Wherein I confess to hating winter more than anything

Before I get started here, I need to comment on my last entry. I think I was really harsh on Little Miss NO the other day. I want people to know that I don't HATE this child, I wrote from passion and frustration. Yesterday I went to drop Geoff off and we walked past the room just so I could say hi to all "My Kids." I made sure to really say hi to her and give her love. She blew me kisses and didn't say no once. She even took my hand and wanted me to come into the room and read.

I feel guilty today about how I felt about her the other day. She is actually really sweet. She's very helpful. She wants to be the teacher and give out the projects and help the children get up on things. There is a supportive streak and a giving heart in that kid. I would like to say I'm going to actively support that in her as often as I can.

News of my dislike of this child has spread through the staff, and I'm heartily afraid her grandmother, who teaches in the three-year old room, hates me. I don't want her to. And I am afraid of this woman, so I don't dare say a damn thing. Meh.

On to the actual Journal Entry. First of all -- Have you been following Mary Ann's Antarctic Journals? Here's Aaron and Amber, one of the other field engineers, after they fashioned a McGuyver-esque drill head out of an aluminum can. All I gotta say is -- the boy looks happy. I still can't believe my buddy is on the bottom of the globe. Damn.

Secondly, the title of today's entry involves me and ice, continuing the theme from Aaron's involvement in ice. Only his may be a lot more fun than mine.

As you know, we currently have 8 billion feet of snow on the ground... and on our roof.

Our gutters are filled with snow and ice. The fascia boards on the side of the house in one location have decided to wick all the melting water in the universe into the building. Water is seeping in all over the place.

Two nights ago at about 1am, Doug woke up and sat in bed for a while... he heard the dropping. The dripping. The dripping...

He put the light on and got me up (because he can't see well) and we saw that the cedar walls of our closet and the acoustic ceiling inside the closet were wicking the water to a dumping point - the frame of the sliding door.

We opened the sliding door and moved a mess of stuff out of the way. The water was dripping from two locations, so we put a pot under the drip with an old T-shirt in it to absorb the noise, and resigned ourselves to go back to bed.

Yesterday, the water was dripping steadily. I moved more stuff out of the closet and it's wide open and airy, so hopefully the carpeting and everything in there which is getting damp will not be stinky. I was standing at the kitchen sink yesterday doing dishes when I suddenly felt drops on my arm. The window frame above the kitchen sink is soaked, and the venetian blinds were wicking the water down the vertical cords, resulting in two points of steady drip. I positioned plants under the drips, which was good for the plants, but I'm pissed that the leaking is spreading in that direction. God. I'm going to be so pissed, SO pissed, if the water wicks through the insulation out into the middle of the dining area where we've replaced the ceiling (even though we still haven't plastered/joint compounded and finished the damn thing).

Some ice melt, a pitch fork, an industrial space heater, and then some serious water proof paint and caulk for where the fascia board inserts into the blue trim would be my solution.

The blue trim is the wall that our closet is on, and right where that arrow is pointing on my doctored picture is the entry point. We've had this problem a few times before, and every winter I say "Damn, we have to take those gutters OFF and totally waterproof that entire damn area."

But. We have yet to do this.

When we first moved into the house, I was in the bedroom and water was dripping onto my bed. We had JUST had a roof installed by our friend Todd, and I was pissed, thinking ... there is NO way this roof is leaking, it's brand new! I climbed up there (yes, I was pregnant, about 7 months) and looked all over in the pouring rain and slush for an entry point. I brought a shovel. I shoveled the roof (it's a long and flat slightly angled surface so the water runs down it and off behind my bedroom). When Todd put up the roof, he put up new facia boards and then gutters on top of them, but we never painted them. He told us they were weather treated and were all set, we could paint the trim later if we wanted, painting around the gutters, but that any additional water proofing wouldn't be an issue.

I think he lied.

I called him and he came over, put a patch right over where my bed is under the roof. The water wouldn't stop, and between the two of us we finally figured out that the facia board he put up was absorbing the water, and the insulation inside the house was wicking the water like an oil lantern wick until it could travel no further. So he and I spent the afternoon cleaning out the gutters.

Doug removed the downspout attachment to the gutters (the little curvy part) because the bulk of the problem wasn't the gutters themselves but the downspout.

The downspout would freeze solid because the north face of our house never gets enough sun to keep them warm and the water flowing. Taking the downspout attachment off meant that the gutters could easily be drained with some ice melt and that little hole could then freely spew the liquid. We haven't had a problem in a long time, but this is a lot of ice and snow, and frankly, I'm kicking myself for our having not installed heaters on them or just taking them off the house all together.

Stupid Fucking Gutters.

So I'm on drip patrol. I'm in all the exterior facing rooms of the house looking for drips. Our bedroom and the bathroom currently don't have ceilings, we didn't make it to those rooms yet, so I'm going to reach up and in and make sure the insulation is not touching the facia on the inside of the wall, and hope that this makes a difference.

God. I hate winter.

So, how's by you?

Staining the built-in

We survived the storm.

Now, all the bread I bought will get moldy. Fudge.

---

The weekend was a mostly stay-at-home event due to that weather. Jessie spent the day at a friend's house (the "K" girl who was in my group for the field trip earlier this year, the slightly odd one). So it was quiet around here, and I got Geoff's room completely cleaned up, again.

Sunday was sort of rainy and icy, and all seven members of the choir, plus the organist, the pastor and six parishoners turned up for church. It was kind of sad. The roads weren't that bad. But Sunday School was cancelled (the Sunday School director obviously had worse roadage near her house than I did...) which was why there were no kids and hence no adults in attendance. Our 10am service is all families and a few older single people.

