the fountain pen

New Site is Now Open

2005-08-04T23:20:00.000-07:00

Here it is: The Fountain Pen.
(I've changed my Blogroll Me link, too.)
Housewarming presents are welcome, especially alcoholic beverages. I prefer pinot grigio. Just so you know. But really, you can bring whatever you want to drink.

The Proof is in the Pudding.... I Mean Pancakes

2005-08-03T22:33:00.000-07:00

HPIM0495, originally uploaded by catryan.

OK. I know there are some of you who didn't believe me when I said I would just be cooking and cleaning all week at my nonprofit daycare center. So here's the proof. I've made pancakes for breakfast every day this week!!!
You can get up now.
Plus I made tacos for dinner Monday and spaghetti with garlic bread on Tuesday.
Which is way too much cooking for me! So last night's dinner was take-out pizza.
And it might be breakfast tomorrow, too, cause I'm kind of tired of this pancake thing.

Wanna Kiss??

2005-08-03T22:12:00.000-07:00

bogart toilet, originally uploaded by catryan.

I Knew I Should Have Locked The Door

2005-08-02T10:29:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I kicked the boys out of the house for awhile, but I forgot to run around and lock all the doors. They snuck in through a side door after only an hour in the pool. I found them in the living room playing video games.
"Hey, you guys. You are supposed to be outside. What happened to the pool?" I asked.
"Aaah, we got tired of that. We're playing video games."
"Look. It's a beautiful day outside, the sun is shining. You boys should be outside."
No response. They completely ignored me. "Oh yeah, get that gun right there. You get extra ammunition with it," one said to the other.

"OK, well I'm going outside. Who wants to go outside with me and clean up horse poop?"I asked, enthusiastically. There were quiet chuckles around the room.
Then Lima Bean said, "Let's have a moment of silence. For my mother, whose lost her marbles."

My Nonprofit Daycare Center is Thriving

2005-08-01T13:00:00.000-07:00

Last week, I managed to import friends for Lima Bean every day of the week, and this week is already looking good. His two cousins spent the night and are staying through Tuesday. Then his friend Storm is coming over on Wednesday and Thursday, so it's another week of hibernation for me.

Yesterday, we had Jagman's whole family over for a cookout and swimming. Afterwards, Mensa Child said that he couldn't picture being raised by Jagman's mother, because she is very funny and quite a character. And Jagman thought about it for a moment and then explained that with six kids she was just always in the background. He knew he was loved, but mostly she was just kind of there, doing cooking and cleaning. And besides, when they were all kids, they weren't even in the house that much. They were out running around the neighborhood, playing with their friends. Then he said, "It's kind of like what your mother is doing with Lima Bean now, having friends over all the time. When he's with his friends, she's just there in the background, feeding them and making sure he has clean clothes to wear."

Which struck me as odd when I first heard it, but true. That's the way it should be for a 9 year old kid.

So I'll just be cooking and cleaning in the background for the next week. Which I guess is good, because it will give me time to read and work on my new blog site. (Maybe I'll even soak in the jacuzzi after my workout and enjoy my new luxury bath products.)

But first I have to make lunch for three boys.

101 Views From My Deck: #5

2005-07-31T11:56:00.000-07:00

Waiting for Dinner

It's Kind of Like "The Gift of the Magi" Story

2005-07-30T22:40:00.000-07:00

Except I didn't cut my hair and Jagman didn't buy combs for my hair. And he didn't sell his pocket watch, and I didn't buy a chain for his pocket watch. But other than all that, it's exactly like "The Gift of the Magi".

Yesterday, I decided to surprise Jagman by actually leaving the house and going shopping to get a replacement bird feeder, because ours was a cheap plastic one and it had cracked. Now this was quite a significant gesture, because I am in serious summer slob mode. And frankly, I 'm rather enjoying it. The other day, I sat in bed with my laptop and my coffee and did my blogsurfing. I've been staying in my pajamas until about 2 in the afternoon, when I put on either my swim suit or my exercise gear.

The other side effect of summer slob mode is that I haven't been wasting an hour of my life on personal hygiene like I do every morning when I have to go to work. In fact, I've accumulated quite a long list of rationalizations for not taking a shower and washing my hair when I'm not going anywhere anyway. And I've become quite good at it, because I am, after all, an overachiever, and anything I do I intend to do well. So take my word for it when I say that I am excelling at summer slob mode.

For example, the other night I came downstairs after taking one of my rare showers and plopped down on the sofa next to Jagman. He said, "Hey, what's up?"
And I said, "Well, I'm clean!!"
Because, let's face it, it was an occasion worthy of celebration on his part. Most days lately, he comes home from work thinking, ' This is my beautiful house. This is my beautiful car. This is NOT my beautiful wife.'

