Saturday, December 25, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Well. So now I have a job and I go to work every day. How I wish I could blog about it, because there is some crazy stuff going on there, people. I'm going to try to walk the line here because I don't want to get dooced. At least not yet. But who knows, in a few more weeks I might have a raging desire to go out in a blaze of glory, or to shove a freshly sharpened pencil through my eyeball. It's funny, the Place I Toil (PIT) is VERY interested in the total control of information flow. Overly so, in my opinion, and since I've been there two whole weeks now, I definitely know all about how they should do everything.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Wow, it's Halloween again. Last year at this time we were having a party at Hallasan Tower with our friends, and trying to perfect a treat-dispensing funnelator, because getting up to answer the door was cutting into our drinking time. This year, our friends are in Alabama, California, Virginia and Florida. Some of them have a new baby and others have one on the way. We moved halfway across the world, and oh yeah, my mother's dead. Crazy.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Sorry, no cute cat pictures or videos today. I know how popular they are, but that's the way the cookie crumbles. One day you get adorable antics by Henry, the next day it's piles of dreary crap. I would feel sorry for you, but I DID warn you. It's not my fault you don't listen!
Monday, October 18, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Sunday, October 10, 2010
You want marshmallows and tortillas for breakfast? Whatever. Here, have some whipped cream on it.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Sunday, October 3, 2010
After a long battle with lymphoma, Carol Ann McNeely died peacefully at home on September 18th, 2010. Carol was born on March 15th, 1938 and grew up on her family’s homestead farm in Rainier, Oregon. She attended Oregon State University and then worked in public service for a variety of agencies in Europe and the US, retiring from the Federal Aviation Administration's Renton Office. She began her public service career with the U.S. Army in Europe’s Judge Advocate Division in Heidelberg, West Germany in 1962. Later there were stops at General Service Administration in Auburn, Washington, and the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers in Seattle. There were also brief stints at Boeing and Auburn Hospital.
She was an avid gardener and was always delighted to share her knowledge, some good compost or a few bulbs with her friends and neighbors. Her flowers regularly garner compliments from the neighbors and passersby.
One of Carol's passions, second (or perhaps not) only to her love of gardening was 'rooting' out and writing about her family history. Her accomplishments in this arena were impressive, and she spent several years painstakingly compiling a comprehensive history of her family, resulting in a 400 page book that details the Hackenberg family in Europe, their immigration to the U.S., the trip west across the Oregon Trail and their life on the homestead, which is still in the family. While she spent all her adult years in the Seattle area, the homestead farm was never far from her thoughts and she visited there with her ‘Washington’ family often.
Carol was an enthusiastic music lover and accordion player and friends and family were always prepared for an impromptu concert; sometimes they would have to sing, sometimes they got lucky. She was a country music fan and knew all the old tunes, to sing or to play.
Carol was an intrepid traveler in her early years, leaving Oregon State University and her family for a job in Germany for the U.S. Army. She visited much of Europe during this time, even touring the U.S.S.R. during the cold war, when not many Americans had been there. Her stories from this time were legendary, like when she turned the wrong way down a one-way street and found herself surrounded by about a thousand Spanish soldiers on horseback, coming down the street the proper way. In a parade. During some of these foreign travels, Carol became an early critic of the ‘Ugly American’ syndrome when she was frequently embarrassed by the behavior of her fellow tourists. Her favorite spots to visit, though, were Cannon Beach on the Oregon Coast and Vinegar Mountain, in Eastern Oregon.
She was a great baker and a bit of a health food nut. She won a prize for her sourdough rye bread, but tried to slip her kids ‘comfrey milkshakes’ consisting of comfrey, castor oil and wheat bran. She was interested in social issues and was always looking out for the underdog; she was always the first one to offer help to anyone who needed it.
Carol was devoted to her family and loved baking with her grandkids and teaching them garden tricks: the best way to kill a slug or how to propagate a rose. She was married to Cyrus ‘Mike’ on June 4th, 1966 in church with same day receptions at the farm in Rainier, Oregon and at the family home in Renton. In lieu of flowers, remembrances may be made in her name to the Oregon Historical Society (http://www.ohs.org).