We all stayed after church for coffee. It was a lot of fun, and I'm glad I went... normally I'd be wrestling with Geoff or Jessie'd be whining in my face that she wanted to go to her friend across the street's house for the day.

Football watching was fun. We almost had skin failure when Tommy Maddox of the Steelers was shown splinted up and being hauled off the field with an obvious back/neck injury (nearly jumped online to email Leatheregg, Chadster, CJK and Smitty all at once screaming my head off). But I restrained myself. I almost started crying when I saw him there, they flashed over during the game they broadcasted here (Bills. yawn).

He's got an amazing story -- He is this year's "Kurt Warner" in "amazing stories" kinds of ways. He was an insurance salesman, wanted to get back to football... He sent out letters begging any NFL franchise to give him a chance and the Steelers got him. He's had a great year so far stepping in as the QB for the struggling Kordell (although I love him, he just isn't ... performing as well as last year). It would so very suck to see the guy lose his ability to walk, lose his career... lose his second chance at everything. Sigh.

---

Today -- I finally got Home Improvement Project #2 - the built in cabinet - just about 100% completed.

Yes. I stained the bad boy. Holy cow it was a bitch and a half. Four and a half hours, 1.25 cans of stain. My hands are a mess.

After deliberating with my sister via long distance about whether or not I'd need them, I bought gloves and started the project at about noon.

The gloves were pimpy-cheap and my fingers popped through the fingertips, so I ended up tossing them. And yes, Linda, there was polyeurethane in the stain, so getting the stain off my hands was a party. The interior of the shelves was the hardest part. I made a big big mess.

It looks great, but I can't take a picture of it because I loaned Cateringman my camera so he could take some pictures. Plus, I'll get more email that says "your tv is still too small and pimpy in there..." Yes. I know. But it is the only TV I gots!

---

I applied for another job that I really really want, this time it is at a community college here in the Commonwealth. The position is exactly what I did at the college where I used to work, but it pays 12k more to start than I was earning four years ago. Which ain't too shabby.

I am perfect for the job, yet again. I want the job... yet again. I'm not getting my hopes up.

I sent my resume, portfolio and transcript to them via email. I asked all my former bosses/friends/cheerleaders for letters of recommendation. We'll see what happens.

---

Tomorrow, Geoff doesn't know it yet but we're taking a little trip up to see Wayne and Marcia in Maine. Geoff's school does a "grandparents' day" every November. Last year I ended up going and picking him up because he was SO distraught that his grandparents weren't there and everyone else's were. We're not running the chance of him going through THAT trauma again for a day of grandparent worship. If it were a Friday or a Monday or something, I'm sure my parents would come up for the weekend. But a Tuesday is a tough request from people who live 5 hours away. Doug's parents are 12 hours away in the far west of PA, so we never even ask them. So tomorrow will be a special day for Geoff and mommy, and his friend Pete... and I'll enjoy not having to sit here looking at the ceiling, which is Home Improvement Project #1, and it still isn't complete. It's close. But not complete.

---

I got some cool email about the roller conveyor. My friend Mr. Garfield shared his stories with me. And Tanager told me there's a conveyor roller slide at a park near Coolidge Corner in Boston. She also indirectly told me I had a fat ass... which made me laugh.

I'd share their emails with you. But I accidentally deleted them because I was on the phone with my sister and was distracted. I thought I was deleting the two pieces of spam I got today... but it was their emails that went down the tubes.

Enough. Dinner's in the oven. I'm gonna relax a bit, kick it in front of my beautifully stained home entertainment cabinet, natch!

I'm not sure I understand concert promotions and marketing anymore. The local radio station I listen to most but not all of the time, WXRV, 92.5 the River, made no mention of the fact that Counting Crows will be performing THIS Friday night at the Paul Tsongas Arena (ghetto website, check out the events schedule... formatting -- horrid. Worst Site Ever).

No mention of said event, even though they play them ALL the blasted time. I happened to be scanning the dial while on the way back from Waltham where Geoff saw his eye doctor, and heard a DJ on another station casually mention the event after playing a Counting Crows song.

Now, why is this the first I've heard of it?

Clear Channel Entertainment is sponsoring the Counting Crows tour, which might have something to do with it. They have this stranglehold on radio, music distribution and concert promotions in the country as of late. And I don't listen to any of the four Clear Channel Radio Stations in the Boston area, so if it was advertised over there, I would of course not hear it at all.

The station I heard the mention on was WBOS, which is 2 clicks up the dial from WXRV, and I rarely ever stop there because they play even MORE Don Henley and Bonnie Raitt than WXRV (hard to imagine).

I went to the Tsongas Arena website, tickets are still available, but they are going for thirty bucks a pop.

Screw that.

I thought it would make a nice birthday present for me to go with Jessie and Doug to see them, but feh. Not for 30 bucks a seat. And when it comes down to it, not for a Clear Channel event. Sorry Adam Duritz, you've sold out to the man.

The aboved linked Salon.com articles have got to be some of the more interesting coverage on Clear Channel I've seen. "Why Does Radio Suck?" is the question they ask -- and there's your answer. Venues are owned by Clear Channel, radio stations are owned OR have MAJOR payola accounts with Clear Channel.

I know a lot of the bands I like are part of this scheme... and it breaks my heart. It also makes me sick, because there are talentless slobs who get in on a good contract and then get marketed, shoved, and triple branded into my face everywhere I go.

---

Today's MF class was fabulous. A few technical glitches, but all told it went well. My buddy from the media department came and hooked up a VCR to one of the PCs and we taped the class. Only one penis in attendance! And we got it on video! Aren't we just the lucky ones!

