wake up at odd hours in the middle of the night and early a.m. to watch World Cup soccer. I had to cope with 2 separate alarms going off at 5:15 this morning so that we could watch the USA give up 2 goals in the first 5 minutes. Grrr. (Note: this is better than having gone to the Soccer Breakfast that one of our friends was having for the game. Who the hell gets up before the butt-crack of dawn to have a get-together?)
3) Other than a Buffy rerun, a few soccer games, and the last two games in the Finals, I haven't actually watched the tv. Oh, and there was that one episode of The Iron Chef. Hee.
I'm thinking that the lack of available television for such an extended period of time has caused me to just not really be interested. This is a good aspect. But since the main thing we've watched has been sports events, and whoever I'm watching it for loses.... I'm not saying I won't watch them if they lose. But what if they won because I didn't?
Bah. I'm not awake yet, and I've only realized that this has absolutely no point whatsoever. Heh.
*Update from Ryan, who just called: The U.S. Soccer team are some lucky, lucky little bastards. ¶ 6/14/2002 08:29:00 AM
6/13/2002
I think I need to take Mazzy (my cat) to the vet. She's coughing up these obscenely huge hairballs about twice a day. Other times she just hacks alot, and nothing comes up. This has been going on for about a week now, and I'm somewhat concerned. I mean, how many obscenely huge hairballs can you cough up in a week?
She used to have a hairball problem, though not like this. She coughed up smaller, more believably sized hairballs once or twice a week. Then they came out with Hairball Control food. I started buying it, and she more or less stopped. I've been feeding it to her ever since. The only thing that I can come up with is that the Hairball Control food is a trick. The hairballs remain. The food digests around the hair, maybe even coating it a little. Hence there's no reason for the cat to chuck it up, because it can digest it's food. But after a year of not chucking up hairballs, the hair has built up in the cat's widdle tummy to the extent where it's 1) uncomfortable and 2) really disrupting the digestive system. I.e., far worse than had she been chucking average-sized hairballs up on a regular basis for the past year.
The possibility that a year's worth of half-digested cat-hair is mulling around in Mazzy's tummy is freaking me out. This is my theory, though, which leaves open the possibility that I am completely wrong. Which I hope is the case. ¶ 6/13/2002 04:26:00 PM
She used to have a hairball problem, though not like this. She coughed up smaller, more believably sized hairballs once or twice a week. Then they came out with Hairball Control food. I started buying it, and she more or less stopped. I've been feeding it to her ever since. The only thing that I can come up with is that the Hairball Control food is a trick. The hairballs remain. The food digests around the hair, maybe even coating it a little. Hence there's no reason for the cat to chuck it up, because it can digest it's food. But after a year of not chucking up hairballs, the hair has built up in the cat's widdle tummy to the extent where it's 1) uncomfortable and 2) really disrupting the digestive system. I.e., far worse than had she been chucking average-sized hairballs up on a regular basis for the past year.
The possibility that a year's worth of half-digested cat-hair is mulling around in Mazzy's tummy is freaking me out. This is my theory, though, which leaves open the possibility that I am completely wrong. Which I hope is the case. ¶ 6/13/2002 04:26:00 PM
I just got word that I officially, on all levels, hold my own job now. Which is nice, since I've been doing it for about two years now.
I really hate bureaucracy. ¶ 6/13/2002 02:53:00 PM
I really hate bureaucracy. ¶ 6/13/2002 02:53:00 PM
Bill Barber is a vile, vile man. I hate him.
Ryan woke me up at 2:30 a.m. last night to tell me that the Flyers traded Brian Boucher, who I feel got cheated out of meeting his full potential as a goalie.
