I have friends from all walks of life: there are fans of Star Wars, Dr. Who, World of Warcraft, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, and yes, even Star Trek. These Trekkies have been insistent that Star Trek is actually interesting, and The Next Generation is a “good” show. I have always had my doubts, but they convinced me to start watching it, especially since it’s on instant on Netflix. I’m on about episode 10 in season 1, and so far? Still not a fan.
It’s pretty bad.
So Hubby and I made it into a drinking game! We haven’t actually been drinking while watching it, because even I don’t hate my liver THAT much, but here are the rules we can up with:
Take a drink:
1) If there’s an energy being.
2) If it’s a sex episode (like they land on a planet obsessed with sex, or the crew gets a virus that makes them want to have lots of sex).
3) If Riker looks at someone really intently, as though he’d like to make sweet sweet love to them (happens most frequently with Picard and Troi).
4) If Wesley Crusher knows what’s going on, but no one will listen to him because he’s just a kid.
5) If Data askes the meaning of a normal word that he should definitely know, because it’s in a dictionary (like aphrodisiac).
6) If any of the characters use their catch phrases: Picard says “Engage”, Troi wines about feelings, or Dr. Crusher tells Picard he should be in sick bay, or vaguely references that they used to be a couple.
7) If Worf gets the crap kicked out of him.
Finish your drink:
1) If there’s an energy being AND a sex episode in one (has actually happened)
Drink 1 gallon of wine:
1) If it’s a Q episode. Alcohol poisoning is a small price to pay to avoid hearing his smarmy voice. He is just awful.
When you get back from the emergency room, hopefully several episodes will have gone by, and new episodes of Doctor Who will be that much closer.
Occasionally, I am required to leave my house and go interact with people in the physical realm, mostly due to social obligations. It’s a travesty, I know. Why can’t I just stay home, watch Star Trek, and drink myself into a stupor, like God intended? I was bitching about having to get all fancy to my new gay BFF (there’s your shout out, bitch!), when he asked “What is ‘Austin Fancy’ exactly? From what I’ve heard and seen its like…a clean pair of shorts”. I explained I was attending an event that required me to SHAVE MY LEGS, so it was obviously a classy affair, but he got me thinking.
Many people know that Texas is like a whole other country, and some people would like it very much if that became a reality. Well, Austin is like a separate country inside that country, like Vatican City. We have Texas pride, but not a lot in common with the rest of the state, at least attitude-wise. You can go out to places that might have a dress code in Houston or Dallas wearing whatever you have on. There might be valets out front, but everyone inside is wearing t-shirts and drinking Dos Equis.
There’s also an interesting phenomenon I haven’t witnessed anywhere else: Young Hippies. They are everywhere here, at outdoor concerts, art shows, coffee houses, museums, you name it. They seem to wear body odor like a merit badge, and their dreadlocks are long and thick. But there are also trust-fund sorority princesses wearing tiny dresses, and puking on shoes that cost more than my car. This city is just diverse and accepting, no matter what you wear or who you are. I’ve seen older people I thought should be home watching Matlock at an art show in a random warehouse on the East side, so it just goes to show you never can tell.
Supposedly, my office is moving next week. Since my boss is a paper hoarder, we have our work cut out for us. The business has also been in this space for at least 10 years, so quite a bit of crap has accumulated. I’m doing my best to recycle what we can, and give unneeded things to Goodwill, or other worthy causes. This is how my car looked a couple days ago:
It looks like I robbed an Office Max. Those trays in the back are stacked 2 rows deep, by the way. It looks slightly better now, but a trip to Goodwill is a necessity this weekend. When I was cleaning out cabinets this morning I found a 3 inch long, dead scorpion, so that kind of shows you what I’m up against. But I (supposedly) get a fridge and a filing cabinet, and definitely a shorter commute out of this deal, so I’m looking forward to it. We’re not going to have a paperless office any time soon (because I’m not the Boss of the World), but we will have a much-reduced collection of paper and out-dated office supplies. Rolodex, anyone?
This week I was lucky enough to write a guest post on the Two Tokens web comic. Please head on over there and enjoy my scathing commentary! I’m hilarious and bitchy, all in one!