Cu-SeeMe is introducing private rooms, with advanced features like CuCreeps, where you can ban someone from the room for ever and ever. How sweet it is. I love knowing that this will soon be available, because then I will not have to technically facilitate the classes, and if I get a full time job sometime soon I won't have to worry about MF not being able to run the class, with penii flying through the virtual room. I don't know if our pushing them and whining and complaining all the time has anything to do with their moving in this direction, but it is nice to see it happening. The tech guy I spoke with in May of last year said they were thinking about doing this, but that it wouldn't be free... well. Looks like it is free. And the class is working so well that this is an all new and very exciting way to do education. I'm sure they'll charge us for it eventually, but seriously -- perhaps 20 bucks a kid per class per semester or something. I can see the kids paying that. They pay a lot more for textbooks. This would be cheap in comparison.

---

Today I got to stop in and see the guys, only Brian and Ben were there. Dan was actually out working someplace. Brian ragged on me for not going up after class last week. I told him to stuff it. Glad to have such great friends.

And he also told me about the latest editions of Rolling Stone Magazine -- with the Simpsons Covers. Hot Damn. Go to the website and check them out. I'm not sure how long they'll be up there, so I'm going to keep each picture here locally. Too funny. Personally, I think they should have done a version of the middle of Joshua Tree, the way I did last year with my family's faces -- but they did make fun of U2 pretty good (see the Homer and U2 at Moe's picture for proof. Ass cracks are really funny). The Fleetwood Mac "Rumors" cover is pretty darn classy. Nice work.

---

I've gotten some interesting feedback on the built in entertainment center from friends. Usually in the form of phone calls, but a couple good emails.

"Dude, your TV is too small and pimpy, get a bigger one!"

That's the general consensus. Now, Doug is thinking about our need for a TV which will fill the opening better. That could end up being our Christmas present to ourselves.

See what happens when you do home improvement? What you had was passable. Now you have something nicer, and you gotta improve the stuff that goes with it. Pretty soon, we'll need a new house. Oh well. Anyway. Go check out the Rolling Stone Simpsons stuff. It's a riot.

Down the Cape

Yesterday we left the house to drive down the Cape to go see my grandmother, AKA "Gammy," because we never go see her. Knowing we had a day off I was thinking we'd go geocache in the Worcester area, there are a few new good ones out and about that way.

My husband has a way of reminding me that there are other humans in my life.

I called her on Sunday morning, and she was thrilled to hear we'd be coming down. Back in May she broke her arm and has been having all kinds of trouble with it. She was pretty much on the mend, and then on Saturday her patio door got blown into her face and she shot her arm out to stop it. Needless to say -- she's reinjured herself, and it pisses her off. So our coming down there I'm sure brightened her day.

I feel like a shit most of the time because I rarely think of contacting family, and I probably shouldn't because it isn't like my phone rings off the hook (unless it's my girl LeeLee callin' me from the F.L.A. yo), if you catch my drift. For me, I know my family down the southlands is busy. They have lives. I don't get phone calls asking how I'm doing because my mom is that conduit for communication with them. So I don't feel abandoned or neglected, and I doubt they give it much of a second thought themselves.

Getting down near the Cape is something I hate attempting nearly 7 months out of the year. Right about now, before the winter kicks in and makes weather so miserable is the perfect time to go.

It takes about 2 hours, with no traffic. Now, for us, we have two traffic obstacles -- Boston and the Cape bridges. It can be an hour in each location (getting through the city, getting to the bridge to cross it) and then the time spent getting to the obstacles. It has taken about 4 hours for us on some days. It sucks.

So we never go down there.

"Where do you want to go to lunch, Gammy?" I asked.

"McDonalds." She replied.

"No seriously, we want to take you somewhere nicer than McDonald's."

I wasn't sure if she was suggesting McDonalds for the kids or for it being an inexpensive place to eat. She doesn't like people spending money on her -- when I call her on the phone she rushes me off because it is expensive (meanwhile, we have this eastern Massachusetts calling plan deal where we can talk for a billion and a half minutes and it's way cheap, and we never go over the minutes allotted. but... she still thinks we're paying through the nose to call her). So we took her to the Hearth and Kettle, Cape Cod cooking at its slowest. The waitress was really nice and even goosed Geoff when he was wiggling around in his chair, which made us all laugh (some people would have been immediately offended, not us. Goosing a wiggly kid is funny stuff).

But the food took forever to get there, and it wasn't as good as I recalled it being. But, nonetheless, it was a lot of fun to hang with Gammy. We took her down to the ocean beach at Falmouth, and she told me she used to take my cousins Billy and John there when they were little, with some KFC for lunch. They'd play in the water and the sand and she'd sit in the car and read.

Geoff was semi-obsessed with Gammy's broken arm, and I must have told him a thousand times to be kind and gentle to it. So, when I asked him to pose with her, he decided to show that he was kind and gentle to the broken arm. "What happened to your arm?" was the first thing out of his mouth when he saw her. She explained... and he said "Oh, are you okay?" He's sweet that way sometimes. Then he told her he was going to "grow up like a doctor. Like a scientist. and EVIL Scientist!" Gammy was thoroughly entertained. And I took two pictures of Gam and Jessie, and in each one Gammy decided to look AT Jess instead of at the camera. I got after her for turning her head (it isn't the first time she's done it in my experience with her. Note, she did it with Geoff too. Right before the flash goes off, she turns). She told me that she didn't want a picture of her looking at a camera, she wants to look AT the kids. So I let her have her way and didn't take a third.

We drove around past "the Knob" which I guess is an infamous party spot in Falmouth, but is really beautiful (cateringman grew up there and when I told him we were by his old stomping grounds he laughed, "Oh, I could tell you stories about stuff I did in my wild youth at the Knob, but I'm a good Christian man now and it'd be a sin just recounting those events..."). There's a geocache there, and if it hadn't been raining I would have wanted to go do it after we left Gammy, but weather did not permit, so another visit is in order.

