God, I still love Queen.
I have I Love the 70's on in the background while I keep an eye on my eBay auctions, and the segment on Freddy Mercury and Queen just came on. One of the commentators called him, "Arguably the greatest front man of all time."
I agree.
Have you ever seen footage of them in concert? I mean, he could actually sing, could have been a brilliant composer in any style, and must have collapsed from complete exhaustion after every concert from all the effort he put in to every song. That was a concert ticket you must have gotten your money's worth.
He wrote everything. Pseudo 50's ballad (Crazy Little Thing Called Love), Comedy (Bicycle Race), plenty of hard rock (a bunch of songs, Tie Your Mother Down is a good example...the opening guitar riffs there are truly great), operetta/hard rock better than Tommy by a long shot (Bohemian Rhapsody), social commentary (Under Pressure), wry in-jokes (Loverboy)...I could go on.
He used guitars like Mozart used woodwinds. He had vocal technique either obtained through lessons or through an almost statistically unlikely natural talent for singing effectively.
Really. Love. Queen.
Saturday, July 30, 2005
Friday, July 29, 2005
The News, the Subtle Version
Look closely at yon picture. Perhaps you can figure out what it is. I'd link it to the real Google map, but, uh, I may not be able to take that much time here just at the moment.
Anyone know a good moving company? Mkae, any good reports on the guys you used?
We're going to be quite busy in the near future. I feel tired already.
Anyone know a good moving company? Mkae, any good reports on the guys you used?
We're going to be quite busy in the near future. I feel tired already.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
A Random Assortment
Think of this as one of those boxes of chocolate candies where you don't know what's inside them until you pop it in your mouth.
First, if you are interested in the structure of the web and are anything of a digithead, you may find fascinating this article about the birth of Google.
Second, I have now found a few people who don't think that I look exactly the same after three months of pregnancy as I did before. This has saved you all from a long post about how fat you all thought I looked before I was pregnant. I can hear the collective sighs of relief out there.
Third, I need to know how Dr. H moved his big-ass TV. If you have a moment, please leave a comment. We may be moving it soon and I had a terrible dream last night that it was shattered on the other end.
Fourth,and finally, the mister and I watched Closer last night. I had to wonder how much my experience of that movie was changed because I recognized the music from Mozart's Cosi fan tutte (sorry, can't be bothered to find the accented i for Cosi) and know the plot of the opera. I honestly don't think the movie makes as much sense if you don't have that information. I can't decide if that movie is horribly sexist or not.
A late entry: Fifth, and finally, the most satisfying moment of my day consisted of saying the word ipconfig. It was an odd moment, but it fundamentally changed the way another person was interacting with me for the better. Always good to be able to convince someone they can just ask you to do something rather than having to explain it to death. It made the rest of the conversation soooo much easier. Easier is good.
First, if you are interested in the structure of the web and are anything of a digithead, you may find fascinating this article about the birth of Google.
Second, I have now found a few people who don't think that I look exactly the same after three months of pregnancy as I did before. This has saved you all from a long post about how fat you all thought I looked before I was pregnant. I can hear the collective sighs of relief out there.
Third, I need to know how Dr. H moved his big-ass TV. If you have a moment, please leave a comment. We may be moving it soon and I had a terrible dream last night that it was shattered on the other end.
Fourth,
A late entry: Fifth, and finally, the most satisfying moment of my day consisted of saying the word ipconfig. It was an odd moment, but it fundamentally changed the way another person was interacting with me for the better. Always good to be able to convince someone they can just ask you to do something rather than having to explain it to death. It made the rest of the conversation soooo much easier. Easier is good.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
To the Asshole Who Nearly Hit Me Five Minutes Ago
First, check your effing blind spot, moron.
Second, when a honk comes from that area where you were so sure there was no car, you should cancel your lane change.
Third, when the car you are desperately trying to hit has to slam on their brakes with a tractor trailer behind her as you make your lane change anyway, despite the fact that she's honked her horn to alert you to her presence, you should acknowledge how much of a fucking moron you are by doing the bullshit "I'm sorry" wave. You had an entire red light to take care of it, prick.
Fourth, if you are not turning right at the next intersection, you do not have to make that lane change so quickly anyway. Learn how to take time to make sure you're not about to kill someone.
Fifth, I hope something really bad happens to you today. Maybe your wife will tell you about the affair she's having with the lawn guy.
