It’s one of those ultrapleasant weekends. I love weekends like this. Yesterday, I was able to sleep as late as I wanted, I then dragged my carcass downstarirs, drank a bottle of seltzer and a HUGE thing of iced coffee, and spent the rest of the day and half the night playing WoW, PvPing with my favorite game buddies. We broke, for dinner, went out got some great food, and came home, and got right back in game, and in Teamspeak. OOH Mopped up. We cleaned house. We actually won a few rounds. In a setting where the Horde is way more organized and dedicated, winning not one, but three spins through Arathi Basin, is a huge feat.
While I was being a gamer bum, inside, sitting around in boxers and a tee shirt, Irv and Alden landscaped this really barren section of the yard. Last week, they pulled out like, 9 trees (the ones going down the driveway, for those of you that know the house) and…it was pretty desolate. Yesterday, Irv and Alden went on a shopping spree, and bought a couple dozen trees and flowers and stuff, from Home Depot, and have been doing, like Monster Yard, ever since. The whole strip is all fresh black mulch dotted with those winter-cabbagey looking plants, and mums. There’s a spot near the house that curves and tapers into a long point, that he finished with white goose-egg stone. Very classy. He’s an arteest.
Today, I get up to Irv saying “get up in 5 minutes for breakfast!” I rolled outta bed around 9, mumbling and grumbling. I mean, I *was* up till 3 kicking ass… At the table is a yummy breakfast, and a cup of coffee, all laid out, just for me. I’m so lucky. Irv and Alden then run out to some building supply place, and come home with 2 yards each of red chip stone, and blue river pebbles…I watch them unload it, wondering what they have up their sleeve… Then I go inside and read. I’ve been reading Vonnegut’s Breakfast of Champions. One of the most quoteable books I’ve ever read, by the way. I can hear them landscaping…I know it’s gonna be good.
I just came back in from outside, and Alden’s out there, watering the new flower bed. It’s this curved area between the front door and the back door, that we had no idea what to do with. Well, now it’s dotted with small evergreens and holly bushes of varying species. Alden’s out there watering them calling them his “babies” He’e even named the bushes… “that one’s Spiky, and this low one is Green, and here’s Pricklepine, and Bushy, and Poofy” He named them, and adopted them. He vows to come out here and water them every day. Irv really did something cool with the stone, it’s mostly red, but the ends are curved off, and finished with a the grayish-blue, it looks like waves of grey stone lapping over the red, and the back corner was rounded. The red wends a path, enhanced by the grey. It’s all very dramatic looking.
Oh, and I’m only spending so much time inside because I have a nasty sinus infection. It started as my usual September allergies, but…blegh, with all this Guam-like 85 degree 100% humidity we’re having, it quickly turned into a sinus infection. So, I’ve been laying low. Pollen murders me.
9.18.2005
9.11.2005
9-11-01
I posted this on ACF, in response to a "where were you on 9-11-01" thread. Normally I don't talk about it, don't think about it too hard, but that thread got me writing. It was a very impactful thing in my life, many people from our town, and our area were killed and many more lost family members. We live in a huge commuter area. The area was in a state of depression for months, I remember Peter going to funerals every single week, just about, clear into January, because of all this. Most of his office was wiped out. A friend of ours was working in her high-rise office, a few miles away, with a clear view of the building, and watched the whole thing unfold, in great detail, from her desk. She had to go through therapy for over a year. I figured I'd copy this over here, just to remember. It was like the entire state went into deep mourning. No one smiled, much, people went around with a somber air. It was really remarkable. Every store, every organization had huge things setup for donations. We went to Costco 2 days later, and they had huge trailers open in the front, with guys loading stuff in. You could go into the store, with a list, and buy up needed stuff, and the guys would load it in. We donated about $300 worth of stuff, cases of water, dogfood, clean socks, batteries, nonperishable snacks and food, for the rescue workers. But, this is where I was, at that moment.
The first plane hit at 8:42, and I was tending to my son's morning routine. He was only 3, we were getting ready to go to daycare. My husband called at 8:45, and yelled for me to put on the TV, or go outside and look across the water, I did both. I ran outside to a thin column of smoke rising over the water, and watched the live coverage of the plane smacking into the building over and over, and the newscasters being like "what a horrible accident, I wonder what happened, was it an equipment failure?" Then, the second one hit, and at first, the newscasters (and everyone else, it seemed) thought it was just another replay of the first one, from another angle. Then, the truth came out, and it was the second plane, the second tower. I couldn't even go outside to look, after that, it was just TOO real. I skipped school, and Alden stayed home with me, that day.