Some of you may already know that I have recently returned from a week-long trip to Florida. Hubby and I had a great time, and criss-crossed the state for our vacation fun. As much fun as we had, I did not like Florida, and Orlando in particular. I just don’t get the appeal.
Part of the problem is that it rained literally everyday we were there. I know this is atypical, since the nickname “Sunshine State” had to come from somewhere, but it was still unpleasant. For the first couple days we enjoyed it, coming from the drought-stricken state that we do. We wandered around, faces toward the sky, talking about how spoiled these Floridians are with all their rain. After a couple days of this, the skin on my entire body felt pruny; I couldn’t get dry. Everything in our hotel rooms, from the carpet to our laundry, felt moist. I worried about mildew growing on me.
We also had issues with the tap water. I don’t know if it’s too hard or too soft, but it tasted terrible, and made me break out. Even though I was using my own soap and shampoo, my skin stayed forever greasy, and my hair was dull and flat. Hubby had the same problems.
Driving in Florida is a nightmare. I love to drive fast, and I think speed limits everywhere should be raised to 85 mph, like in some lucky parts of Texas. We didn’t see anything higher than 55mph the whole trip, even on highways. I don’t know if it’s because all the retirees complained, or so you can avoid running over alligators, but it’s awful. It was so hard to restrain myself to such infantile speeds.
The other huge problem moving around the state is that most of the major highways are toll roads. In order to get anywhere with paying an arm and a leg we had to take long, meandering routes through jungles and swamps. What would have taken 45 minutes in Texas took over 2 hours.
My main gripe with the state is how fake it is. The minute we landed we realized the striking difference. The Austin airport is full of shops of local companies, like Amy’s Icecream, Bookpeople, and Waterloo Icehouse. Orlando’s is full of chains you see all over America, like McDonald’s, the Disney store (which is logical), and Macaroni Grill. It looked more like a mall than an airport. Hubby and I tried in vain the entire vacation to find somewhere local to eat. For seafood we only found Landry’s and Joe’s Crab Shack; for fast food there was Chik-fila (which we did NOT eat at), Wendy’s, and Steak and Shake (they have good breakfast tacos). There wasn’t even anything regional to try, like how Carl’s Jr. and In-n-Out are out west. The whole place was inauthentic and commercial, both things that I loathe.
Now that I have gotten all the complaining out of my system (just on this one topic, so don’t get your hopes up) I plan to write several blog posts about all the fun we had in Florida. It was a great vacation, but I’m content never to return to that state.
Hubby and I are heading off on a Magical Mystery Tour of Florida, and I had to refresh myself on all the rules of air travel. We’re taking Jet Blue, which allows us to check a bag for free, but otherwise I would be packing light and taking carry-ons for everything. One thing I have learned when traveling, is you might not have access to your checked bag. It might get lost, or, if your flight is delayed, the airline just might not give it to you. After living through this twice, I always make sure I have my most important stuff with me in my carry-on, such as an extra shirt and pair of panties, toothbrush, toothpaste, and especially contact case and solution if you wear them. Here’s the low down on packing liquids in your carry-on:
First of all, you only get a QUART sized zip lock bag to put your “liquids” in. I thought I could use gallon sized, but no, not even close. I included all the stuff that normally goes in my purse in my liquid bag, since I’m using a big purse for my carry-on. Throughout the year, I collect sample sizes of toothpaste, shampoo, and whatever else I might need, and I store them up in my bathroom specifically for traveling.
All of my stuff fit just fine, but I could have removed some stuff if necessary. All of your travel sizes have to be less than 3.4 ounces. Now that these travel rules have been in effect for awhile, almost every small product I found met this criteria. Remember that each person traveling gets to have one quart sized bag, so between me and Hubby, and our checked bag, we had ample space for our needs. Also, since we’re going to Florida, not the Ukraine or something, we’ll be able to purchase things we might need when we get there, so I’m not too worried about it. I also have very low beauty product requirements, which is a huge bonus for traveling light. Here’s the official site for info about liquid carry-ons.