And we drove over to Nobska light and past the cemetery where my Grandfather is buried. "Bampi" is what we would have called him to his face, and we called him that all the time growing up. Still do. Never knew him. Wish I had.

Gammy told us more stories about going to Nobska when my Bampi worked there. He'd call her and tell her to bring him his lunch, and when she did, the guys at the lighthouse would sound the horn as she turned the corner (on his request, of course) and "scare the devil" out of her. She laughed and laughed. She also showed us where she would walk with my mom and her sister when going to the beach when they were little. It was a nice little drive around, and it sucks that it was all rainy, because it would have been so nice to get out and walk around things...

but, another visit.

When we got home, we had a nice surprise waiting. I'd left a key for Wayne and he finished the built-in cabinet for the TV. Now. I have to stain it and figure out how to run power up underneath from the basement. But -- here it is. With plenty of room for a big assed TV to nest in there. Wahoo!

---

It was Veterans' Day yesterday and I almost totally forgot because most years (except this one and the 2 when I was at the college working) I've been on the job, so I hardly think of it as a holiday.

There are very few veterans in my life anymore. There's my father in law, who served in the Air Force in Vietnam, and was in the reserves in Pittsburgh for several years after the war... in fact, he retired from the reserves a couple years after I met Doug.

Doug's grandfather fought in WWII and was at D-day. He had all kinds of amazing stories about his experiences, and I know I said thank you to him once or twice in the short time I knew him.

In the discussion group for my old company's stock, there was a WWII vet called "CT" who would often talk about his service days. He took a shine to me, and a couple other people, and we'd email bad jokes back and forth to each other.

Even though neither of us have posted on the stock board in over a year, he still sends me a daily joke, and journal like emails which he sends to his family. It's kind of weird to be on that distribution list, with his family.

I feel I've gotten to know him pretty well, even though I have no idea where he lives. I know he took a year long "assignment" at a state forest on the coast of California last year to be the camp caretaker. It was something he always wanted to do. So it was neat to get these updates from him about life at the camp, the people he met. He is a friendly and active old dude, and I'm sure he made other people's lives a living hell at the camp. He seems the type. So I emailed him last night, the message was:

No joke today, just a simple thanks. Thank you CT for your service to this country, and thank you for sharing your stories with me over the past 2 years.

The email back was:

You made my day. My own kids haven't yet thanked me, in their lives. Thanks for putting a smile on this old face.

I feel like calling my father in law, to say thank you, but I don't know. He doesn't ever talk about Vietnam, his experience, his life... one would never know he was a serviceman because unlike so many others he simply doesn't bring it up. Once in a great while he'll tell us a story, usually something really funny. He doesn't talk about being in combat or any of the negative experiences he may have had. I know Vietnam veterans often go off the deep end, and have a reputation as people who can't handle what happened to them in their lives.

But my father in law -- if anything truly horrific happened to him, or if he witnessed something horrid, you'd never know it. He doesn't let it show. He never discusses it. And that's probably a good and bad thing.

A surprising snowy day

Normally it does not snow here before my birthday in November. Today, an exception to the 35 year rule. The news reports last night said that west of Worcester they'd see accumulating snow to about an inch, here -- some flakes but nothing. Worcester must have a foot of snow this morning because we have an inch. Geoff was thrilled beyond belief with the sight. Jack puppy wasn't nearly as interested. I had hoped puppy's first snow would be a delight for him and for me to witness. Oh well. Geoff thinks it's going to snow all day while he's at school and he'll be trapped there, as the Simpsons leads him to believe. It should all turn to rain and be gone by the time school lets out. Here are a couple quick pictures, and of course the banner is inspired by the fact the foliage is still falling, even though the snow is here too. But, as I said... it is fleeting. 'Twill be all gone and but a memory this afternoon.
The mums on the porch are weighed down by the snow. I feel the urge to go around the yard and clean all the plants off to keep them from getting hurt.	Fall and winter collide right in my own backyard.

---

In other news, yesterday Wayne came down from his place and we spent the afternoon designing and planning the home entertainment built in shelving unit that I've been talking about here for just ever. He's really smart with design and building... my husband was insulted that I called Wayne for this, but he should not be. See, here's the deal -- Wayne's good with this stuff and in exchange for what I'm good at (web design) we made an agreement (Doug was sitting there, and I guess he just doesn't recall all of this...) that we'd trade. I'd build him a family site, he'd build me some rocking furniture. Done deal.

I didn't tell Doug that the plan was to get this done in the near future (the conversation took place this summer) so he was mad. I didn't consult him, and I guess I undermined his home improvement skills by calling in a professional hobbyist.

But it's not to undermine his skills. This is a lot more than putting up some shelves that you buy at home depot. This is building a nice piece of furniture. that is scalable so we can get a bigger TV and not have to rip anything out. This is cabinetry, not shelving. This is going to look the bomb when Wayne is done. I have priced units that would fit into the space we have, and they are (at the unfinished furniture. store) well into the thousands of dollars, unfinished. So far, for the bottom part of the cabinet, materials were about 125 bucks. The top part will be very easy -- probably a total of 50 bucks. Then we paint or stain to our liking and viola, the nicest thing we own. Done.

I do feel bad that Doug was insulted and mad at my going forward with this, but also frustrated because I am trying to be proactive and get stuff done while possible. I need to get a full time job, at least by January, and then will have no time to do any of the stuff I set out to do. I'm feeling the pressure, as if I know my own date of death, or as Homer felt -- having 24 hours to live -- and I have this list of stuff to do and a looming "dead" line. Doug has done a lot of the home improvement stuff we've needed done this year, and I'm really proud of him for doing those things. But I totally feel that the ceiling and this cabinetry are so important for me to get done that I've just got to do it.