I sat there riveted, on the corner of my bed, with Alden in my lap, just watching agape, as the whole tragedy unfolded. I had all the TVs on in the house, I just kept drifting from room to room, in this zombie like state. It hit me the hardest, though, when the buildings fell, because before that, there was hope. Rescuers were there, people were getting out, getting saved. When they fell, it was the ultimate finality. I spent time calling the people I know that worked there, Joe, the guy across the street, Pete, my stepbrother in law. As far as I knew they were trapped in there. Hell, as far as Joe's wife knew, he was. He wasn't, he happened to be working in the building across the courtyard, and they all evacuated when the plane hit, but couldn't get out of the city till much later. Pete was late for work that day, because his youngest daughter made him take her to school, so he was on a train going into work.
Friends and family from out of state called throughout the day, seeing how our area was, if anything happened to us, because we're right across the water from it. My dad was particularly worried. I remember him trying to convince me to move to Guam, heh. Nothing happened to us, obviously, but the smell, and the smoke. The air was filled with this ozone-y smelling dust for over a week afterward. I've never smelled anything like it, and I probably never will again, but it defines the "smell of death" for me. I live on a main road, going down to the beachfront, and all day, it was bumper to bumper traffic, of people filing past, to go see. It was horrible, that was the worst sight to me. It looked like the majestic NY skyline, with its front teeth busted out. There were these two pillars of HEAVY black smoke, rising from the area for a few days afterward. The weather was crisp and beautiful, with a pure blue sky, with these two black streaks, that seemingly went on for miles, marking it.
The first plane hit at 8:42, and I was tending to my son's morning routine. He was only 3, we were getting ready to go to daycare. My husband called at 8:45, and yelled for me to put on the TV, or go outside and look across the water, I did both. I ran outside to a thin column of smoke rising over the water, and watched the live coverage of the plane smacking into the building over and over, and the newscasters being like "what a horrible accident, I wonder what happened, was it an equipment failure?" Then, the second one hit, and at first, the newscasters (and everyone else, it seemed) thought it was just another replay of the first one, from another angle. Then, the truth came out, and it was the second plane, the second tower. I couldn't even go outside to look, after that, it was just TOO real. I skipped school, and Alden stayed home with me, that day.
I sat there riveted, on the corner of my bed, with Alden in my lap, just watching agape, as the whole tragedy unfolded. I had all the TVs on in the house, I just kept drifting from room to room, in this zombie like state. It hit me the hardest, though, when the buildings fell, because before that, there was hope. Rescuers were there, people were getting out, getting saved. When they fell, it was the ultimate finality. I spent time calling the people I know that worked there, Joe, the guy across the street, Pete, my stepbrother in law. As far as I knew they were trapped in there. Hell, as far as Joe's wife knew, he was. He wasn't, he happened to be working in the building across the courtyard, and they all evacuated when the plane hit, but couldn't get out of the city till much later. Pete was late for work that day, because his youngest daughter made him take her to school, so he was on a train going into work.
Friends and family from out of state called throughout the day, seeing how our area was, if anything happened to us, because we're right across the water from it. My dad was particularly worried. I remember him trying to convince me to move to Guam, heh. Nothing happened to us, obviously, but the smell, and the smoke. The air was filled with this ozone-y smelling dust for over a week afterward. I've never smelled anything like it, and I probably never will again, but it defines the "smell of death" for me. I live on a main road, going down to the beachfront, and all day, it was bumper to bumper traffic, of people filing past, to go see. It was horrible, that was the worst sight to me. It looked like the majestic NY skyline, with its front teeth busted out. There were these two pillars of HEAVY black smoke, rising from the area for a few days afterward. The weather was crisp and beautiful, with a pure blue sky, with these two black streaks, that seemingly went on for miles, marking it.
9.08.2005
I love Sinatra
There's something very cool about riding around with Sinatra blaring. "...cause I loooooove you....and the way you look...tonight" Sexy. Sexy man. So cool. The music alone drops the temperature in the car, by 20 degrees. Did it just get cooler in here? No, Sinatra just came on.
9.07.2005
More on Mom
So I was telling Irv today, about how I made my mom cry. His comment was “the asshole is not cutting her grass anymore.”
This brings me to my complaint, and this second entry. I might actually tell her this to her face, if she starts with me again. We bend over backwards to help her. We come over there to install things, fix things, move things, etc. I’ve sent Irv over there, to “move this TV upstairs for me” real quick, after work, and had him come home 3 hours later, pissed, hungry, tired, because a simple “move this here” turned out to be a “Oh, you can’t get it up the stairs? Oh yeah, that stereo cabinet is blocking the way, well that has to go upstairs as well…and while you’re up there, help me hook this TV up, to the surround sound…oh, that’s in a box downstairs, too would you go get it?” But…she watches Alden for us when we need it, and we don’t mind helping, family is good for that.