The other thing to think about is going through the security line. You are allowed one carry-on bag, and one “personal item” like a purse or lap top. You have to set your bag on the belt to go through the x-ray, put your zip lock bag of liquids on separately, empty your pockets, take off your shoes and send them through, take your lap top out of the bag, send it and its bag through separately, and your jacket has to go through. It doesn’t seem that bad, but when there’s a line of people behind me, I get a little frantic. I’m not sure why. For your shoes, for the love of Valhalla, wear slip-ons, and socks. You don’t want to be the person in line having to untie your Doc Martens while everyone behind you sighs and looks at their watches. Since I’m going to have to walk across a questionable floor with no shoes, I’m wearing old black socks so if they get dirty, it won’t be visible. Here’s the official info on how to get through the security line easily.
There will be another post about hot to travel light, but right now I need to run around in circles and dance a little because I’M GOING TO FLORIDA!!! SUCK ON THAT!!!!
As I have mentioned a couple times, I recently had to have a small surgery performed. Here is the story. There are pictures, but I will save them until the very end in case you get grossed out easily, and I will warn you when they are coming.
It all started when I was reading a book. The main character in the book was pregnant, and she reached down to feel her uterus when she was about 3 months along, and said it felt like a round, hard tennis ball under her skin. I thought “That’s interesting, I wonder what a normal one feels like?”, so I reached down to my tummy, and felt a round, hard, tennis ball type thing. Umm….so that was unnerving. I sent Hubby for a home pregnancy test (I mean, we are responsible and all that LIKE EVERYONE SHOULD BE, but there’s always a chance), which came back negative (I TOLD YOU WE’RE RESPONSIBLE). So I went to my Lady Doctor, who sent me for a sonogram, which discovered a giant fibroid.
A fibroid is a benign growth (“It’s not a tuma!”). My doctor said the difference is a fibroid is made up of one cell cloning itself over and over, but a tumor is made up of mutant cells that grow out of control and cause other cells to mutate. The one I had had probably been growing for 2 years, and was about the size of a guinea pig. Immediately after I found all this out, Kornberg and I decided this stowaway needed a name and a back story. Obviously, it should be a she since she’s on my uterus, and she should be somewhat unpleasant, since she’s been causing me some discomfort, was going to be expensive to remove, and wasn’t even paying rent! We named her Shalene (pronounced shay-LEAN), and she is your classic, bitchy, Southern lady. she’ll make rude comments, but end it with “bless your heart”, so you can’t really get mad. She also had a tiny neighboring fibroid we decided was her tea-cup poodle named Princess.
The symptoms I was having were pretty mild, and it wasn’t until we knew Shalene was in there that we realized she was causing those problems. I was getting odd heart burn, like after I ate oatmeal, and I had horrific menstrual cramps like demons were trying to use me as a portal to cross over into our world. She also would have caused complications if I had been pregnant. As large as she was, she would have been poking my organs, or could have lost blood-flow and died while I was pregnant, leading to all kinds of complications. Since Hubby and I are on the inevitable track towards Baby Town, it was important to evict this bitch.
I have never been in the hospital before and never had any surgery other than wisdom teeth removal, so Hubby and I were nervous. The day before I went in, I was on a liquid diet, but apparently alcohol doesn’t count as a liquid. Isn’t that horrific?! The day of the surgery I couldn’t have anything, even water. My parents came and sat in the waiting room with me and Hubby, and we tried to talk about simple things my food-starved brain could comprehend. Once I was admitted, and had my glasses off, everything else is kind of a blur. I remember waking up in the recovery room and joking with the nurse that they should add bikini waxing services. I figured it would be a good test to prove that someone is under anesthesia, and that’s also the only way I would ever get one; drugged to unconsciousness.
I stayed in the hospital for 2 days, which was actually really nice. They gave me drugs and food without me having to do anything, and it was really quiet. Hubby stayed in the room with me the whole time, and our wonderful roommates were watching the animals for us. I didn’t know it at the time, but they also cleaned the whole house, and made me a gift basket of books, crafts, and Asian snack foods!!! Aren’t they the greatest?
Staying in the hospital was really nice. There was no “I should be getting something accomplished” feeling. There was nothing around me I had to do, and no one expected me to do anything. It was like a meditation retreat. All that guilt that settles into my shoulders all week, the I should be doing the dishes, mopping the floor, decluttering, blogging, etc. was non-existent, and it was nice. After that, I had to stay home for 2 weeks, which was also very restful. Friends brought me food, and Hubby waited on me hand and foot. All I did was sleep and read and eat! I also used this time to detox from coffee, which I was seriously hooked on. Now I can have a cup if I want, not because I have to, and it’s great!