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Then, when I'm done with that, I need to devise a code so Lloyd and I can discuss things in front of the boys. Weston is an accomplished little speller now, so that's out, and Lloyd inexplicably neither speaks nor understands pig latin. Atwhay ethay uckfay, right?? He sometimes tries to use the military alphabet, so 'toy' would be tango oscar yankee, but I don't have the attention span for that. Plus I can never remember all the letters, so it's a good thing I'm not trying to call in artillery support or something. As it is, I'm worried Weston is going to get a remote control can for his birthday. So if anyone has a good code, let me know because I gotta get that clock done soon. Usually it doesn't matter if I mix up my beverages, but I'm starting a new job soon, so it's pretty urgent that I get a handle on that.
Friday, August 13, 2010
So, anywho, the other day I was all psyched when I saw 'South of Broad', Pat Conroy's latest novel, at the library. That should be good for some escapism, I thought. And his characters are always way more screwed up than me; that should be cheery! Man, what a disappointment! It's like he went to Stereotypes R Us and picked out a buggy (like that? It's my southern touch!) full of characters: arrogant white lawyer dude; plucky and smart black folks (two, please!); a couple of junior leaguers with a wild side; a coarse, rawboned mountain family with hearts of gold; and of course, the brilliant, damaged protagonist. In this book, his name is Leo King. In other, much better books, this guy's name is Ben Meacham, Tom Wingo or Will McLean. In this one, his name is.... hold on a minute, I can't remember, and I'm not even done with it yet. Oh yeah, Leo King, that's it.
He must have hired the actual writing out to someone who took a writing workshop from Danielle Steele, because the action and the dialogue is pretty much just jackhammered into your head without any hint of sublety whatsoever. It's so bad that if I didn't know better, I'd think it was Steele herself. I'd give you some examples but I can't bear to even type them. And here's the worst part so far: Leo and his shopworn collection of pals travel from Charleston to San Francisco to find one of their friends who is missing and presumed dying of A.I.D.S in the seedy part of town. They search and search, encountering all kinds of ham-handed ridiculousness, to no avail, until they meet a guy on the trolley trying to rob them. Turns out he's an ex-NFL player that they knew back in SC, fallen on hard times, and guess what? He knows where their friend is! Oh, happy day! Naturally, after they find their friend, they get this poor hapless clown into rehab and promise him a good job back home where he belongs.
Really, Pat Conroy? This is the best you can do? I don't think so. I don't know what's going on with you, but if you're tired of writing, for God's sake, do something else! As for me, I'm totally going to finish this book, that's how bad off I am. I have to go to bed now, but first thing in the morning, with my coffee. Or my wine, whichever.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Because of this belief, I thought I would get an accurate result when I put my blog in there, but all I got was a bunch of BIG FAT LIES. Here, you can read it for yourself. I got the same spiel from typealyzing both this blog and Stories from Korea:
ESFP- the performer. The entertaining and friendly type. They are especially attuned to pleasure and beauty and like to fill their surroundings with soft fabrics, bright colors and sweet smells. They live in the present moment and don't like to plan ahead- they are always at risk of exhausting themselves.
They enjoy work that makes them able to help others in a concrete and visible way. They tend to avoid conflicts and rarely initiate confrontations- qualities that can make it hard for them in management positions.
Come on! Almost every part of that is WRONG, WRONG, WRONG! Right? Then, they showed this little graphic that says that while writing, I use the 'feeling' rear part of my brain instead of the 'logical' frontal portion. What a crock, man. One only has to read a few posts to realize that my writing is completely, totally logical at all times. Like the turban shaped bicycle helmet! You can't get any more logical than that, people! Try it on your blog and tell me what you think.... I'm starting to get a little nervous that I'll never be a highly compensated CEO, or worse, that I'll swathe myself in brightly colored silks and go around smelling sweet. Ickola.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
First, Lloyd had an... errr, episode with a remote controlled flying machine, resulting in a Fourth of July celebration in the ER followed by reconstructive surgery. If you're here from the FAA, it was totally not his fault, and not reportable, just so you know. Also, he has never busted a check ride, or put a scratch on airplane. And as long as we're clear on that, we can go on to the leg trap incident, in which contrary to popular belief, I am not to blame, not even the tiniest bit. Apparently, these giant rusty devices (see photos with a shoe and my dad's head for scale) are actually mole traps of some repute. Personally I think moles are kind of cute, especially those pink naked ones at the zoo, but the people who own our garage apartment have a serious vendetta against them and plastered these medieval mole torturing contraptions all over the yard. Unfortunately, they were deployed incorrectly and failed in their mission, unless their mission was actually to snare a small child. In that case, they succeeded admirably. After which they were smashed with cinder blocks and thrown over the fence. The traps, not the small child. Grateful moles can send wine. Soon would be best, and plenty of it! Otherwise, I can't guarantee protection in the future.