I take this shit much more personally now that there are two of us in the car.
Second, when a honk comes from that area where you were so sure there was no car, you should cancel your lane change.
Third, when the car you are desperately trying to hit has to slam on their brakes with a tractor trailer behind her as you make your lane change anyway, despite the fact that she's honked her horn to alert you to her presence, you should acknowledge how much of a fucking moron you are by doing the bullshit "I'm sorry" wave. You had an entire red light to take care of it, prick.
Fourth, if you are not turning right at the next intersection, you do not have to make that lane change so quickly anyway. Learn how to take time to make sure you're not about to kill someone.
Fifth, I hope something really bad happens to you today. Maybe your wife will tell you about the affair she's having with the lawn guy.
I take this shit much more personally now that there are two of us in the car.
Monday, July 25, 2005
This Post Censored
Everything I could write about today, I can't really afford to say. In short, I am #3 and #13 because I fucked up on #5.
Well, that's only half true. Many of the people involved in my multi-topic rant don't know about my blog. However, it isn't exactly impossible to find and who wants to chance it?
I wrote the whole post in my head. I thought it was funny. Oh well, sorry. In place of today's post, I bring you the following random link from Fark.
Well, that's only half true. Many of the people involved in my multi-topic rant don't know about my blog. However, it isn't exactly impossible to find and who wants to chance it?
I wrote the whole post in my head. I thought it was funny. Oh well, sorry. In place of today's post, I bring you the following random link from Fark.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Just One Favor
Could someone turn me in for What Not To Wear or something like that, so I can get more maternity clothes? Obviously, you'll have to impress upon them the need to do this right away, as I won't be pregnant anymore by the end of the year.
If I don't find another pair of pants I can wear for the next month or so, until I really start getting bigger, I may scream.
"Which pants shall I wear today? The tan ones, or the black ones? Or the--wait, that's pretty much it."
If I don't find another pair of pants I can wear for the next month or so, until I really start getting bigger, I may scream.
"Which pants shall I wear today? The tan ones, or the black ones? Or the--wait, that's pretty much it."
Friday, July 22, 2005
For Your Time-Wasting Pleasure
Through a series of links starting with my /. feed this morning, I found the wonderful entry at Wikipedia, Internet Phenomenon.
Ah, the memories. And many I've never seen myself. This will help me pass the weekend, I'll tell you.
You know, that and the cleaning. There must be large quantities of cleaning this weekend. Oh yes, there will. (sigh)
Ah, the memories. And many I've never seen myself. This will help me pass the weekend, I'll tell you.
You know, that and the cleaning. There must be large quantities of cleaning this weekend. Oh yes, there will. (sigh)
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Unless You're One of Those Crazies...
...who think we never went to the moon, you might enjoy this.
Make sure you zoom all the way in though. Get a really good look. It's pretty cool.
Make sure you zoom all the way in though. Get a really good look. It's pretty cool.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Signora Yona
The Constitution gives every American the inalienable right to make a damn fool of himself.
- John Ciardi
Don't you think of the oddest things at the oddest times, like me?
I got the Ciardi quote above as my quote of the day on my Google News page. It reminded me of the translation of The Inferno that I read while I was in college while I was taking Italian. The course was taught by a lovely, quirky, must-have-been-over-90 woman from Sicilia.
She was great. She would interrupt the class to tell us stories ("Do you know how de Mafia start? Would you like to know it? I tell you...") but somehow we all learned enough Italian to justify a two semester course. I think we studied a little harder so she'd have more time to tell stories.
She had great, wizened, knarled fingers, and you were never sure who she was pointing at when she asked questions. She was bad with names, so sometimes you'd just shout out the answer so we could move on and get to the stories. She was opinionated and brash, often funny, occasionally maddening, like when she forced my two friends to say they were "nello stato del New York" to answer "Where are you from?", because if they just said "New York", she assumed they meant the city and not the state, and she wouldn't budge on that one. The day she asked me where I was from and I answered (with more Italian than this, but it's been more than ten years now and I can't recall the exact syntax and vocabulary) "Virginia", she asked me, "Where is it, this Virginia?" I had to draw it for her on a piece of paper. Allow me to refer you to the name of this blog. That's the blind leading the blind.
The Signora invited us to her house for dinner in the second semester. It was amazing. She made dishes from every area of Italy, and told us their traditional backgrounds as we ate. The food was great, she got a little drunk on the wine we all brought with us as hostess gifts, and she almost cried when my group of five who caught a ride with the one master's student in the course who had a car brought her flowers as well.