Okay, well all in all it was fairly uneventful. Mostly I slept and took pills. If only every vacation could be so great! Now I’m healing up, I’m not addicted to pain killers or coffee, and I’m back at work (unfortunately). If you are squeamish, this is the end of the post. If you want to see what came out of me, keep going.
*WARNING: GROSS PICTURES OF MY INSIDES COMING UP*
This is Shalene when she was still attached to my uterus. You can see she’s seriously the size of a guinea pig.
Here she is after she was removed (and her little dog, too!) She weighed about a pound and a half.
This is the picture that creeped us out. Look at it a bit and see if you notice anything. I’ll wait………….ok it looks like an alien baby head! Everyone says so! Even the doctor!!! Shalene was obviously trying to take over my life like a pod person. I’m just glad we found her when we did. I don’t want to be replaced by a demon alien spawn! So creepy.
A couple weeks ago we had a ton of rain, which was very confusing to all of us in this perpetually droughted state. This rat snake showed up on our front porch, preventing Hubby from coming inside after work. I opened the garage for my precious Hubby, thereby rescuing him from a battle to the death to get through the front door. That’s just the kind of thoughtful spouse I am. This guy then retreated to under the front stoop, where I assume he can’t get into the house. We haven’t seen him since, so hopefully he’s moved on.
The same night there was a torrential downpour. I happened to hear a weird noise in the kitchen, and when I went to investigate there was water running down the wall from our kitchen window.
Our window are double paned, but they’re from the 80′s. That means each of the window panes is a separate piece that has to be opened or shut independently. The outer one was open, allowing rain to fill the inch wide gap between the panes. This was then pouring into the house because of the massive amount of rain. Hubby braved the elements to wrestle the outer window shut, and we then “bailed” water out of the tiny crack using wash clothes and towels. It took forever. We probably had 3 gallons of water come into the house through the window.
Later that evening I went into the back yard, just to check on things, and it was filling up with water. The area by the gate had gotten clogged with leaves, preventing water from running out into the street. It was my turn to fight the rain and wind. I pulled mountains of leaves and twigs out from the gate, allowing the water to drain from the yard. I came back in the house, dirty and soaking wet, and Hubby said, “Were you outside?” Of course we appreciate the rain, probably more than most people since it’s been hard to come by recently, but it can still be trying.
The day after a holiday weekend can be such a downer. Fortunately, we had a tiny amusement at work, and I thought you’d all like to get in on the fun. It’s a mystery sponge-in-a-pill toy! I don’t know what they’re really called, but here’s a time-lapse for you:
It’s a tiny pony! The body is about the size of a quarter. I hope you enjoyed the anticipation. It’s not quite the T-Rex I was hoping for, but it’s a new desk toy.
You know and I know that I’m amazing, but (hold on to your crochet hooks) I didn’t get this way on my own. I know, I know. “But you’re so unique and talented”, you’re thinking. “How could you be anything but a gift from the gods themselves?” That is a good question, and a valid point, but I can assure you I am a normal human being (I mean, cooler than most, obviously) and I was raised by a family just like the rest of you minions.
I was reflecting the other day on what made me so awesome after reading Mi Madre’s blog post about quilts that her grandmother made for me and my sister as babies. That sentence right there tells you a lot. Not only does my mom blog, (and my dad, and my sister, Beans), she taught us from an early age to value and revere handmade items, and to treasure things passed down through the family.
I have also learned some of my crafting skills from my family. My maternal grandmother taught me and Beans to crochet, and Mi Madre taught me the basics of quilting. We were always given free reign with arts and crafts as kids; maybe a little too free since Beans enjoyed biting the tips off markers. Mom taught us a lot about jewelry making, and sculpting beads, and just general crafts. Art, crafting, and DIY were always encouraged in our house. My dad has mad skillz when it comes to home repairs, which I’ve tried to exploit, but not that well.
Basically, since it’s Mother’s Day, I’d like to say thank you to all the women in my family who have not only passed down important skills, but have also passed down the knowledge to value these skills and their products. Thanks so much, and I love you. I hope you liked this blog post because I forgot to send a card! HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!!!
Happy National Star Wars Day! May the Fourth be with you.