Anyway, the small child was fine, because the trap closed over the side of his foot where his extra large plastic yellow shoes had some excess sweatshop material. The shoe was clamped on, leaving a tiny indentation in the foot, though from the screaming you would have thought the whole thing was ripped clean off, leaving a bloody spurting stump.
And on a totally unrelated and way more cheerful note, I've been thinking again. This new idea will finally net me that Nobel prize I've been unsuccessfully angling for for so long, I'm sure of it! Check this out: Vaccuum cleaner bags for charity! Think about it, you send your full vaccuum bag to a family in a third world country. It saves space in the landfill and supplies their every need for a week or more! Popcorn, Cheerios and cheese shreds to eat, toys, dog hair to knit into clothes, fingernail clippings and sticks to fashion into tools to generate income, and when the bag is empty, they can use it to carry their baby around in, or for a home for Grandma. Then the week is over, and you send them another one! The best ideas are the simplest ones, I always say. They pay the Nobel prize in wine now, right?
Friday, July 2, 2010
Okay, that's better. I hope your shield is on good; the enemy is strong today. Anyway, my sister and I were out with the kids the other day, and we went to the gym at local community center. It was getting on to lunchtime and we were just about to go fill them up with
The lunches were weird, no doubt about it. They came in a plastic shell, like a Lunchables box, or what I've heard Lunchables boxes might look like from someone who once bought one. You know, with little compartments and a sheet of cellophane sealed over the top. They had milk AND juice, and there were several different meals, handed out randomly. One of ours had breaded chicken balls, shaped like little drumlets, a brown roll and a pack of gummy candy. And by chicken balls, I mean round pieces of chicken, not rooster testicles, in case you were wondering. The other ones had stips of breaded chicken over a salad of lettuce, pod peas and shredded cheese along with crackers, and someone at a table next to ours had a wrap of some sort and strawberries. Oh, and each one had a strange metal colored little wafer, about the size of a rice grain, right on top. They weren't half bad, but everything was cold, and the kids didn't care for it except for the gummies and the crackers. Weston even stated fairly loudly for the record, and for the staff and the other lunchers, that 'The food here isn't very good.' The whole thing was quite puzzling, until we found out that these were Government funded meals, and they have them all summer, when school isn't in session. So I guess that's good, right? It's win-win. We get free food and the grocery outlets and animal hospitals get rid of their leftovers. We're definitely going to breakfast next time.
Huh, that's weird. I'm feeling this irresistible urge to drink some high fructose corn syrup sprinkled with MSG in a clear plastic cup and watch some network tv, then head to the mall. I'm going to need a new hat for sure. Damn you, Government wafers!
Thursday, July 1, 2010
If you've been reading here for a while, or if you used to read Stories from Korea, you may also recall my frequent objections to many of the most disgusting practices of big business and the assistance they get from our government and legal system, or as they call it, 'business as usual'. But no more. This latest affront to my intellectual property rights has pushed me over the edge. You win, soul-sucking bastards. I hope you're happy, Supreme Court: I get it. Corporations ARE more important than people. Okay, elected representatives: It's not just okay for the laws of the land to be written by hacks funded by the very industries that require oversight; it's BETTER! Enjoy the swag! You deserve it! Thanks for doing such a great job. I don't know what I was thinking before.
I've been assimilated; what's good for the Board of Directors and the House of Representatives IS good for America! AND for the rest of the world, hallelujah! So with that in mind, I offer up all my best products and schemes , free to a good corporate home. This includes such gems as the ninja flight attendant airline commercial, the mini-beers, the fully automatic funnelator, the fully completed childrens' story/screenplay set in the near future about how the Canadians have bombed the US to smithereens, my various housekeeping breakthroughs, and my newest brainstorm: Coke with the Excedrin already in it. This one would work for Pepsi, Gatorade and coffee, too. Surefire winners, every one of them. Gold mines, I tell you. Well, except for maybe the story with those dastardly neighbors to the north. It might be a little too apocalyptic for the grade school set. It does have a stellar vomiting scene, though- it would light up the big screen. Where are you now, Disney? Dreamworks? Probably busy setting up some more of those nifty product placement deals, all for the greater good.
Take heed, food giants, pharmaceutical barons,entertainment behemoths and HFCS peddlers to us unwashed masses! It's all there for the taking. If you would do just one thing, though. Maybe you could throw a few extra bucks to those lobbyists of ya'alls to clear up that pesky labeling issue. We consumers don't need to know all that complicated chemical stuff about what's in all that stuff you make. We know you're just looking out for our best interests. Thanks, you're the best. But you knew that. And so do I.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
And, just in case you didn't believe me about the clothies, you can look here to see just a small selection of the diaper fashion that's readily available.