Anyway, back to Ciardi. I was re-reading The Inferno, and I brought my copy with me to class one day to ask her a question about it afterwards. She saw it on my stack of books and spat out, "Ciardi! No, no. Do not read this. This translation is no good. I will translate for you before I let you read Ciardi."
I almost threw the book in the trash right then, just to please her. I stuck it in my bag and promised her I would buy a different translation. Never got around to asking my question. I still have that same copy of the Ciardi version. I wish I'd gotten her to sign it or something. And I wish I had a picture of her, that look of disgust and conviction on her face.
She's surely not with us anymore. She must have been, like I said, in her mid-nineties when she taught me.
Io li manco, Signora.
- John Ciardi
Don't you think of the oddest things at the oddest times, like me?
I got the Ciardi quote above as my quote of the day on my Google News page. It reminded me of the translation of The Inferno that I read while I was in college while I was taking Italian. The course was taught by a lovely, quirky, must-have-been-over-90 woman from Sicilia.
She was great. She would interrupt the class to tell us stories ("Do you know how de Mafia start? Would you like to know it? I tell you...") but somehow we all learned enough Italian to justify a two semester course. I think we studied a little harder so she'd have more time to tell stories.
She had great, wizened, knarled fingers, and you were never sure who she was pointing at when she asked questions. She was bad with names, so sometimes you'd just shout out the answer so we could move on and get to the stories. She was opinionated and brash, often funny, occasionally maddening, like when she forced my two friends to say they were "nello stato del New York" to answer "Where are you from?", because if they just said "New York", she assumed they meant the city and not the state, and she wouldn't budge on that one. The day she asked me where I was from and I answered (with more Italian than this, but it's been more than ten years now and I can't recall the exact syntax and vocabulary) "Virginia", she asked me, "Where is it, this Virginia?" I had to draw it for her on a piece of paper. Allow me to refer you to the name of this blog. That's the blind leading the blind.
The Signora invited us to her house for dinner in the second semester. It was amazing. She made dishes from every area of Italy, and told us their traditional backgrounds as we ate. The food was great, she got a little drunk on the wine we all brought with us as hostess gifts, and she almost cried when my group of five who caught a ride with the one master's student in the course who had a car brought her flowers as well.
Anyway, back to Ciardi. I was re-reading The Inferno, and I brought my copy with me to class one day to ask her a question about it afterwards. She saw it on my stack of books and spat out, "Ciardi! No, no. Do not read this. This translation is no good. I will translate for you before I let you read Ciardi."
I almost threw the book in the trash right then, just to please her. I stuck it in my bag and promised her I would buy a different translation. Never got around to asking my question. I still have that same copy of the Ciardi version. I wish I'd gotten her to sign it or something. And I wish I had a picture of her, that look of disgust and conviction on her face.
She's surely not with us anymore. She must have been, like I said, in her mid-nineties when she taught me.
Io li manco, Signora.
Monday, July 18, 2005
Shouldn't Really Say This Yet...
...but thank you, those of you who took a moment to send us good thoughts when I asked for it a week ago.
It just may have done the trick.
More news as it happens.
It just may have done the trick.
More news as it happens.
Saturday, July 16, 2005
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (no spoilers)
No spoilers here. Just a reading update.
I picked up the book at 12:05 a.m., was home by 12:15. I planned to stay up until 1:00 or 2:00 at the latest.
At 2 in the morning, I did some quick math in my head and realized I was knocking out about 120 pages an hour. Some more quick math told me that I would probably finish the book around 5:00 a.m. if I decided to.
At that point, when I weighed how tired I was against how much I wanted to keep reading, I actually didn't feel that tired. Certainly, had I put the book down, I would merely have laid back against the pillow and spent the hours until 5 a.m. speculating on what was going to happen rather than just reading the silly thing and finding out what does happen.
Once I got within a hundred and fifty pages or so, I pretty much had to just hang on and read the end.
So, I finished it at 5:05 a.m. and was in bed trying to sleep by ten after. I thought for a bit that I would finish earlier, as my pace picked up a bit, but the book got a little denser near the end, as they pretty much all have so far. In the end, that put me on a 130 pages/hour pace, which isn't bad as I was actually reading and not skimming.