We’ve asked her a million times to stop dumping off shit at our house, toys, used clothes, just…shit. We’re not some fucking charity family that we need her to go buy garbage bags of clothes at yard sales for Alden’s school wardrobe. That’s the one thing that would greatly improve relations. I mean, we have a lot of problems getting along anyway, but that one simple thing would make life so much better. One thing. Can she do it? No. The other thing is respecting that I am my own person, and I’m capable of making my own decisions, and raising my own family, without her CONSTANT “suggestions”. This goes WAY above and beyond normal parental advice. Look how she reacted when I told her not to put the teeball thing there. Look how she responded when Irv got upset, he’s now an “asshole” getting upset. She comes here, and opens my dishwasher, then says “you’re not loading it from the back to the front, that’s all wrong” and will hound me till I either tell her to stop, or till I rearrange it. If I tell her to stop, she’d ‘fix’ it to her liking anyway. IN MY FUCKING HOUSE. She comes over and rearranges Alden’s furniture, on the sly “I’m just gonna help him put away his laundry…” We go in there, his bed is against another wall. She has taken to hiding stuff in his room, actually sneaking bags into his room of second hand garbage toys. It’s a sickness.
I got off my point. The point I was trying to make was that we ask her for two things. One, to respect that this is Lisa’s House, and Lisa has Her Own Way of doing things. And not to cover us in a deluge of crap.
In return for this, we jump at her beck and call, moving her stuff, Irv landscapes her yard, and cuts her grass every single week, he does all her gardening pretty much. We housesit for them, take them places, put up with Earl The Human Fungus, and…the thanks we get is “he’s an asshole”.
It’s very frustrating. This thought makes me even sadder: She’s my only relative on that side, and I’m her only ‘blood’ relative. She has no siblings, her cousin is in England, her parents are dead, I have no siblings (half brother, but he’s my dad’s not hers). She has Debbie, Lou, and Dianne, her stepkids, but…really it’s just she and I. In other words, I’m going to be the one taking care of her, later in life. Serious changes will have to be made, in order for that to happen.
This brings me to my complaint, and this second entry. I might actually tell her this to her face, if she starts with me again. We bend over backwards to help her. We come over there to install things, fix things, move things, etc. I’ve sent Irv over there, to “move this TV upstairs for me” real quick, after work, and had him come home 3 hours later, pissed, hungry, tired, because a simple “move this here” turned out to be a “Oh, you can’t get it up the stairs? Oh yeah, that stereo cabinet is blocking the way, well that has to go upstairs as well…and while you’re up there, help me hook this TV up, to the surround sound…oh, that’s in a box downstairs, too would you go get it?” But…she watches Alden for us when we need it, and we don’t mind helping, family is good for that.
We’ve asked her a million times to stop dumping off shit at our house, toys, used clothes, just…shit. We’re not some fucking charity family that we need her to go buy garbage bags of clothes at yard sales for Alden’s school wardrobe. That’s the one thing that would greatly improve relations. I mean, we have a lot of problems getting along anyway, but that one simple thing would make life so much better. One thing. Can she do it? No. The other thing is respecting that I am my own person, and I’m capable of making my own decisions, and raising my own family, without her CONSTANT “suggestions”. This goes WAY above and beyond normal parental advice. Look how she reacted when I told her not to put the teeball thing there. Look how she responded when Irv got upset, he’s now an “asshole” getting upset. She comes here, and opens my dishwasher, then says “you’re not loading it from the back to the front, that’s all wrong” and will hound me till I either tell her to stop, or till I rearrange it. If I tell her to stop, she’d ‘fix’ it to her liking anyway. IN MY FUCKING HOUSE. She comes over and rearranges Alden’s furniture, on the sly “I’m just gonna help him put away his laundry…” We go in there, his bed is against another wall. She has taken to hiding stuff in his room, actually sneaking bags into his room of second hand garbage toys. It’s a sickness.
I got off my point. The point I was trying to make was that we ask her for two things. One, to respect that this is Lisa’s House, and Lisa has Her Own Way of doing things. And not to cover us in a deluge of crap.
In return for this, we jump at her beck and call, moving her stuff, Irv landscapes her yard, and cuts her grass every single week, he does all her gardening pretty much. We housesit for them, take them places, put up with Earl The Human Fungus, and…the thanks we get is “he’s an asshole”.