So yesterday, I decided to surprise Jagman and make myself presentable enough to go to the store and buy him a replacement bird feeder.
When he came home from work, he had a surprise gift for me, too!! He had gone to the mall for lunch and decided to buy something for me! (Which is why I said it's just like that story, except for how it's not.) So I was happy and excited.

Until I saw the bag. It was a Bath & Body bag, which stopped me dead in my tracks. I looked inside and there were two of those fabulous body scrubs that I love. He usually buys them for me at Christmas. I stared in the bag, analyzing what this present really meant.

When I looked up I said, "What? Are you trying to tell me I need to take a shower? You're not very subtle, are you? You walked through the whole mall thinking about what to buy for me, and you decided on personal hygiene products???"

So really, it's not at all like that story, because her husband bought her something she really wanted, not something to make her take a shower. I'm just glad I didn't cut my hair to buy that birdfeeder.

Deaf Players and a Pit Bull at the Thursday Night Soccer Game

2005-07-29T11:00:00.000-07:00

Last night, Jagman had another indoor soccer game. This one was surprisingly unusual; the team he was playing against was deaf.

They had a 'manager/coach' type person on the sideline with a clipboard who spent the whole game waving at people. I couldn't tell when she was waving at her own players, yelling at the ref for not calling something, or waving at our team's players for fouling. At the beginning of the game, she went out and explained to the ref that the team was deaf so they couldn't hear the whistle and he would have to use hand signals.

I was fascinated by this and glad that we had dragged Lima Bean along. I considered how it would be different for them to play soccer without being able to holler out to their teammates or hear warnings from the sideline. Then I noticed that Jagman's team was not really yelling to each other as much as usual. I don't know if it was intentional or not, but the first 5 minutes of the game were very quiet.

I found myself secretly rooting for the deaf team, I guess because I thought they were the underdogs.

That was until things got ugly. They were playing really rough, fouling everybody, pushing and tripping. One guy kept putting his hands up in the air every time the ball was airborne, as if he was going to catch it. In general, they were giving the impression that they didn't know how to play the game. By half-time, the ref had to come over and explain to the team, with hand gestures,etc. that they couldn't touch the ball with their arms whether it was intentional or not, and that a handball violation included anything from the hand all the way up to the shoulder. They all responded as if this was news to them. The ref also warned them about the pushing. Then he went over to our team, who was complaining about the ref not calling any of the fouls; he told them he could only call what he saw and he hadn't seen everything they were complaining about.

The second half was just plain nasty. The pushing, shoving, and tripping continued. Our team was yelling at the ref for not calling anything. He was threatening to give them yellow cards. Then he went over and told the deaf 'coach' that if her team didn't stop pushing, he would have to give them yellow cards. They didn't stop, but he never followed through.

I also realized that a lot of their 'ignorance' about the rules had to be an act, because everyone of their players had the kind of fancy footwork that only comes from years of experience. Which meant there was no way they had never played soccer and didn't know what a handball was.

At one point, the ref told our team to stop fouling the deaf players and concluded his lecture by saying "That's the way girls play." I couldn't hear everything he said prior to that, but I could tell it was meant as a reprimand and an insult to the men on the team.

So even though I could have cared less about who won, and was actually playing solitaire on my palm during the game prior to this, I was now fuming. My blood was boiling and my full attention was on the game and this referee.

Our team lost 5-4, and it was a hard loss because the game had been so ugly. As I walked past them on the way to the door, I said, "Did that ref actually say 'That's the way the girls play'?" because I wanted to make sure I hadn't misunderstood it. But no, that was exactly what he had said. So I told Jagman to go ahead, because I was waiting for that ref to come off the field.

When he finally did, he went over to the woman working behind the counter and gave her a full explanation of the rules of soccer and how our team had misunderstood them. He was, if you haven't figured out by now, a complete ass. This woman could have cared less about what the soccer rules are; she was working the cash register. He just wanted to hear himself pontificate. So when he was finished and turned to leave, I said, "Excuse me. I just want you to know that I was offended by your comment to the yellow team when you said, 'That's the way girls play.'"

He looked surprised at first, and then, when he remembered the comment, proceeded to justify it with an anatomy lesson for me about how men foul with their arms and shoulders and women foul with their hips because their center of gravity is different and how he even teaches that to the students in his referee classes. He clearly expected that he had mollified me with this dazzling display of irrelevance.

