Skipping past Writober and Nanoblomo . . ? Shit, I dunno. I'm as bored as you are.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Okay, Mr. Crunchy emailed me a couple weeks back to tell me he’d tagged me for the latest Eight Things meme. He couldn’t leave a comment because it had been more than 10 days since my previous post, and my comments had closed. There are some rules to put here, but I’ll just say blah-blah-blah . . . on with the show:
1. When playing games, or participating in some light “sports,” I like to play be the rules. Sometimes to a fault. SOMETIMES to the extent that it’s no longer fun to play games with me (I’d imagine). Funny example: On the last night of our Beach Meetup, a group of us were playing a couple trivia-related games. Michelle wouldn’t play because she knows me too well. We were drinking, of course. CW was there, but not playing. He knew all the answers to the questions being asked (because he’s smart like that, at least as far as the 1990s are concerned) and was, apparently, “helping” people who didn’t know the answers. On both teams. Which all resulted in me turning into a Rules Nazi. We finished the game, but it was a very muted, quietly raging affair. I’m convinced all people involved actively dislike me now.
2. For sports, I pretty much stopped playing anything (organized) once I hit high school. Prior to that, I played three years of baseball (I sucked and my dad was the coach) and two years of football (not counting that first year I quit). I was patently below average at both. The only sport that I probably COULD have been okay at was soccer. On the day they were having tryouts one year, it conflicted with some stupid popularity-based club meeting and I didn’t go. And that was that. (I just remembereId that I also joined the tennis team for a week in tenth grade . . . until my parents told me I had to quit because that was the [ONLY] year I was making Ds and Fs on my report card.)
3. I’m a thumper, not a shaker.
4. We (er, I . . . this supposed to be about me, right? Whatever, I’m multitasking.) Anyway, I went to Atlanta this weekend (with my family) and it was a really good trip, even if we didn’t see CW (probably BECAUSE though). In the interest of product/cultural evaluation, here are some semi-related one-line reviews: Ru-San’s (nighttime home of shouts of “SAKI BOMB!”) was great and never have I had so much fun eating sushi in a punk-rock establishment . . . or being surrounded by punk rockers in a sushi establishment; it’s funny (but tasty) to order Asian food on the outside patio of Cheesecake Factory in the very shadow of P.F. Chang’s, although I really wanted more peanut-butter cookie dough in my slice of chocolate cheesecake; and the new Interpol album is at least as good as Antics, while the new Editors disc does not quite rise to the bar set by The Back Room.
5. On that topic: As you know, I’m all about “alternative” music, and I like and respect Nirvana, owning all of their albums (either on vinyl or CD). But the only song of theirs I have on iTunes is “Moist Vagina.”
6. This isn’t about me, per se (I’m running out of things), but I think it’s obvious that, considering the country seems split between fighting (the REAL) Al Qaeda and “cutting and running,” wouldn’t it be GAME, SET, MATCH for the Democrats to put forth a plan wherein we’d rotate soldiers to Afghanistan (remember that place?) and work toward getting soldiers home for longer stays? Bush is really pounding the “victory over Al Qaeda” drum quite a bit and, y’know, maybe we should actually engage THEM. Where they are. So, rather than looking like defeatists, maybe the Democrats can frame their proposed “redeployment” as actually engaging the enemy, RATHER THAN having Al Qaeda hanging out with their Taliban friends and kidnapping and murdering innocent South Koreans?
7. Remember when I’d do quizzes and give away mix CDs to the person/people who did the “best?” That’s a lot more fun than this, and I’ve been thinking of doing another one. It’s just time-intensive and, lately, my job (and the ominous pressure to get things done and/or prove I’m not just slacking off [i.e., blogging]) hasn’t provided me much time for that. And when I get home, all I want to do (after getting Mia to bed and IF I don’t have band practice) is drink beer, maybe eat a popcicle, and watch Olbermann.
8. Is this the last one? I think it is. Hey, we’re going to DISNEY in two weeks. It’s a trip we’ve been planning for months now. The in-laws are going, too (driving and staying separately, though). We’re gonna be there three nights. I’m excited, but kinda afraid. Pray for me . . . er, us.
Here’s the part where I’m supposed to link eight other people. I’ve seen this meme on a couple other blogs I read, so I’m feeling that maybe there’s no-one left for me to link. Seriously, this Eight Things meme is akin to fucking Paris Hilton’s mouth or hitting the almost-even money on Ho-Han’s chance of ending up back in “rehab” . . . everyone’s done it. So, I’ll just tell my wife to do it on Vox when she takes a break from Guitar Hero: The 80s. She’s been playing three days and I think she’s about to start the “expert” level.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Unless I’m Killed by Pickled Particulates
So, some friends of ours are getting married and, during the pre-wedding planning party (yes, the bride is very organized), we found out that the reception location (her parents’ yard) was gonna need some cleaning/attention. Volunteering for cleanup duties was strongly encouraged. The first* cleanup event was Saturday. It was real work, but fun. And hot.
The highlight had to be the part where we found three full-size coolers buried beneath junk in the outdoor storage area. Coolers jam-packed with liquor and wine. As the bride’s father tells it, their older daughter was drinking all their booze so he put it all in coolers and hid them outside. Twenty years ago. And then forgot about them. That’s how I came to be in possession of some aged-in-glass-bottles quantities of Jack Daniels (1.75 liters!) and Crown Royal. I’ll be hoping this isn’t my last post ever over a tasty Crown and Ginger.
* There will inevitably be others . . . based on what’s left to be done.
Drinking • Weekends • (3) Comments closed • Permalink
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
I Never Do This, and I’ve Never Done THAT
I know I really don’t do politics very often (*coughcough*), but I gotta say I was blown away by yesterday’s late news that Bush had pardoned (ooops, commuted the 30-month prison sentence for) Scooter Libby. My initial reaction was surprise that Bush’s statement was two pages long . . . rather than just two words (“Fuck” and “You”). His approval rating is hovering below 30% now. Guess to whom he’s governing? That’s right, the same sub-30% crowd.
In other news, this application process to get Mia into kindergarten is quite . . . involved. Birth certificate, social security card, shot records, physical form, two proofs of address, DNA sample, Purity Test results, and multiple application forms. Okay, so a couple of those things are optional. But, yeah, as we were gathering the materials to submit, I realized that we had never gotten Mia’s birth certificate.
I had a sneaking suspicion a while back that this might be the case. One day, for whatever reason, I’d been half-searching for it and found some half-letter-sized, blue carbon of Mia’s birth information and some vague instructions about obtaining additional copies of the certificate. Was THAT the birth certificate? (No.) The last time I saw it was at my office, and I’ve yet to see it since switching offices. I did another search at home for the same blue paper, but I couldn’t find it. However, I DID find some social-security instructions that mentioned not being able to get a card until we name our child (which we did right at the get-go . . . and we got the social security card [which I managed NOT to lose]). But on the second page of the social-security instructions, there was a paragraph that said our birth certificate would not AUTOMATICALLY be provided. See, I don’t understand that. You figure with all the pointless forms and pamphlets and copies of pointless forms, you’d get a birth certificate from the hospital. I even found some keepsake thing with Mia’s foot prints and lots of blanks for us to fill out her birth info.
This is all why I didn’t post about Scooter Libby earlier (timelier). Because I had to drive across town to the County Health Department to get Mia’s birth certificate. The OFFICIAL one. And, finally, Thursday, we can turn in her kindergarten application.
Right after she finishes taking the Purity Test.