I know he reads this, and I know I should be telling him these things -- but last night he sent me loud and clear signals that he didn't want to talk to me about it, and I'm hurt and he's hurt and I guess that's where it stands.

I love my husband -- I appreciate my friends who are helpful... I have ideas and plans that I want to accomplish. I shouldn't have to feel defeated in my efforts to make this a better place to live. We've got issues with the dogs sneaking around the house doing their outdoor business (when they were JUST outdoors), we've got issues with Geoff stemming from bedwetting or not getting awake enough to actually pee into the toilet, so I've got THAT to contend with. There is so much that I feel is blocking me from keeping this place livable that I feel like I am going to freak out screaming and run into the woods pulling my hair out, never to return.

So much to do... and so little time.

I got email last night from another friend of Clayton's who just recently heard about his passing. He's read the content in the journal, and I guess it's good that it is there for him, and others who had no idea. The alumni magazine announcement that I wrote still sits in my inbox, my heart unwilling to send it to the publications department to have it run... so the Alumni director put a simple two sentence announcement into the most recent quarterly publication. But I doubt anyone who graduated around our time looks at the "In Memoriam" section... usually it's filled with people who graduated the same year Mr. Burns graduated from Yale. Only one other time have I seen anyone from the 80s listed there. Perhaps I should still send it in. With a great picture from that time... perhaps they'll still run it if they have space. I don't know.

Anyway... all my chatting here about needing to get work done has me... needing to get work done. I've got two webpages to build and another possible project lined up. I've got drywall joint compound in a 61 lb container calling my name from the garage. Sigh. Gotta do what a gal's gotta do. More later.

New Sink, job interview

The plumber is here. He's doing his plumbery thing. Geoff is all over him. Fascinated. It is all I can do to keep him from talking the guy's ear off about tools, where our sink is going, and Spiderman.

Anyway.

I am glad we'll soon have a new sink. And I'm glad I had a professional come in to do it. When he removed the cold water pipe, it busted in half. The drain pipe crumbled in his hands.

The guys I work with at cateringman's were all "Go to home depot, buy a factory second sink for 40 bucks, install it yourself. How hard can that be?"

Um, yeah. Plumbing and the residents of this house do not mix, friends.

There are two home improvement items we don't muck around with. Plumbing and electrical stuff. No way. Electrical stuff scares the bejezus out of me. Plumbing is easy enough to screw up and have an instant catastrophe on your hands to deal with.

I must say here though that I am very proud that my husband made do and did the work he did for as long as he did to prevent us from calling a plumber in immediately. He tried very hard. Did a great job.

Well. Today is not just groovy new sink day, it is interview day! As Spongebob Squarepants says: "I'm READY!!!!"

I'll be using the groovy new sink to brush my teeth and apply makeup over, and then I'll be off to sit in front of oh... 9 people or so, and make my case for why I'd be an asset to this institution of higher education.

I feel like puking already.

I don't know why I'm nervous. I normally never GET nervous before an interview. I interview very well for the most part. I remember to amazing detail the interviews I had for my last company and for the last college I worked at... even what everyone was wearing.

Let's see if I blank on this one or puke on the conference table. I'm sure it's been done before in history.

There really isn't much of interest to report in my life right now. I did get thank you notes from the girls (even my own daughter) that I chaperoned. Which made me smile. K. wrote me that it was the best field trip she's ever been on because she learned so much and I was so smart. Hey. Truer words never spoken, eh? cough gag.

Oh, and speaking of Spongebob... what the hell is the deal with people running around saying he's gay.

All of the Boston Talk Stations yesterday were on this story, and it was way over the top.

The news reports I heard initially said the show is popular with gay men. Which is fine. So are the Powerpuff Girls.

And surprise surprise people. Both are popular with people with senses of HUMOR. Gay or straight. Duh!

The discussion warped to "Spongebob is Gay."

How does one wander to that conclusion automatically. Really. Does it MATTER if gay people LIKE the show a lot and think it's funny? And does that automatically make the character and storylines "gay?"

Millions of people gay and straight are SBSP fans. Myself and my husband and my kids totally included.

If you need to categorize him, I actually think Spongebob is more like an evangelical than a "gay" person. Look at his personality:

• He is kind
• He is lighthearted
• He is very very genuinely happy in a life-loving way
• He is enthusiastic about everything in life... his work, his friends, jellyfishing, karate...
• He is annoying to those who don't understand him (ie Squidward)

I think that someone somewhere along the lines read too much into an episode that aired recently. SB's "sexual" role sort of comes into play when he and his buddy Patrick find a lost sea scallop who needed a home.

They "adopt" the scallop. SB assumes the "mother" role, cleaning, caring for the baby, wearing himself out to maintain the household. Patrick shuffles off each morning to "work" in a tie and a hat, with briefcase in hand, and returns home dog-shit tired and ready for a beer.

By the way -- Patrick's "job" was sitting in over his own apartment watching TV. He came home exhausted on a nightly basis, because it's hard watching TV all day. Sometimes the remote control falls on the floor and you have to find it. And all the clicking around the dials... wears a guy out, ya know.

So they weren't necessarily being "gay" in the sexual sense. I believe the writers were more or less just illustrating how parenting works, and they were dangerously close to ending up like Paula Cole's "Where Have all the Cowboys Gone" song.

I suppose the creators would have been better suited to pair up SB with Sandy Squirrel, but SB and Patrick are such good friends, and their relationship is funnier than that of Sandy and SB.

I didn't read "sex" into the relationship for that episode personally. Did you?

When "The Lion King" came out, no pun intended, everyone was insistant that Scar (voiced deliciously by Jeremy Irons) was homosexual. He was "single" and had a British accent and was evil, but charming all at the same time.