But he didn't realize that he had a pit-bull on his ankle, because I just stared at him and responded, "And how was that relevant? If you wanted them to stop fouling, it shouldn't matter how they were fouling. There was no reason to mention a comparison to girls at all."

At that point, I could see him give up. He knew he was fighting a losing battle with a psycho chick, and said, "OK, I'm sorry that I offended you."
I said, "Thank you" and left.

When I got into the car and told Jagman and Lima Bean about the conversation, I was shocked by Lima Bean's response.
He said, seriously and with awe, "Wow Mommy. You were so brave to say something to that man. I would never be that brave."
And I was momentarily horrified by this response, and not only because I didn't see anything 'brave' about what I had just done. I was horrified because images of him as a teenager at a party with drugs and alcohol flashed before my eyes. Then I saw him standing idly by while his peers were cruel to the uncool/unattractive/handicapped or whatever kids in middle and high school.
So I said, "Well, I hope you will be brave enough to stand up for your beliefs. Especially when you get older. It's very important that you take a stand when people are doing things that you think are not right."

Looking back on it now, I'm almost glad that ref was such an ass. Moments like that, when we have an opportunity to teach our kids something that won't go in one ear and out the other, are so rare. And I think that might have been one of them.

It's Like A Cold Shower

2005-07-28T00:30:00.000-07:00

When I used to spend every Friday taking Lima Bean to golf lessons, I admired the convertible blue Jaguar in the parking lot. And I would get rather hot and steamy, and not because it was 90 degrees outside, either. But I was, after all, in a parking lot with a car, so I realized I needed to come up with something to think about to cool off, fast, when somebody would walk by. And the one image I could always use to put the brakes on my automotive fantasy was

Karl Rove.

Oh, yeah. That worked everytime. Which is why I don't believe one word of this story .

Be Careful What You Ask For

2005-07-28T00:05:00.000-07:00

Peaches just caved in and bought her middle schooler his own cell phone. I hope it was a camera phone, because then she can use it this way:

There was a big party that 16 year old John wanted to go to, but his parents said no way. That night, he called home from his new camera cell phone to tell his mother that he was over his friend Steve's house playing video games.
His mother said, "Oh really. You're at Steve's?"
"Yup."
"Are his parents home?"
"Oh, yeah, of course."
"Good. Then go ask Steve's mother if you can take a picture with your new cell phone of her standing in her kitchen (which I've seen). And then send it to me."
BUSTED.

Bermuda Is Not Bohemia

2005-07-27T00:56:00.000-07:00

I've been actively importing friends this week to keep Lima Bean occupied. Today I invited a boy who's in LimaBean's class and on his soccer team. In fact, his father is the soccer coach.

Jagman and I aren't too happy with the whole soccer coach arrangement because the coach thinks he is Big Man On Campus and the whole world should revolve around him. Coach BMOC refuses to commit to a day of the week for soccer practices. We just received the email listing the practices for the month of August: Mon/Wed, then Wed/Fri, then Thur/Fri, then Tue/Wed. He travels a lot for his job (where I'm sure he also thinks he's BMOC), hence the ~~psychotic~~ random schedule. We have already had 'words' with him about our need for a regularly scheduled day of the week for practice, so that we can schedule other activites that aren't supervised by such BMOC's as himself. But, as expected, we got the "I'm doing the best I can do" and you should be grateful I'm coaching, since I'm such a talented former soccer player and a BMOC at work, too attitude.

And if that were true, we might tolerate his self-centeredness, but the fact is there's nothing to indicate he was that great when he did play soccer, and Jagman frequently disagrees with his strategies. (Jagman played soccer on a team that won the state championship, so he knows soccer.)
But, short of pulling LimaBean off the team (which he's been on for three years now) and having Jagman coach, we have to put up with Coach BMOC, even though we are disgusted by his egotistical attitude and general belief that his time is more important than ours.

Which brings me to today. I called his wife at noon to see if Patrick wanted to come over. She said, "He'd love to. I'll just get a work-out in and feed him lunch. Then I'll bring him over at 2."

By 4:30 she still hadn't arrived!!! At 4:40 she called and said she was leaving the house in 5 minutes and that she "got caught up doing stuff around the house." Yeah, like taking a nap??

I was furious. This is the second time she's been significantly late like that and messed up my plans. I didn't run to the store or start MY workout because I kept expecting her to arrive any minute.

Jagman came home before she arrived, and I filled him in on the story. He was equally disgusted; it was yet another example of how arrogant they both are. Whatever they are doing is more important than anything we'd be doing. I went to get on the treadmill, partly to burn off my fury but also to avoid having to talk to her when she arrived.