It’s very frustrating. This thought makes me even sadder: She’s my only relative on that side, and I’m her only ‘blood’ relative. She has no siblings, her cousin is in England, her parents are dead, I have no siblings (half brother, but he’s my dad’s not hers). She has Debbie, Lou, and Dianne, her stepkids, but…really it’s just she and I. In other words, I’m going to be the one taking care of her, later in life. Serious changes will have to be made, in order for that to happen.
Which is better?
The lime green accented grey page?
Or this, all black...
This is Bloggar software, now, rather than Blogger for Word. I like them both equally I think. This has a lot of neat features, specifically for blogging. That one has the comfort of being usable from such a familiar environ. Oh decisions, decisions.
Black? Grey? BfW or Bloggar? My blog-life is in an upheaval, right now.
Or this, all black...
This is Bloggar software, now, rather than Blogger for Word. I like them both equally I think. This has a lot of neat features, specifically for blogging. That one has the comfort of being usable from such a familiar environ. Oh decisions, decisions.
Black? Grey? BfW or Bloggar? My blog-life is in an upheaval, right now.
New toy...
Oh, Glee! I just implemented “Blogger for Word” a tool that lets me blog from Word! Grammar will be good.
Only…Word doesn’t even recognize blog, or blogger, as a word, so now I have all these red underlined words. How ironic.
Let’s see which is better, this one, or the Bloggar software.
Only…Word doesn’t even recognize blog, or blogger, as a word, so now I have all these red underlined words. How ironic.
Let’s see which is better, this one, or the Bloggar software.
She's finally snapped.
I just made my mom cry. And, I kicked her out of my house.
Today, she was worse than she was yesterday. I mean, yesterday she was bad enough. First, she calls, and I can tell when she's looking for a fight.
"Where's Alden?"
"In his room, cleaning it."
"On the first day of school? Why? Don't you think he's tired enough? Why don't you do it for him? What kind of person are you? Why are you so mean to him?"
"Because I didn't make the mess."
"Oh, you're terrible!"
"If you called just to give me shit, I'm hanging up now."
She didn't call, just to give me shit. She called to tell me she was coming over, to give Alden some stuff. Fine, whatever. More crap. Luiz was here, I didn't feel like getting into it.
She shows up, outside, Alden runs to meet her, and they're playing outside for awhile. She brought a tee ball thing. We have a huge yard, we have a backyard filled with play-equipment for Alden, a huge grassy unlandscaped area for him to play. We have a very nice front yard, elaborately landscaped, always a work in progress. Alden doesn't play in the front yard. A) because I don't want him near the street. B) because I want to have a pretty section of the yard, uncluttered of toys. Simple enough, right? She plants this fucking teeball thing in the front corner of the front yard. 6 feet away from a main road. Then, as if that weren't enough, she dismantled a flagstone wall, to pile flagstones around the base of the tee, so it didn't fall over when Alden hit it. What. EVER. I let her go. She was in a *mood*.
She comes in, later, walks in, first thing she says is "this house is a disaster, how do you live?" then, Luiz was stretched out on a futon thing, on the floor (fully dressed, wide awake, reading) and she looks him over, and goes "what, are you DRUNK? What are you doing on the FLOOR in the middle of the DAY" Was like "ok, mom...time to stop harassing my guest..." She left. At that point, it was chuckle-worthy. "What a psycho."
Irv, of course, came home and had a conniption, later. He moved the teeball thing, yelling about how she took apart the wall, etc. He put it in the back yard, rebuilt the wall.
But, it doesn't end there, oh no. I wish it did.
TODAY, she came over, because she had "so many new clothes, for Alden, brand new things she bought for school this year" and she was pissed that WE went out and bought him school clothes, when she had done so already. So, she comes over just a while ago, with this huge bag. Get this. Inside the bag are 4 clearance sale tee shirts. Some nice, some not so much, but at least those were new, and 6 pairs of pants...that we bagged up and gave her when we moved in beacause he'd either grown out of them or we didn't like them. He wears a size 8, all the stuff she gave me was size 6. I'm still being pleasant at this point. I even thanked her. I was like "yeah, he can use some of this stuff, I'll clean out his drawers and bag up the stuff that doesn't fit anymore." And that was that. Then she makes the comment:
"I see Irv moved the teeball thing...well, now it's in the wrong place, it's all wrong, if he hits it and runs around from there, he could break his leg"
To which I replied "better than running on to a main road, though. Oh yeah, and Irv freaked out because you took down half his flagstone wall, to steady the thing, so try not to do that anymore" with half a smile.
Then, she lost it. "Well your husband is just an asshole, how dare he yell about that? He's such an asshole!"
"I think maybe you should go now."