Okay. I DO think he's really cute. But more importantly, he's one of the reasons I'm a hockey fan. I love the fighting, I like the skill involved in handling a little piece of rubber with a stick while trying to keep your balance on ice skates. But I'm really fascinated by goal-tending. I don't know why. It's just... fascinating. These big guys with awesome reflexes and some sixth sense as to where the puck is heading sprawling all over the ice. You can get a real sense of a goalie's game personality right away, too. The whole good-guy team/bad-guy team theory works - you can get a sense of the team as a whole fairly easily, but you have to really watch a team for a while to get a sense of the individual players. But not a goalie. Sometimes you can get a sense of the goaltender before you even get a sense of the team. They also carry a lot of responsibility. If I were athleticly inclined, I would love to learn to play hockey and I would want to learn to play goal.
It didn't have to be Boucher. I think I would have latched on even if had been someone else. But the fact remains that it was. It was his rookie year as a player, and mine as a fan. Naturally, I latched on. He hasn't been the best goalie ever since. There have been some problems- sophomore year slump, and then an unspecified position where he was "sort of" second string, but nearly not. Basically, rather than trading him off when they got someone who was playing better (which would have given him a chance to start anew, and I think would have been FINE), they kept him around. Played him and Chechmanek (the other goalie) against eachother. Made it a competition, where neither was comfortable in his own skin and, therefore, neither was playing to his full ability. And I think that's pretty damned shitty.
I don't feel as bad for Chechmanek. He didn't get it as bad, and he's also in his early 30's (old for an athlete). Boucher, on the other hand, is in his prime at 25, but he's NOT in his prime. The building up hasn't taken place. He's going to waste the prime years getting that point where he's playing his best game. He could be there right now. And that's why I'm mad. I like this kid. I want him to be the best goal-tender he can be. I'd prefer him to be the best goaltender he can be as a Flyer, but we can't get everything we want. So I'm willing to let that go. I think Barber fucked up (Boucher has openly admitted that Barber more or less hated him- how's THAT for a confidence booster?). I'm afraid that maybe he might never reach his potential now. He's going to play for Pheonix, and I think they want him to start. He deserves this. I hope being in a new place with a new coach will be all he needs to shine. Cuz I know he could have.
Fuck you, Bill Barber. I'm glad you got fired. You vile, vile little man.
¶ 6/13/2002 09:57:00 AM
Ryan woke me up at 2:30 a.m. last night to tell me that the Flyers traded Brian Boucher, who I feel got cheated out of meeting his full potential as a goalie.
Okay. I DO think he's really cute. But more importantly, he's one of the reasons I'm a hockey fan. I love the fighting, I like the skill involved in handling a little piece of rubber with a stick while trying to keep your balance on ice skates. But I'm really fascinated by goal-tending. I don't know why. It's just... fascinating. These big guys with awesome reflexes and some sixth sense as to where the puck is heading sprawling all over the ice. You can get a real sense of a goalie's game personality right away, too. The whole good-guy team/bad-guy team theory works - you can get a sense of the team as a whole fairly easily, but you have to really watch a team for a while to get a sense of the individual players. But not a goalie. Sometimes you can get a sense of the goaltender before you even get a sense of the team. They also carry a lot of responsibility. If I were athleticly inclined, I would love to learn to play hockey and I would want to learn to play goal.
It didn't have to be Boucher. I think I would have latched on even if had been someone else. But the fact remains that it was. It was his rookie year as a player, and mine as a fan. Naturally, I latched on. He hasn't been the best goalie ever since. There have been some problems- sophomore year slump, and then an unspecified position where he was "sort of" second string, but nearly not. Basically, rather than trading him off when they got someone who was playing better (which would have given him a chance to start anew, and I think would have been FINE), they kept him around. Played him and Chechmanek (the other goalie) against eachother. Made it a competition, where neither was comfortable in his own skin and, therefore, neither was playing to his full ability. And I think that's pretty damned shitty.