Patrick emerged from the car with his hair still beaded, because they just got back from Bermuda last Saturday. Jagman said something to her about it being 5:00, not 2:00 and she replied, laughing, "Oh, I'm still on bohemian time." Bohemian time? What does that mean? You got "caught up" working on your novel? painting? writing an epic poem???

Then she said, "Patrick has a dentist appointment tomorrow at 3pm, so I'll be back to pick him up at 2:00."

Jagman laughed and said, "Yeah, OK. So you'll show up at 3:30. And get to the dentist around 5:00."

Haha. Hooray for Jagman!! I'm just sorry I wasn't there to hear it myself.

Pleasantville, USA

2005-07-26T00:21:00.000-07:00

My brother, Babybull, and Shopping Girl chose their new house for the neighborhood, and I have to say I was shocked that a place like it still exists in America today. I felt like I was in a time warp, on the set of Happy Days. Some of the houses even looked exactly like the Cunningham's house on the show. Then there's another model that looks like a miniature version of the Brady Bunch house.

But it wasn't just the architecture or the mature trees lining the streets that made me feel like I was in a different century. Everyone there behaved differently than they behave where I live, which is essentially in the middle of nowhere, but close to suburbia.

The biggest difference was that many of the kids had walked to the neighborhood pool in groups or even by themselves. There weren't parents hovering over them the way they do where I live. There's only one neighborhood around me where kids would be safe enough to walk to the pool without parents. But then they might be hit by a car, because everyone drives like maniacs, because we're always late for something.

Which was something else that struck me as unusual in their new neighborhood. There weren't that many cars driving around, even though it was a huge neighborhood with hundreds of houses. And when a car did drive by, it was at the posted, safe speed. There were no speed bumps on the road like there are in every neighborhood around me, and they didn't need them. Cars stopped completely at all the stop signs, many of them 4-way.

Then there were the bike trails: 15 miles of pristine, paved, marked bike trails from Mt. Vernon all the way to DC. They were marked with dotted yellow lines where it was safe to pass (for bike riders) or solid yellow lines where no passing was allowed. Police officers occasionally ride through them. No matter what time of day I passed by, those trails were populated with young and old, walkers, bikers, baby strollers.

All the schools are within a bike's ride, and there's a class size limit of 13 in the lower grades at the elementary school. Based on what I saw at the pool, I doubt they have any serious discipline problems. Every time a lifeguard blew a whistle and told a kid to do or not do something, that kid listened. No lip. No backtalk. And they were taking orders from 16 and 17 year old kids. There's a directory distributed to everyone in the neighborhood that lists the names of kids who will babysit, animal sit, cut lawns, etc. Most of the mothers are stay-at-home moms, and I'm sure they're involved in the school, sports teams, scouting, etc.

From the day I first saw the place, I must admit I suffered pangs of guilt for not allowing Lima Bean to grow up in a neighborhood like this. His life would be so very different from what it is. He could really experience independence like the kids in The Sandlot. He could hop on his bike and say, "I'm going to the pool/Bobby's house/my scout meeting" and be safe. There are so many kids; he would never be lonely.

Ok, maybe it wouldn't really be the Pleasantville I've just created, but it might be close. And it would be a far cry from the isolation that is his home now. His nearest friend is 5 miles away. We have to put the bikes in the car and drive to the track or a park to ride them.

So during my moments of guilt, I actually explored job possibilities closer to 'nirvana' and seriously considered it. But I couldn't have my horses in my own backyard. And I wouldn't be right next to thousands of miles of trails. And I couldn't afford to board 4 horses either.

But the real clincher was when we spent the night there and visited an open house. When I stood in the living room and looked over into the neighbor's kitchen window, I knew I couldn't live there. When I sat up in bed reading Harry Potter and heard the neighbors coming home after midnight, opening and closing car doors, and had to get up to make sure it wasn't teenagers messing with the Jag, I knew I couldn't live there. When the neighbor's delightful, pleasant, friendly father-in-law stopped to talk about Lima Bean's new bike, I knew I couldn't live there.

Because I realized that basically, I don't like living near other people. I don't like making small talk when I go out to get the newspaper, or come home with the groceries, or when I'm gardening or mowing the lawn. I don't want to hear their car doors, I don't want to hear them talking. I don't want their kids running over to our house and knocking on the door to see if Lima Bean can play when my house is clean, quiet and orderly and he's perfectly content by himself.

I interact with over 150 people every day in my job, and that's one of the things I love about it. But it's also why, when I come home at the end of the day, I want privacy and wide open spaces surrounding me.