I mean, when I was watching the movie, I didn't think immediately about the stupid lion's sexuality. Same with Timon and Pumbaa. Everyone says THEY are gay. First of all -- they aren't even the same species. I can see how Chip and Dale, the chipmunks of Looney Tunes fame could possibly be "gayish," again with the whole English accent and proper grammar thing. All gays are SO proper (snarf) aren't they?

"Oh, do let's invade the duck's cellar and get all the acorns!"
"Indeed, dear sir! Invade is such a rogue term! Let us stealthily procure said acorns under darkness of night. After tea."
"Very well then, after you."
"No, I insist -- after you..."

---

I read a great book that looks into the creation process of comics and the possibility of underlying homosexuality. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, by Michael Chabon. It was a fabulous story -- about two cousins, one is gay but quite closeted. Together they build a comic empire, and the gay cousin ends up getting dragged into testify in court against his will that all the comics are gay propaganda stories. Pairing men and young boys into exciting relationships. The wearing of tights. The riding one seater motorcycles together...

It's a horrible situation for him. He created wonderful stories that had nothing to DO with HIS sexuality... but others interpreted his personal life as being broadcasted through the characters to children across the country. His empire crumbles. It is... sad.

I highly recommend the novel if you're looking for something to read by the fireside this fall.

Anyway -- Spongebob isn't gay. But if he was... I'd be alright with that. He's a nice guy. I think Squidward is gay. But that's a whole nother analysis for another day. Guffaw.

I'm going to go hang out in the living room now. I'm sure I'll post later or tomorrow about my interview. Just remember. Good vibes/mojo/prayers my way for 3:15 p.m. And hope I don't barf on things.

And, I'm going to use my new sink. More later...

ain't she purdy?

New Sink, job interview

The plumber is here. He's doing his plumbery thing. Geoff is all over him. Fascinated. It is all I can do to keep him from talking the guy's ear off about tools, where our sink is going, and Spiderman.

Anyway.

I am glad we'll soon have a new sink. And I'm glad I had a professional come in to do it. When he removed the cold water pipe, it busted in half. The drain pipe crumbled in his hands.

The guys I work with at cateringman's were all "Go to home depot, buy a factory second sink for 40 bucks, install it yourself. How hard can that be?"

Um, yeah. Plumbing and the residents of this house do not mix, friends.

There are two home improvement items we don't muck around with. Plumbing and electrical stuff. No way. Electrical stuff scares the bejezus out of me. Plumbing is easy enough to screw up and have an instant catastrophe on your hands to deal with.

I must say here though that I am very proud that my husband made do and did the work he did for as long as he did to prevent us from calling a plumber in immediately. He tried very hard. Did a great job.

Well. Today is not just groovy new sink day, it is interview day! As Spongebob Squarepants says: "I'm READY!!!!"

I'll be using the groovy new sink to brush my teeth and apply makeup over, and then I'll be off to sit in front of oh... 9 people or so, and make my case for why I'd be an asset to this institution of higher education.

I feel like puking already.

I don't know why I'm nervous. I normally never GET nervous before an interview. I interview very well for the most part. I remember to amazing detail the interviews I had for my last company and for the last college I worked at... even what everyone was wearing.

Let's see if I blank on this one or puke on the conference table. I'm sure it's been done before in history.

There really isn't much of interest to report in my life right now. I did get thank you notes from the girls (even my own daughter) that I chaperoned. Which made me smile. K. wrote me that it was the best field trip she's ever been on because she learned so much and I was so smart. Hey. Truer words never spoken, eh? cough gag.

Oh, and speaking of Spongebob... what the hell is the deal with people running around saying he's gay.

All of the Boston Talk Stations yesterday were on this story, and it was way over the top.

The news reports I heard initially said the show is popular with gay men. Which is fine. So are the Powerpuff Girls.

And surprise surprise people. Both are popular with people with senses of HUMOR. Gay or straight. Duh!

The discussion warped to "Spongebob is Gay."

How does one wander to that conclusion automatically. Really. Does it MATTER if gay people LIKE the show a lot and think it's funny? And does that automatically make the character and storylines "gay?"

Millions of people gay and straight are SBSP fans. Myself and my husband and my kids totally included.

If you need to categorize him, I actually think Spongebob is more like an evangelical than a "gay" person. Look at his personality:

• He is kind
• He is lighthearted
• He is very very genuinely happy in a life-loving way
• He is enthusiastic about everything in life... his work, his friends, jellyfishing, karate...
• He is annoying to those who don't understand him (ie Squidward)

I think that someone somewhere along the lines read too much into an episode that aired recently. SB's "sexual" role sort of comes into play when he and his buddy Patrick find a lost sea scallop who needed a home.

They "adopt" the scallop. SB assumes the "mother" role, cleaning, caring for the baby, wearing himself out to maintain the household. Patrick shuffles off each morning to "work" in a tie and a hat, with briefcase in hand, and returns home dog-shit tired and ready for a beer.

By the way -- Patrick's "job" was sitting in over his own apartment watching TV. He came home exhausted on a nightly basis, because it's hard watching TV all day. Sometimes the remote control falls on the floor and you have to find it. And all the clicking around the dials... wears a guy out, ya know.

So they weren't necessarily being "gay" in the sexual sense. I believe the writers were more or less just illustrating how parenting works, and they were dangerously close to ending up like Paula Cole's "Where Have all the Cowboys Gone" song.

I suppose the creators would have been better suited to pair up SB with Sandy Squirrel, but SB and Patrick are such good friends, and their relationship is funnier than that of Sandy and SB.

I didn't read "sex" into the relationship for that episode personally. Did you?

