Tuesday, February 28, 2006

early evening

Nothing That A Little Lottery Win Wouldn’t Solve

Let’s see, I feel nauseous, anxious, panicky, depressed and anti-social.  I’m in pain, can’t get a job, and keep getting new medical bills.  The only part of the day that I find mildly entertaining is when the kittens do something cute.  Okay, that’s fairly often, but still… So, how does one recover from life paralysis?  I don’t even feel like blogging anymore.  And oh, by the way, sitting in front of us at the Wranglers game on Saturday, “Dewey” from Malcolm in the Middle.  Seems like a nice boy.  It’s too bad the Leafs can’t play like the Wranglers.  See, I don’t even care about paragraphs anymore.  Although, I do still care about apostrophes, which is why I had to write to the new Red Rock Station hotel/casino about their commecial with not one, but TWO, apostrophe errors.  It’s kind of pathetic.  Hey, maybe I could proofread casino commercials.

The good news is that tomorrow we learn how to use our glass etching equipment, and on Thursday we learn how to use our dye sublimation equipment.  So soon, we’ll be making stuff and (hopefully) selling stuff. 

   

Update - the good news is...sometimes you whine and for some odd reason the universe shifts and you make three sales before you get up in the morning.  If they’re approved, then I’m happy for at least 24 hours.

Saturday, February 25, 2006

late evening

R.I.P. Carl Kolchak

Night Stalker Laid to Rest: Darren Mcgavin Dies at age 83.  While Darren McGavin is probably best recognized by mainstream moviegoers for his role as the father of a boy yearning for the gift of a BB gun in the 1983 comedy A Christmas Story, horror fans know him as Carl Kolchak, the irascible reporter who was forever stumbling upon supernatural cases in the 1974-75 TV series, The Night Stalker.  McGavin died of natural causes at a Los Angeles-area hospital at 7:10 a.m. Saturday with his family at his side, said his son Bogart McGavin.

Incidentally, he also starred alongside Don Knotts, who died Friday night, in the 1976 family comedy, No Deposit, No Return.

Monday, February 20, 2006

lunch time

Omigawd!

We lost our modem for over three hours.  Horrors!  And then, and then, and then, they were going to send a technician to our house between eight and ten tomorrow morning.  To come inside the house.  I’d have to clean and get up early, for the cable guy.  The first tech person told us that it was only our connection that was gone.  When we called back to ask a question, they’d found out that “only us” was a couple hundred other households.

Even though I’d known that our connection was back for about twenty minutes, it was lovely to get the call from the cable company cancelling our tech visit for the morning.  Yay!  I’m just so not in the mood to have anyone come over.  I’m tired and sore and fat and cranky and depressed.  So there.

Friday, February 17, 2006

late morning

The Kitten Meets The Cat - For The Snooze

Scampi was snoozing on the blanket, when chubby Derek decided to very carefully, so as not to squish him, join him for a nap.  This is the first time Derek has decided to even tolerate any of the kittens.

Tie & Bing, romping on the seven foot tall cat tree, which is full of Jackson’s really long black hair.  As soon as this migraine goes completely away (which is why I’m only posting pictures today), perhaps I’ll brush that hair off the tree.

Scampi & Bing, snoozing (until the flash went off) in their VW bug, with faux Daddy Frank keeping an eye on them.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

evening

I’d Trust Dr. Doolittle More

Dr. David Blanchard, the emergency room chief, estimated that Mr. Whittington had more than 5 but “probably less than 150 to 200” pellets lodged in his body.

Wouldn’t you expect the emergency room chief to be able to estimate more accurately how many pellets are lodged in a person’s body than more than 5, but probably less than 150 to 200?  He could easily just get to twenty by taking off his shoes.  Is it some national secret if there are between 6 and 149 pellets in the body of a 78 year old man shot by the vice-president?  Ordinarily, I wouldn’t laugh at a rich old guy in a neon orange vest being shot by another rich old guy in a neon vest, but the guys went hunting for teeny little birds.  Did they camp or hike to go shoot these itty bitty birds?  No, they drove.  In a car.  And then one shot the other.  So, I laughed.  I hope the guy is fine, but imagine if this heart thing ends up more serious and a sitting VP kills a guy, while hunting teeny tiny birds, after tracking them in a...car.  Ha!  Stupid.