So Lima Bean will have to suffer through a childhood growing up in the 'middle of nowhere', just as Mensa Child did. Because I have found my Pleasantville, USA, and it's surrounded by horse manure. And I'm going to stop feeling guilty about it.

Weekend Snapshots: Alexandria, Shopping, Bike Riding and No Subways

2005-07-25T00:30:00.000-07:00

I spent the weekend with my brother and Shopping Girl in their new house. It's in Alexandria, VA. They live three miles away from Mt. Vernon, but no, we didn't do the sightseeing tour thing. We went to relax and enjoy their new neighborhood, which is so incredible I think it deserves its own blog entry, maybe tomorrow.

They have a neighborhood pool, so we lounged about Saturday and Sunday afternoon. It reminded me EXACTLY of the pool in The Sandlot.

We walked through Alexandria and had dinner there. While shopping ( which was an inevitable event for the evening) I happened upon a handbag store. That was a 20 minute stop. While I was there, a woman had (finally) decided on a bag she wanted. She walked over to the open door and hollered out, "Honey! Do you want me to use a credit card or what?" Next thing I know, a wallet came flying through the door and hit her right in the face. She bent down to pick it up, laughing, and hollered out, "Well, you didn't have to THROW it at me," then walked over to the cash register to buy her new handbag. She didn't seem to mind that he threw the wallet at her, as long as he gave her the money.

Even after 20 minutes, I didn't buy a new handbag, mostly because they wanted $85 for a LV knockoff. And since it is my OWN money I'm spending, and not Jagman throwing his wallet at my face, I was not about to spend $85 on a purse, even if it did say it was Louis Vitton Made in France.

On the way back from dinner, my brother said to Jagman, "You know, if you really need a belt, I know a store that begins with W that is open until midnight and we could swing by if you want" which was code for If you want to buy a bike for Lima Bean, we can go to Walmart. Except either it wasn't very good code, or Lima Bean is a gifted and talented cryptographer, because all of a sudden he said, "Oh, yeah! We can go to Walmart and buy a bike right now!"

My brother went to Walmart the next morning and bought a 20" bike to keep at his house for Lima Bean. The bike trails there are simply unbelievable. You could ride your bike all the way from Mt. Vernon to Washington DC on beautiful paved paths that border the Potomac. After we rode around a little with Lima Bean, Jagman and I went back out to ride to Mt. Vernon and back. It was a great workout, different from my usual pilates and running. I felt like Lance Armstrong barreling up those hills or flying down them. Except that going down was really pretty scary and I was hitting my brakes a lot. I decided I felt much safer galloping on my horse than going downhill on a bike at full speed, and I have new appreciation for what those cyclists do.

I also finished the Harry Potter book over the weekend, and I do think it is the most memorable so far. As I began reading this one, I realized that I had very little recollection of what had happened in the Order of the Phoenix, or even the Goblet of Fire. And it struck me as unusual, this vacuum, because I can usually at least remember the plot of the novels I read. In fact, if it's a great book, there are scenes that haunt me. This last Harry Potter book will haunt me, I think, in that way. And maybe that's because it's finally crossed the line from being a 'children's' book to being literature. There is enough real tragedy in it, and it does not have the typical happy ending of a children's book.

Mensa Child couldn't come with us because he had already planned to go to New York for the night with a friend. Because of the London bombings, Jagman and I 'lectured' him about not riding the subways and taking a cab to get around town. I don't know if he listened to us or not, but he sent me a text message at 1:36am that said "I'm still alive!", so I felt better when I woke up on Sunday morning and saw that. And he was home, safe and sound, when we got back from VA.

So a good weekend was had by all.

101 Views From My Deck:#4

2005-07-24T23:49:00.000-07:00

Female Gossip 101

2005-07-23T12:15:00.000-07:00

Gossip, by definition is "rumor or talk of a personal, sensational, or intimate nature" or "trivial, chatty talk or writing." When I get together with my girlriends, ours usually focuses on what's been happening in our lives and with the work situations... who's resigning, who's up for promotions, etc.

Yesterday I met my friend the Goddess for happy hour. I haven't talked to her in two weeks, so we had a lot of catching up to do. I invited Jagman to join us, and he arrived 15 minutes into the first story, which was about the Goddess's father, who's retired and starting to suffer from depression.

He works now for homeland security, and as we were talking about his new job and how it's not as 'important' as his previous job, Jagman interjected something about the China situation, which was on topic for a discussion about homeland security, but which was totally off-topic - and not even allowed- for a girl's gossip session.