I said no spoilers, so I won't talk about any of it here. I'd wager most people don't give a fig what I personally think about it anyway.
Please no spoilers in the comments, if any. The entry is marked as spoiler free and I therefore don't want anyone spoiled because of it.
Friday, July 15, 2005
A Quick Left Turn
I was going to write a rant about the corruption rampant in today's politics. I read an article yesterday about how the remaining Enron executives just voted themselves upwards of 1000% pay raises. I thought the place was bankrupt, but I suppose it isn't quite yet. Sorry about all those pension funds, employees! And sorry about that whole rolling blackout stuff in California a few years back! Ha ha! Good thing the government doesn't seem to care about all the clearly illegal things you've done, and are still doing! I'm sure it doesn't have anything to do with campaign contributions.
Then I heard on the news this morning that the Guvanah of Culliforna has been taking money from companies that manufacture performance-enhancing suppliments under an assumed name at the same time that he vetoed legislation to ban such supplements from high school sports programs.
This entry was going to be about my fervent wish that all elected officials were anonymous, known only by numbers during campaigning and their terms, if elected. You would have to vote for them only going by a list of where they stood on the issues, and they would have no "influence" to use to garner favors and it would thusly be more difficult to become corrupted by power and greed. Think of all the time this would free up during the news, when we wouldn't be talking about scandals and whatnot. They could actually report on who voted which way on which issues, and we could check up on old Virginia04340 or US49598 (your congressperson and president, respectively) to make sure they were voting along the platform they promised when we elected them.
I won't bother to flesh this fully out now, because, like I said, that's not what this entry is about anymore.
(Yes, fewer people would vote because it would require actual reading and thought, but those votes would be more motivated and better informed, and we'd be better off all around.)
Instead, I bring you the opportunity to read about Corned Beef Salad Loaf.
You can thank me later.
Then I heard on the news this morning that the Guvanah of Culliforna has been taking money from companies that manufacture performance-enhancing suppliments under an assumed name at the same time that he vetoed legislation to ban such supplements from high school sports programs.
This entry was going to be about my fervent wish that all elected officials were anonymous, known only by numbers during campaigning and their terms, if elected. You would have to vote for them only going by a list of where they stood on the issues, and they would have no "influence" to use to garner favors and it would thusly be more difficult to become corrupted by power and greed. Think of all the time this would free up during the news, when we wouldn't be talking about scandals and whatnot. They could actually report on who voted which way on which issues, and we could check up on old Virginia04340 or US49598 (your congressperson and president, respectively) to make sure they were voting along the platform they promised when we elected them.
I won't bother to flesh this fully out now, because, like I said, that's not what this entry is about anymore.
(Yes, fewer people would vote because it would require actual reading and thought, but those votes would be more motivated and better informed, and we'd be better off all around.)
Instead, I bring you the opportunity to read about Corned Beef Salad Loaf.
You can thank me later.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Kathy's Totally Biased List of Personal Emmy Winners
Just my picks, not what I think will happen. Go ahead and debate me, but deep down you know I'm right. (hee)
(Selected categories only. Mostly because, if a category contained mostly things I haven't seen, I didn't pick. My selections in bold. Anything I consider an honorable mention in italics.)
Outstanding Casting (Comedy)
Arrested Development
Desperate Housewives
Entourage
Scrubs
Will & Grace
(my head says Housewives, my heart says Entourage)
Outstanding Casting (Drama)
Deadwood
Grey's Anatomy
House
Lost
Nip/Tuck
24
Outstanding Commercial
Applause (Budwiser)
Drink Up (Aquafina)
Glen (Starbucks)
The One Campaign
Surprise Dinner (Ameriquest)
Lead Actress (Drama)
Marcia Cross (Desperate Housewives)
Teri Hatcher (DH)
Felicity Huffman (DH)
Patricia Heaton (Raymond)
Jane Kaczmarek (Malcolm in the Middle)
Supporting Actor (Comedy)
Jeffrey Tambor (Arrested Development)
Jeremy Piven (Entourage)
Peter Boyle (Raymond)
Brad Garrett (Raymond)
Sean Hayes (Will & Grace)
Supporting Actor (Drama)
William Shatner (Boston Legal)
Oliver Platt (Huff)
Naveen Andrews (Lost)
Terry O'Quinn (Lost)
Alan Alda (West Wing)
Individual Performance (Variety/Music Program)
Jon Stewart (Daily Show)
Jay Leno (Tonight Show)
Hugh Jackman (Tony Awards)
Tracey Ullman (HBO Special)
Whoopi Goldberg (HBO Special)
Outstanding Comedy Series
Arrested Development
Desperate Housewives
Everybody('s Tired of) Loves Raymond
Scrubs
Will & Grace
Outstanding Drama Series
Deadwood
Lost
Six Feet Under
24
The West Wing
Outstanding Variety, Music, or Comedy Series
Da Ali G Show
The Daily Show
Late Night with Conan O' Brian
Late Show with David Letterman
Real Time with Bill Maher
Outstanding Reality Program
Antiques Roadshow
Extreme Makeover
Penn & Teller: Bullshit!