When "The Lion King" came out, no pun intended, everyone was insistant that Scar (voiced deliciously by Jeremy Irons) was homosexual. He was "single" and had a British accent and was evil, but charming all at the same time.

I mean, when I was watching the movie, I didn't think immediately about the stupid lion's sexuality. Same with Timon and Pumbaa. Everyone says THEY are gay. First of all -- they aren't even the same species. I can see how Chip and Dale, the chipmunks of Looney Tunes fame could possibly be "gayish," again with the whole English accent and proper grammar thing. All gays are SO proper (snarf) aren't they?

"Oh, do let's invade the duck's cellar and get all the acorns!"
"Indeed, dear sir! Invade is such a rogue term! Let us stealthily procure said acorns under darkness of night. After tea."
"Very well then, after you."
"No, I insist -- after you..."

---

I read a great book that looks into the creation process of comics and the possibility of underlying homosexuality. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, by Michael Chabon. It was a fabulous story -- about two cousins, one is gay but quite closeted. Together they build a comic empire, and the gay cousin ends up getting dragged into testify in court against his will that all the comics are gay propaganda stories. Pairing men and young boys into exciting relationships. The wearing of tights. The riding one seater motorcycles together...

It's a horrible situation for him. He created wonderful stories that had nothing to DO with HIS sexuality... but others interpreted his personal life as being broadcasted through the characters to children across the country. His empire crumbles. It is... sad.

I highly recommend the novel if you're looking for something to read by the fireside this fall.

Anyway -- Spongebob isn't gay. But if he was... I'd be alright with that. He's a nice guy. I think Squidward is gay. But that's a whole nother analysis for another day. Guffaw.

I'm going to go hang out in the living room now. I'm sure I'll post later or tomorrow about my interview. Just remember. Good vibes/mojo/prayers my way for 3:15 p.m. And hope I don't barf on things.

And, I'm going to use my new sink. More later...

ain't she purdy?

Detroit Rock City

This morning I'm flicking around the TV stations looking for something to watch. I'd slept later than intended, missed the beginning of church. Geoff and I were the only ones up. Sunday morning TV is horrid. By the time Doug got up I was ready to throw the remote in the blender, and I stumbled across one of my all time favorite "teen" movies.

"Detroit Rock City." Baby!!!

Doug rented it one night a year or so ago. I'd heard bad reviews about it, and was sort of skeptical. But we watched it and I was hooked. Who could go wrong with this formulaic teen comedy, with some added on gross-out humor (Ed Furlong drunk and puking in front of a bar filled with sex starved women waiting patiently for him to finish and then do a striptease. Really unnecessary)?

The story is set in a Detroit suburb in 1978 and tells the tale of Jeremiah (who would rather be called "Jam" cause it's cooler) and his burnout friends, Hawk, Trip and Lex.

Sam Huntington portrays the very misunderstood by his mother Jam with doe-eyed sweetness and makes me think of my husband Doug in late 1988, with his hair long and slightly curly. Ed Furlong, best known for his role in the Terminator movies, is Hawk, ringleader and smart guy. Mom is perfectly cast, she is Lyn Shaye who you'll remember as Magda in "There's Something About Mary."

The boys are in a KISS garage rock tribute band. They want to go see KISS in concert, but Jam's chain-smoking hypocrite mom burns his tickets in a fit of Catholic anti-rock/anti-KISS fueled rage. They're screwed, or are they?

How will these loyal members of the KISS army get to see the band of their longing? It looks hopeless. Jam is sent to a Catholic all boy's school and his band mates devise a cunning plan. They spring him and head to Detroit because Trip thinks he won tickets on the radio in a phone in contest. Along the way, they get into horrible and funny situations and have to get themselves out of them.

Things get completely out of control, the way they do in wacky teen movies, and these four friends have a night they will never forget, filled with romance and raw sex, puking, convenience store robberies and watchdog taming.

It's a ridiculous premise, but like my adoration of Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, movies like this always intrigue me. How WILL these seemingly mentally impared people get out of their mess. Why is Jam such a nice guy and friends with these three pothead jerkoffs?

Why does this kid remind me so much of Doug when I met him???

It's freaky.

Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed burning an hour and watching this movie. If you've never seen it, I'm not surprised. A ton of movies came out in 1999 that overshadowed this one, including 10 Things I Hate About You and American Pie. It is the single most underrated film of that year, even though it had to compete with a guy having sex with a homemade baked good. So even though it is exciting and intelligent, and a glimpse into teenage history as opposed to current teenage life... that's why no one knows about it. No one boofed a pie. So rent it if you haven't seen it. Let me know what you think.

---

We went geocaching yesterday. Two in one place, the Ward Reservation in Andover.

The first cache was easy as pie (not American Pie though...). The second one was much harder. We didn't pack any water... I thought the two locations were not in the same place and that we'd pass a store on the way to the second one. Doug misunderstood me in saying that I wanted to stop and buy water. So Jessica was very whiney and complainy. As usual.

The second cache was hidden near Boston Hill clear at the far end of the reservation, almost out of it. It was a bear at times to get the kids to walk up. Even Geoff was wilting. All told it was over four miles of hiking. Thing is, I could have kept going. For the first time in a number of years, I feel great and strong. The view from the top of the hill and the wild blueberries growing low to the ground were intoxicating. The smell of the ferns deep in the damp forest made me swoon with joy. And the fact that I ignored the moans and complaints of my kids and kept myself happy for a change -- that's priceless.

When we were coming to the opening in the field at the top of the hill wild turkey flew across the path. Doug saw both adults, I only saw one. And I saw two chicks to his three total. They were not afraid of us but kept a safe distance.