We both just stopped and looked at him.
The Goddess said, patiently, "Ok, Jagman. Obviously you need a lesson in Female Gossip 101. It's ok to interrupt and interject with comments, as long as they are appropriate comments, not comments discussing real-life, serious issues like China."
"Yeah," I said. "We don't care about China."
"Right," the Goddess said. "For instance, if during my discussion, I might mention So & So at work, you ARE allowed to interject with comments like 'Oh, yeah, she's got a fat ass' or 'Oh, yeah, she was really wasted at the last happy hour.' But you AREN"T allowed to interject comments like 'Oh yeah, she's the one that wrote that great article about atomic transfusion that was published in Scientist Weekly.' "
"Right," I said. "If you interject real, substantive comments like that too often, you'll be voted off the gossip island."

So we continued catching up with the news about her father, her week's vacation with her boyfriend and his family at the beach, the latest announcements about retirements and who might be promoted.

Jagman is a fast learner. Every once in awhile, he would say something like "Oh, yeah. She's the one who looks likes she's on steroids" or "I can't believe she still thinks she's going to get promoted." But he never made the mistake again of bringing up something worth talking about, like whether there will be a filibuster over John Roberts.

Farewell Convertible Blue Jaguar

2005-07-21T09:43:00.000-07:00

Yes, I'm sorry to say that Lima Bean's golf lessons are over, and therefore I will no longer be parking my car as closely to you as I can every Friday afternoon for our intimate happy hours. And I can't promise that I can get away any other time to rendevous with you in the parking lot by the golf course. Maybe occasionally, I can buy Lima Bean a bucket of balls to hit at the driving range so I can park next to you, but I really can't see you on a regular basis anymore.

Oh, it's not because I'm not attracted to you. You are the hottest car I have ever seen. Your deep navy color is exquisite against the creamy leather interior, especially when you are topless and just showing off that gorgeous wood-grain trim interior. I just want to jump in and purr, cuddle up against that lumbar support and stroke your steering wheel.

But it is not meant to be. You are much too high maintenance for me, and probably full of yourself, too. You would expect to be washed every week so you could show off your sleek lines and glossy paint job. You would want an oil change every 3000 miles, and frankly, I just can't fit that into my schedule. I'm a career gal, you know; I can't spend half my days taking you to the shop just so the mechanic can make all over you, tune you up, play with your pistons, or give you a valve job .

No. Let's face it. You are too high maintenance for a woman; we need to spend that kind of time on ourselves, not our cars. You need a man. You need a man who will adore you enough to let you have your time with your mechanic and your weekly massages at the car wash. You need a man who will polish your wheels so they gleam like a mirror in the parking lot. You need a man who will keep you in top shape and looking gorgeous so that I can admire you.

Oh yes! You need a Jagman who will keep you in my garage every night!

This Is Just To Say

2005-07-20T15:00:00.000-07:00

I have bought
the razor blades
you've been
asking for

they were
behind the counter
at customer
service

Thank me.
I paid for them
separately
a pain
in the ass

PS. If I
should become
famous
after I'm
dead

please don't
anthologize
my
post-it
notes

(Here's the link to the real William Carlos Williams poem "This Is Just To Say")

Photos of Frankenstein's Birth

2005-07-20T14:03:00.000-07:00

Building the Beast: The Birth of Frankenstein

2005-07-19T22:30:00.000-07:00

Mensa Child's primary past time is gaming; therefore, he needs a computer with the fastest processor, the most advanced graphics card, and a ton of RAM. It will cost thousands of dollars. It will be outdated (for gaming, at least) in a year.

Last week he announced that he was going to build his own computer. He could buy the parts he needs for $300 and keep the graphics card he just bought. "Really?" I said, kind of relieved by the prospect, because it would save me thousands of dollars, but equally wary, because if it didn't work it would cost me thousands of dollars. "Do you know how to build your own computer?"
"My friend does and he's going to help me. He's built his own a couple of times," he said.

So he ordered the parts on Friday and the FedEx guy delivered them today. Then I went with him to the computer store to buy a case. He did a great job of haggling over the price with the store owner. The case started off being $60. Mensa Child had him down to $40 within 30 seconds.
"I wasn't looking to spend $60," he said.
"How much were you looking to spend?" store owner asked.
"$40"
"Ok. I sell it to you for $40. I keep you as a customer. You will come back, yes?"
Yeah. I bet the store owner thinks he doesn't really know what he's doing and then he'll HAVE to come back with a half-built computer and pay the store owner to fix it for him.
Then Mensa Child asked if it came with the power source and the owner said yes.
"I already have a power source," Mensa Child said.
The guy took out the power source and dropped the price to $25!!!!