Project Greenlight
Queer Eye for the Straight Guy
Outstanding Writing (Drama)
House
Lost (Pilot)
Lost (Walkabout)
Rescue Me
The Wire
(Selected categories only. Mostly because, if a category contained mostly things I haven't seen, I didn't pick. My selections in bold. Anything I consider an honorable mention in italics.)
Outstanding Casting (Comedy)
Arrested Development
Desperate Housewives
Entourage
Scrubs
Will & Grace
(my head says Housewives, my heart says Entourage)
Outstanding Casting (Drama)
Deadwood
Grey's Anatomy
House
Lost
Nip/Tuck
24
Outstanding Commercial
Applause (Budwiser)
Drink Up (Aquafina)
Glen (Starbucks)
The One Campaign
Surprise Dinner (Ameriquest)
Lead Actress (Drama)
Marcia Cross (Desperate Housewives)
Teri Hatcher (DH)
Felicity Huffman (DH)
Patricia Heaton (Raymond)
Jane Kaczmarek (Malcolm in the Middle)
Supporting Actor (Comedy)
Jeffrey Tambor (Arrested Development)
Jeremy Piven (Entourage)
Peter Boyle (Raymond)
Brad Garrett (Raymond)
Sean Hayes (Will & Grace)
Supporting Actor (Drama)
William Shatner (Boston Legal)
Oliver Platt (Huff)
Naveen Andrews (Lost)
Terry O'Quinn (Lost)
Alan Alda (West Wing)
Individual Performance (Variety/Music Program)
Jon Stewart (Daily Show)
Jay Leno (Tonight Show)
Hugh Jackman (Tony Awards)
Tracey Ullman (HBO Special)
Whoopi Goldberg (HBO Special)
Outstanding Comedy Series
Arrested Development
Desperate Housewives
Everybody(
Scrubs
Will & Grace
Outstanding Drama Series
Deadwood
Lost
Six Feet Under
24
The West Wing
Outstanding Variety, Music, or Comedy Series
Da Ali G Show
The Daily Show
Late Night with Conan O' Brian
Late Show with David Letterman
Real Time with Bill Maher
Outstanding Reality Program
Antiques Roadshow
Extreme Makeover
Penn & Teller: Bullshit!
Project Greenlight
Queer Eye for the Straight Guy
Outstanding Writing (Drama)
House
Lost (Pilot)
Lost (Walkabout)
Rescue Me
The Wire
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Roadside Attractions
So, I've been watching Jeopardy lately, when I'm not napping when it's time for it to come on.
There's a champion who's been on for seven days now. I've come to the conclusion that he's pretty good with the Jeopardy-type knowledge, but he's a sissy.
And no one likes a sissy.
His first pick in the second round tonight was a rather incongruous $1600 in the Roadside Attractions category. None of the answers in that category had been selected yet. (It's like fingernails on a blackboard to me when someone jumps in the middle instead of starting at the top or going straight to the bottom if they need the money boost, but I acknowledge that's a quirk and many people wouldn't feel that way.)
He didn't even appear to ring for that question. When he got control of the board back, he asked for the $1200 clue in that category. He didn't answer that one either.
I also acknowledge that he may have tried to ring in and was beaten to it, but he was doing a pretty good job with the buzzer otherwise, and I didn't see his shoulders move. I was only watching because I thought if someone is cocky enough to jump in on the category in the middle, you'd have to think he felt confident enough to jump the gun and ring in early.
Later in the round, after the other answers in that category had been ignored for awhile, the champion picked the $400 clue in Roadside Attractions. It was a Daily Double. He had a $10000 lead.