I don't feel as bad for Chechmanek. He didn't get it as bad, and he's also in his early 30's (old for an athlete). Boucher, on the other hand, is in his prime at 25, but he's NOT in his prime. The building up hasn't taken place. He's going to waste the prime years getting that point where he's playing his best game. He could be there right now. And that's why I'm mad. I like this kid. I want him to be the best goal-tender he can be. I'd prefer him to be the best goaltender he can be as a Flyer, but we can't get everything we want. So I'm willing to let that go. I think Barber fucked up (Boucher has openly admitted that Barber more or less hated him- how's THAT for a confidence booster?). I'm afraid that maybe he might never reach his potential now. He's going to play for Pheonix, and I think they want him to start. He deserves this. I hope being in a new place with a new coach will be all he needs to shine. Cuz I know he could have.
Fuck you, Bill Barber. I'm glad you got fired. You vile, vile little man.
¶ 6/13/2002 09:57:00 AM
6/12/2002
You know, some day I should put up a proper links page. The links on the sidebar are my crew, and get a place of honor because I know them. Plus, if you read them all then you get the "in" jokes. Except for Neil, who's just there because he is a God and I read his blog every day. But there's a lot of other stuff that I keep up with, or stumble randomly across and think is a hoot, etc. And I never show the love. Which I should.
But not now, because work is kicking my ass today. But because I thought of it, and I was just there, you should check out Fancy Pants, Inc. . These Jersey boys make me chuckle, although they have shattered the illusion that Ryan was an entity of which there could be only one... apparently it's inherent of all South Jersians to think Gary Coleman and monkeys are the funniest thing ever. ¶ 6/12/2002 03:47:00 PM
But not now, because work is kicking my ass today. But because I thought of it, and I was just there, you should check out Fancy Pants, Inc. . These Jersey boys make me chuckle, although they have shattered the illusion that Ryan was an entity of which there could be only one... apparently it's inherent of all South Jersians to think Gary Coleman and monkeys are the funniest thing ever. ¶ 6/12/2002 03:47:00 PM
This has got to be the greatest fortune ever:
"Constant grinding can turn an iron rod into a needle."
In bed.
Or, for those who prefer, And then you DIE. ¶ 6/12/2002 01:09:00 PM
"Constant grinding can turn an iron rod into a needle."
In bed.
Or, for those who prefer, And then you DIE. ¶ 6/12/2002 01:09:00 PM
6/11/2002
6/10/2002
Dammit. It's finally inching on to time to go home. But guess who has to trek through the rain to get to her car?
¶ 6/10/2002 04:49:00 PM
*Sobbing* Make this day end!
There is nothing short of an ARMY working in the office to get ready for Orientation, and everyone is grumpy from being under eachother's feet all damn day. And they are all getting on my last nerve. ¶ 6/10/2002 04:19:00 PM
There is nothing short of an ARMY working in the office to get ready for Orientation, and everyone is grumpy from being under eachother's feet all damn day. And they are all getting on my last nerve. ¶ 6/10/2002 04:19:00 PM
I forgot to mention- Puck had another siezure on Sunday morning, likely incurred by the fact that he got his meds four and a half hours late Saturday night. We didn't get out of the emergency room until almost 10:00, and by the time we got Ryan's prescription filled and made the drive home, it was about 12:30. Puck's siezure came Sunday morning just before noon.
This was the first one since he's been on the medication. It's been nearly two months. It's weird. We give him meds twice a day, but you get lulled by force of habit, and you wonder about the effects. Basically, he isn't having any siezures, but he could, but he might not... what if we lowered the dose? When something like this happens- one dose not even missed, but four hours late, and he has a siezure. It makes you realize that it really does make a difference. ¶ 6/10/2002 02:13:00 PM
This was the first one since he's been on the medication. It's been nearly two months. It's weird. We give him meds twice a day, but you get lulled by force of habit, and you wonder about the effects. Basically, he isn't having any siezures, but he could, but he might not... what if we lowered the dose? When something like this happens- one dose not even missed, but four hours late, and he has a siezure. It makes you realize that it really does make a difference. ¶ 6/10/2002 02:13:00 PM
So this weekend was an adventure.