I know you're really just waiting for the irrelevant aside, so here goes: C Mike's comment about the straw in the bra idea not being all that original reminded me of the first time I went to one of those dumb flying squadron parties where you're supposed to dress up in a flight suit. The unadorned, standard Air Force flight suit can be seen here, if you are unfamiliar with them. Having never been to one of these soirees before, I didn't realize the idea was to create some slu.tty get-up out of the flight suit. Instead, I racked my brain to come up with a clever 'pilot' costume, and the only thing I could think of was a pilot whale. I stuffed pillows down the suit and put an aluminum funnel on my head with a silver stocking over it. For a spout, you know. Then I put a ziploc bag filled with water in the side pocket and ran some tubing up the inside of the stocking and up the funnel. I kept my hand in my pocket and squeezed the bag to squirt water up the tube and out the spout. It was a neat party trick and everyone liked it. Then it was time for the judging and I squeezed the bag too hard and it broke in the pocket and the spout didn't work and everyone just thought I was a weird girl in a fat flight suit that wet her pants and some tan little twinkie in a revealing Hello Kitty themed flightsuit won. After that I put beer in the bag and rerouted the tubing to my mouth. I hate Hello Kitty.
Monday, June 28, 2010
So in the meantime, I present to you the Dead Cat Line, DCL for short. The logo will be a line drawn silhouette of a smushed cat; I'm still working the bugs out. Disposable diaper-included fashions for babies and toddlers for all occasions! Wedding finery, loungewear, athletic apparel, you name it! DCL will have it all.
And DCL is not just for babies! I've noticed a few other fashion needs around here. For just one example, we have a lot of people from India and Pakistan here and I often see large and elaborate turbans on men. The other day, I saw a turbaned guy on a bike, without a helmet and I thought, someone should make a bike helmet that looks like a turban! Well, turbaned biker, you no longer have to sacrifice safety for cultural expression; DCL is here to help you out!
The possibilities are endless! Know how when you're gigantically pregnant and you're dying for a drink but you can't have one because everyone will glare at you like you're viciously beating an adorable kitten in the street? How about a maternity dress with a discreet chest pocket with a sturdy waterproff pouch and straw system for your beer, wine, diet coke or red bull? DCL can even custom make a thermal pocket so you can drink coffee to your heart's content without suffering from society's disapproval! See what I mean? DCL is a surefire hit! Contact me at firstname.lastname@example.org to contribute your own ideas and/or start up capital! No amount too large or too small; contact me today!
Friday, June 18, 2010
Edwards Air Force Base
State of Missouri
State of Louisiana (a perennial list-topper)
I never thought Missouri would make the list, but there you have it. It has a lot going for it, what with that cool arch, and tons of my awesome friends live there, so it's pretty much a downer to have to put it on the list. And what of Target, you ask? How could our good old pal Target make the list? That red -spotted mecca I dreamed of from Osan while desperately searching the BX for some out of stock sundry? Surely I must have had too much wine, you say? Well, maybe, but no thanks to you,
When I went to the register, I was carded. And let me just say I have reached the legal drinking age. In fact, before too long I will have reached it twice. For identification, I presented my 'retired' status military ID card, which will not scan on their machines. I do this on purpose, because I am opposed to this ubiquitious scanning scam on privacy grounds. Today they want to scan your driver's license for personal information to be stored in their marketing database; tomorrow they're going to install a shunt in your spine so they can just start sucking you dry without even bothering with your debit card. You heard it here first. Didn't you guys ever see Tank Girl? We should all be very afraid. And I don't know why it only has 4.7 stars because it is the MOST FANTASTIC MOVIE EVER. Wankers.
Anyway, I was informed that because my ID wouldn't scan they require two clerks to verify my birth date. I waited patiently while the cashier called for assistance. I was quiet while she flipped her flashing light on. My tolerance started to wane, though, when she walked over to the customer service desk searching for an appropriate staff member to look at my birth date. I guess not all of them are qualifed to calculate my age because she passed about ten of those red shirt and khaki pant clad jokers. But when she asked me to wait while she rang up the person behind me, I couldn't stand it anymore and told her she could keep the wine. She probably needs it more than me anyway, especially when they come after her with the spine shunt. They always start with the employees. Take heed, people: this kind of thing NEVER happens at the thrift store.