He was on a roll. He called his friend, told him he had all the parts and they agreed to meet at 7:30. Mensa Child spread the parts out on the kitchen island next to the empty box and looked at everything with excitement and a little apprehension.
"Man, if this thing works, it's going to be a beast. Alex calls his The Death Machine," he said, with the kind of awe in his voice that only a fellow gamer can truly appreciate.

Alex arrived at 7:30 and they began to dismantle the components from the existing machine. It was somewhat disconcerting to watch them discussing how to disconnect, and render useless, a computer that cost us over $1000 and that was still working. Each piece that came out was covered with layers of thick, heavy dust. Disgusting. Some of the pieces were difficult to dislodge, and the guys were holding their breath as they pulled, afraid to break something.

At one point, Mensa Child reached into the new case to pull out the CD cover and gashed his thumb. Assembly halted while I poured peroxide on the cut and bandaged it tightly to stop the bleeding. It was a pretty long, deep gash that might leave a scar; Mensa Child thinks that will give him bragging rights - "Yeah, that's from the first time I built my own computer."

By 9:30, they had finished. The computer booted, but the hard drive from the old computer "doesn't like the kind of motherboard that I'm using" so they needed to reinstall the operating system. This led to a frantic, and ultimately useless, search for the disks that came with his computer. (Of course, when Jagman heard what was going on, he said, "Get the heck out of here. How could they start a process like that and not have the operating system disks?")

At this point, something illegal is going on up in that computer room, which is so complicated that I don't feel like wasting my brain cells to understand it. It will take hours to accomplish, but by the time I wake up, Windows XP will be on his new computer.

(Of course, he could just wait until tomorrow, drive 20 minutes to his college campus and buy XP for $10. When I asked him why he was going to all this trouble instead of just waiting until tomorrow morning, he said, "What will I do all night without my computer?")

Right now, it's a letdown that it isn't working. But I'm sure that when it does work tomorrow, he will be conquering a magnitude of enemies and his beast's victories will become legendary. He's naming it Frankenstein.

So if you're into gaming and are suddenly mutilated by Frankenstein, you'll know who it is!

101 Views From My Deck: #3

2005-07-19T10:39:00.000-07:00

Disposable Computers??

2005-07-18T16:13:00.000-07:00

I read an article Corrupted PC's Find New Home in the Dumpster about desktop computers becoming the next disposable item in our society. A lot of people already think of their printers as disposable; for the cost of new ink cartridges, you can buy a new printer - and apparently a lot of people do just that.

Now,though, due to adware and spyware programs clogging personal computers and slowing them down, a lot of people are just buying new desktop systems for $400. The man quoted in this article is an "Internet industry executive who holds a PhD in computer science", and HE didn't feel like wasting his time going through the steps to remove the adware.

This was of little consolation to me. My Norton Internet Security software found an adware program that it couldn't delete for me. It came with hyperlinked instructions about restarting my computer in Safe Mode, rerunning the scan and then trying to delete the adware. If that didn't work, I would have to use Windows Explorer to find it and get rid of it.

I just updated my Norton and paid for their best package, and I only did that to avoid the nonsense I had to go through with their basic package. When that one found adware and spyware, I would have to print out directions that were 3 pages long and involved opening registers and other files deep within my computer to look for the particular file names that contained the offending programs. The file names were like Greek to me, but I was supposed to find them and then hit the delete button! I always held my breath when I did it, waiting for the computer to crash or something godawful to happen.

Hence the upgrade when it was time to renew my subscription. I thought the 'best' package was just supposed to delete the adware for me, effortlessly. So I wasn't too happy about having to do it myself, especially since it was running a scan on my desktop in Safe Mode for nearly two hours.

But at the end of that process, it did delete the adware on its own. Then I restarted in regular mode, all clean and healthy again.

Was it a pain in the butt? Yes. Was it time-consuming? Yes. Was it beyond my intellectual abiliy? No. Do I have a PhD in computer science? NO.

So why can't Dr. Internet Computer Guru run Norton Internet Security on HIS computers instead of throwing them out???

Extreme Makeovers

2005-07-18T00:01:00.000-07:00

Well, it's really not that extreme, but it is a makeover. I've saved the old one, of course, because I'm anal. I actually enjoy playing with HTML. Oooh, does that make me a geek??? Nah, because I don't really know what I'm doing; it's all cut and paste, hit or miss. But it is definitely cheaper to redecorate this site than my family room. Plus, Jagman doesn't have to paint or move furniture!