Alicia, Ryan and I headed up to Memphis (just North of, actually), for my little sister's Sweet Sixteen party. I have never seen a kid so happy on her birthday. In the land of "I can have anything I want" that lives in the head of every boy and girl, she wanted a Sting replica, a PS2, and FFX. But she didn't actually expect to get all that. She thought she'd opened her "big" present when she got the Sting replica (my dad found it on e-bay, and it is georgeous), so when she opened the play station, it was a site to behold. :) She said something about using the money she had saved up (a pitiful $30 or so) towards the PS2 for FFX. There was snickering and then more joy when she opened that up (which was from Ryan and me. Cuz we rock.). Turns out no one thought to get her a memory card, so the money still came in handy, though.
We played pool volleyball with her bouncy, squealing little friends, and actually had quite a good time... until Ryan flipped the four-wheeler through a barbed wire fence.
I have never been so scared in my entire life as those 30 or so seconds between seeing the four-wheeler crash and seeing Ryan pop up from behind it. I had images of a broken and bleeding Ryan underneath it, Ryan lying there with a barb stuck in his eye-ball bleeding to death, Ryan lying unnaturally with his neck broken. I leaped off the deck and took off running (insert slow motion), screaming "Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" at the top of my lungs. Not very romantic, I know. Anyway, by the time we reached it, he had stood up, so it was ok.
He ended up with road rash from hell across his back, monster bruises on his right hip and elbow, a gash on the right elbow (3 stitches), and a gash on the head (4 stitches). A few other random scrapes and bruises. Sore as a motherfucker. But he's ok.
Being from New Jersey, he denies all things Southern and Redneck. However, I have informed him that the act of flipping a four-wheeler through a barbed-wire fence has ordained him as "Country" (which sounds better than "Redneck," which is what he would have been if he had been holding a beer at the time). ¶ 6/10/2002 10:02:00 AM
Alicia, Ryan and I headed up to Memphis (just North of, actually), for my little sister's Sweet Sixteen party. I have never seen a kid so happy on her birthday. In the land of "I can have anything I want" that lives in the head of every boy and girl, she wanted a Sting replica, a PS2, and FFX. But she didn't actually expect to get all that. She thought she'd opened her "big" present when she got the Sting replica (my dad found it on e-bay, and it is georgeous), so when she opened the play station, it was a site to behold. :) She said something about using the money she had saved up (a pitiful $30 or so) towards the PS2 for FFX. There was snickering and then more joy when she opened that up (which was from Ryan and me. Cuz we rock.). Turns out no one thought to get her a memory card, so the money still came in handy, though.
We played pool volleyball with her bouncy, squealing little friends, and actually had quite a good time... until Ryan flipped the four-wheeler through a barbed wire fence.
I have never been so scared in my entire life as those 30 or so seconds between seeing the four-wheeler crash and seeing Ryan pop up from behind it. I had images of a broken and bleeding Ryan underneath it, Ryan lying there with a barb stuck in his eye-ball bleeding to death, Ryan lying unnaturally with his neck broken. I leaped off the deck and took off running (insert slow motion), screaming "Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" at the top of my lungs. Not very romantic, I know. Anyway, by the time we reached it, he had stood up, so it was ok.
He ended up with road rash from hell across his back, monster bruises on his right hip and elbow, a gash on the right elbow (3 stitches), and a gash on the head (4 stitches). A few other random scrapes and bruises. Sore as a motherfucker. But he's ok.
Being from New Jersey, he denies all things Southern and Redneck. However, I have informed him that the act of flipping a four-wheeler through a barbed-wire fence has ordained him as "Country" (which sounds better than "Redneck," which is what he would have been if he had been holding a beer at the time). ¶ 6/10/2002 10:02:00 AM