"What?! I'm not leaving, what are you saying? I do nice things for you and you kick me out of your house?"
"You've been looking for a fight since yesterday, You won't disrespect me like this it's not right. You can't talk to me, to my guests, or about my husband that way, I'm sorry, go now."
"boohoohoohoo"
"Bye."
"*sniffle* I was going to come over later to play with Alden, but now I'm not! *wail*"
"Bye."
I think she's finally snapped. I mean who DOES that?!
This was taken verbatim, even, because she JUST left, in a huff, so I remember it perfectly. I'm half expecting her, or my stepdad to call me, and bitch me out further.
Today, she was worse than she was yesterday. I mean, yesterday she was bad enough. First, she calls, and I can tell when she's looking for a fight.
"Where's Alden?"
"In his room, cleaning it."
"On the first day of school? Why? Don't you think he's tired enough? Why don't you do it for him? What kind of person are you? Why are you so mean to him?"
"Because I didn't make the mess."
"Oh, you're terrible!"
"If you called just to give me shit, I'm hanging up now."
She didn't call, just to give me shit. She called to tell me she was coming over, to give Alden some stuff. Fine, whatever. More crap. Luiz was here, I didn't feel like getting into it.
She shows up, outside, Alden runs to meet her, and they're playing outside for awhile. She brought a tee ball thing. We have a huge yard, we have a backyard filled with play-equipment for Alden, a huge grassy unlandscaped area for him to play. We have a very nice front yard, elaborately landscaped, always a work in progress. Alden doesn't play in the front yard. A) because I don't want him near the street. B) because I want to have a pretty section of the yard, uncluttered of toys. Simple enough, right? She plants this fucking teeball thing in the front corner of the front yard. 6 feet away from a main road. Then, as if that weren't enough, she dismantled a flagstone wall, to pile flagstones around the base of the tee, so it didn't fall over when Alden hit it. What. EVER. I let her go. She was in a *mood*.
She comes in, later, walks in, first thing she says is "this house is a disaster, how do you live?" then, Luiz was stretched out on a futon thing, on the floor (fully dressed, wide awake, reading) and she looks him over, and goes "what, are you DRUNK? What are you doing on the FLOOR in the middle of the DAY" Was like "ok, mom...time to stop harassing my guest..." She left. At that point, it was chuckle-worthy. "What a psycho."
Irv, of course, came home and had a conniption, later. He moved the teeball thing, yelling about how she took apart the wall, etc. He put it in the back yard, rebuilt the wall.
But, it doesn't end there, oh no. I wish it did.
TODAY, she came over, because she had "so many new clothes, for Alden, brand new things she bought for school this year" and she was pissed that WE went out and bought him school clothes, when she had done so already. So, she comes over just a while ago, with this huge bag. Get this. Inside the bag are 4 clearance sale tee shirts. Some nice, some not so much, but at least those were new, and 6 pairs of pants...that we bagged up and gave her when we moved in beacause he'd either grown out of them or we didn't like them. He wears a size 8, all the stuff she gave me was size 6. I'm still being pleasant at this point. I even thanked her. I was like "yeah, he can use some of this stuff, I'll clean out his drawers and bag up the stuff that doesn't fit anymore." And that was that. Then she makes the comment:
"I see Irv moved the teeball thing...well, now it's in the wrong place, it's all wrong, if he hits it and runs around from there, he could break his leg"
To which I replied "better than running on to a main road, though. Oh yeah, and Irv freaked out because you took down half his flagstone wall, to steady the thing, so try not to do that anymore" with half a smile.
Then, she lost it. "Well your husband is just an asshole, how dare he yell about that? He's such an asshole!"
"I think maybe you should go now."
"What?! I'm not leaving, what are you saying? I do nice things for you and you kick me out of your house?"
"You've been looking for a fight since yesterday, You won't disrespect me like this it's not right. You can't talk to me, to my guests, or about my husband that way, I'm sorry, go now."
"boohoohoohoo"
"Bye."
"*sniffle* I was going to come over later to play with Alden, but now I'm not! *wail*"
"Bye."
I think she's finally snapped. I mean who DOES that?!
This was taken verbatim, even, because she JUST left, in a huff, so I remember it perfectly. I'm half expecting her, or my stepdad to call me, and bitch me out further.
9.03.2005
I had to delete the really good one...
Because of REALLY shitty coding. But, I'm a "Quester" if that means anything.
Here's another one! Much less meaningful, but cute.
Here's another one! Much less meaningful, but cute.
I am 14% Idiot.
I am not annoying at all. In fact most people come to me for advice. Of course they annoy the hell out of me. But what can I do? I am smarter than most people.
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