It's Like a Black Fly in Your Chardonney

2005-07-17T23:30:00.000-07:00

Despite the fact that I have bought TWO iPods during the last month (one for me and one for Mensa Child), I was driving around to do the errands today listening to the radio (because the boys in my house were using the iPods)!

I went back to Barnes and Noble today to get my reserved copy of Harry Potter for $17.99. My father, who could care less about Harry Potter, walked into a Walmart where there were three huge displays of the books in different areas of the store. They were selling them to anyone who walked in off the street for $15!!!!

101 Views From My Deck: #2

2005-07-16T17:15:00.000-07:00

We have quite a following of yellow finches thanks to Jagman filling the feeder regularly. Sometimes there are so many they fight over the posts and sit in the window boxes to wait their turn.

I Am Sooo Glad I Didn't Stand In Line For That Bracelet

2005-07-15T23:30:00.000-07:00

Harry potter madness

That's the photo I sent from my cell phone while we were at the Barnes and Noble store. It's not as good as the digital camera pictures, but, hey, it's a cell phone.

I preordered the book and received the flyer explaining how I could get the book at the Midnight Madness party. I was supposed to get there between 6-10pm to get a bracelet. If my bracelet number was between 1-150, I would be allowed IN THE STORE to wait in line for the book at midnight. If my number was higher than 150, I would need to wait outside until my number was called.

When it was close to 6pm and I knew I wasn't going to get to the store, I decided we were not waiting in line for the bracelet or going back at 11pm. I knew there were already 150 people in line by 6:30, so Lima Bean and I decided to just go for the kids' activities and to see the other costumes. He dressed up in his Harry Potter costume from Halloween.

The kids' activities were ok. They had a stupid cardboard press release for the book with a hole in the middle for picture opportunities. If they had had a life-size cardboard of image of Harry Potter to take your picture with, that would have been cool. Then there was the costume contest. Just about every kid present was wearing the same outfit as Lima Bean. So the kid who won first place for under 7 only won because he had a really cool, life-size owl puppet with a head that could move. First place in LimaBean's class went to a girl who dressed up like Professor Trelawny (the 'crazy' divination teacher), mostly because she was the only girl who wasn't in a black Harry Potter cape with black glasses, a wand and an owl. Then they had some employees walking around asking trivia questions and giving out prizes. Lima Bean got a green 'Livestrong' type bracelet with July 16, 2005 and phoenix wings printed on it.

While Lima Bean was answering trivia questions, I heard an employee answer a phone call and explain that as long as you were in the store before they officially closed at 11pm, you could stay in the store until after midnight. So I asked her if I stayed in the store and waited for everyone who had a bracelet to get a book if I could then get a book without a bracelet. She didn't know. I had to ask the manager, who was manning the front door.

When I got to the manager, he was explaining to another woman that, because the fire marshall had raised concerns, now EVERYONE who had a bracelet was going to have to line up outside, and the people who had numbers 1-150 had to be there by 11pm. They had to change the rule because the store was going to stay open, so people could be inside getting drinks and food, etc. And she said, "So the 2 1/2 hours I just spent waiting in line to get a low number so I could wait in the store has all been for nothing????"

And I looked at her, nodding my head, because I was just thinking, Thank God I didn't wait 2 1/2 hours in that line for that stupid bracelet or I would be having a bitch-fit right now. But the manager was talking in a soothing voice, saying, "Oh nooooo. You will be the first people called in, so as soon as midnight strikes, you will get your book within a matter of minutes." Yeah, but she'll be standing outside for an hour before that.

Another woman said, "What if it's raining, thundering and lightening?" The manager shrugged his shoulders. He didn't care. If she were struck by lightening, he was just going to sell her book to the next person in line.

Then I asked, "So if I just stay in the store and wait for everyone who has bracelets to get their books, then can I get my book?"

He looked around, realizing that, potentially, he was surrounded by crazed women shoppers, and if the answer to my question was Yes, he could suffer bodily harm in the next several minutes. "No, we're only selling the book tonight to people who have bracelets, because we don't want to be open all night."

Well, I was OK with that. I really didn't want to sit there until 1 or 2 am, and I had already decided to just come back over the weekend to get my book. But right then and there, I vowed to order the next book from Amazon.com. They were the only company guaranteeing that every person who ordered the book would receive it on Saturday, July 16. And that woman who stood in line for 2 1/2 hours seemed somewhat satisfied that at least I wasn't going to get a book that night.

Yeah, but I also wasn't going to stand in line outside in the rain for an hour after I already spent 2 1/2 hours in line in the store either!!!!

I bet she orders her book from Amazon.com next year, too.