I'm so proud of both our dogs because they didn't chase them and try to catch them. They were interested and aware, Kinger did his usual "curiousity whine" but he didn't strain on leash or try and give the turkeys the bums rush. Jack was an amazing hiker... he is hardcore. We got home and he passed out on the floor and slept clear through the evening. Both dogs SO need a bath today. We took a short cut trail that went down in a holler and was all mud at the bottom. There were trees and boards laid down across the mud, but it was a mess. Both dogs decided to take leisurely rests on their bellies in the mud... so they are filthy. Kinger cleaned up pretty good, but Jack needs a shampoo. That's on my list of things to do today.

One part of the reservation that we went to is called Holt Hill (another bear to climb when you think you're done going up, after Boston Hill... voof!) and it is the highest point in Essex County, MA at a whopping 441 feet. At the top there are solstice stones in the form of a compass. You can see straight and clear through to Boston, as the vantage to the south and east is unobstructed. It is beautiful. Getting there is easy when you take the direct path up the hill, so we'll be sure to go back again to just see the view from there, and torture the kids with more hiking!

Today we're kind of keeping a low profile. I redid the top layers of the site here. I guess this is the fourth iteration of the look and feel. What do you think? How's it look? Lemme know.

Anyway. Jessie is at a friend's house. Doug and Geoff are playing Sonic, and I need to shower and put together a shopping list. We need a full blown trip to the grocery store today. I'm hoping to get Doug to do it. Perhaps if I fake a nap he'll feel that it needs to get done so he'll do it.

I got interesting email from a friend the other day letting me know that another friend who currently resides in San Francisco will be visiting the area next week. He's in a wheelchair after a car accident while en route to a medieval festival where he was performing/participating a few years back. I'd lost track of him after corresponding with him for a little while in 2000, so I'm greatly looking forward to seeing him again. He was instrumental in my friendship and bonding with Doug and Clayton, and a lot of other people, so I am happy to get to see him and reconnect with that part of life. He was my first and only Dungeon Master when I played D&D in college (nerd alert! I warned you I was a nerd!) and I always had great fun with him. We'll host the visit because it will be relatively easy to get him into the house here as opposed to our other friend's home which is not handicapped accessible.

And we have to finish hanging drywall this week. Oh the joys.

Drywallfest 2002

Haven't had the opportunity to write in the past few days. Sunday was Drywallfest 2002, a holiday that you can mark on your calendars and celebrate each year from henceforth.

I slept in (much to the consternation of my husband, and suffered the resulting taunts of his opinion on the fact...) and we started around noon. Doug had decided that he and Jessica would hold up the drywall to the ceiling, and I would run around and screw in the screws. Sounds easy, eh? No fucking way. The plan was not quite perfect, and I suggested he cut the panels in half, which he did after long and careful consideration. Jessica, while completely willing, was totally unable to hold up her end of the deal. I have to give her mad props and heavy thanks for her willingness, but I concede that she just doesn't have the upper arm strength to hold up a ceiling. Not that I totally expected she would... but she tried

Once he measured and cut, we got the first part of the livingroom done in about 2 hours, with very little swearing on his part. I was very proud of him.

We trucked along until close to 5:30pm when I decided to run to the beer store before they closed (Sundays in Massachusetts mean you go get beer before 6pm).

We stuck one more panel up and called it a day. We're two thirds done with the livingroom/diningroom area, and just have the kitchen to focus on now.

Huzzah! We have a ceiling!!!!!

Monday I worked down at the college with the media group... it was a long full day. I spent a little time with Ben, sorted out some info on FTP account information for both the faculty members I'm working for this summer, and spent about a half hour with my Rupa.

A productive day all told, but I still had a lot of work to do. I took a trip to Wal*Mart on my way home to get new shower curtains and bathmats for both bathrooms in anticipation of my in-law's arrival.

We were anticipating them around 8pm. They got here at 6... I had just mopped, did the floors, the dishes, and put up the shower curtains and other little doo dads. I was in the process of starting to sort through the crap on top of the dining table so we all had a place to sit and feast while they were here... and boom. There they are. Aw crap!!!

So I hurriedly cleared off the dining table, throwing everything in boxes, trash or keeps, it's all in my bedroom waiting for me to sort through it now. And Doug was marinating lamb and starting the grill. They hadn't stopped to eat dinner, the way we thought they were going to, so they were hungry... good thing we had a huge lamb leg and lots of kebab sticks! Doug grilled up a wicked excellent dinner, with zucchini and summer squash from our garden (the cherry tomatoes aren't ready yet, bummer!) and we sat down to a huge candlelight dinner with the kids and grandparents. It was really nice!

Last night I took Kinger out and went to the basement to move laundry around. Kinger got fixated on something up by the road so I went up to see what was there.

There was a little owl sitting IN the road, right in the middle of the lane. It was late, around 11pm almost, so not a soul was driving past... I ran in the house to get Doug and put Kinger back inside. I didn't want him going after the owl if it was sick or injured. Kinger's not that way though. He's usually curious and scared, not a natural hunter or anything. Doug and his parents and Jessica came out to check it out, and I grabbed a flashlight. It sat there staring at us, and when Doug started to approach it, it took off into the trees across the street and I immediately kicked myself for not having the camera. Finally, something wicked cool and interesting happening right in front of my house and all I have are pictures of friggin' drywall to show you. And this picture of Jess and Megan with their puppies. Megan's mom is a golden retriever breeder and shower. So Megan just got a new puppy and will be showing her when she's older and trained. Her name is Star and she's 10 weeks old. Jack sure liked her... they had a great time together, and now both girls can play and walk their puppies together!

Alright. I've got to get back to being social. Entries will be few and far between these next few days as we go out and play and see the region with our visitors. But I'll do my best to say hello once in a while, because Linda is bored at work and needs something to read.