Okay, so you're the guy who was cocky enough to zero in on the third and fourth most expensive clues in that category at the beginning, you'd think he'd jump at the chance to make a nice, fat, juicy wager on the second easiest answer.
"Come on. $5000!" I said.
"Uh, $400?" he said.
Pussy.
And he got it right, too! Not that you could really tell the difference.
$400. Peh.
There's a champion who's been on for seven days now. I've come to the conclusion that he's pretty good with the Jeopardy-type knowledge, but he's a sissy.
And no one likes a sissy.
His first pick in the second round tonight was a rather incongruous $1600 in the Roadside Attractions category. None of the answers in that category had been selected yet. (It's like fingernails on a blackboard to me when someone jumps in the middle instead of starting at the top or going straight to the bottom if they need the money boost, but I acknowledge that's a quirk and many people wouldn't feel that way.)
He didn't even appear to ring for that question. When he got control of the board back, he asked for the $1200 clue in that category. He didn't answer that one either.
I also acknowledge that he may have tried to ring in and was beaten to it, but he was doing a pretty good job with the buzzer otherwise, and I didn't see his shoulders move. I was only watching because I thought if someone is cocky enough to jump in on the category in the middle, you'd have to think he felt confident enough to jump the gun and ring in early.
Later in the round, after the other answers in that category had been ignored for awhile, the champion picked the $400 clue in Roadside Attractions. It was a Daily Double. He had a $10000 lead.
Okay, so you're the guy who was cocky enough to zero in on the third and fourth most expensive clues in that category at the beginning, you'd think he'd jump at the chance to make a nice, fat, juicy wager on the second easiest answer.
"Come on. $5000!" I said.
"Uh, $400?" he said.
Pussy.
And he got it right, too! Not that you could really tell the difference.
$400. Peh.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Your SaG Tour Update
GRENOBLE, France, July 12 (Reuters) - Tuesday's 1Oth stage of the Tour de France started about 40 minutes late in the Alps after angry cattle farmers protested about attacks by wolves.
The stage was also shortened from 192.5km to 181km after the farmers made their protest in Grenoble, where the start was initially scheduled.
The riders then moved on and the start was given 11.5 km further away.
The farmers were protesting against recent wolf attacks against sheep and cattle.
~~~~
In related news, Alexandre Vinokourov, Ivan Basso, and Jan Ullrich plan to stage a protest before the end of the tour, in reference to attacks by Team Discovery.
(snicker)
Um, well, it's sort of funny if you're a cyclist.
Monday, July 11, 2005
Frozen in Time
In our hallway, just outside the doorway to the master bedroom, is a goofy little collage I did of pictures from the first race where I ever won any money.
(For the record, a time trial where I recorded the third fastest women's time overall, and first for my category. I was beaten only by a professional mountain biker and a professional triathlete/personal trainer. I used to be really fast. Perhaps I'll do it again someday.)
I had the second start time, behind the previous year's winner. There was no pre-registration, and my carpool of people got there really early and were the first to register. Behind me was a group of guys from my team competing in the five-man category.
Several of the pictures in the collage are of us in the staging area and at the start line. They make me incredibly wistful. Directly behind me is a good friend of mine, also my former boss. I'd love to say it wasn't true, but my stint of working there changed our friendship in a less than good way. There aren't hard feelings (not on my end, and I don't think on his end either) but it has changed nonetheless. Being around there, I learned a bunch of things about several people I wouldn't have known if hadn't worked there--idiosyncracies that make you see them in a new way that isn't entirely positive. Not terrible, unforgiveable things...just, maybe things you don't need to know about your friends.
Behind him is a guy who used to be the captain of our team, who now works for a competing shop and is on their race team. It was odd, to leave that way, and it's really quite uncomfortable. I hear he still comes on the store rides (they're open to all) and tries to stir things up. Sad, really.
Behind him, someone in the service who was stationed elsewhere before we really got a chance to know him very well. He had just started to loosen up and we got to know the guy behind the sort of nervous, self-conscious guy who was trying too hard to fit in.
Next, another man in the service who was stationed overseas later that summer. I heard from him a few times when I worked at the shop, but once we leave this area, I betcha I'll never talk to him again. Shame...he's a hell of a nice guy. His wife is really great too. I do miss riding with them, and talking with them about politics. It's a subject we didn't agree on, but you could actually disagree with them and still have an enlightening, constructive conversation.
The last guy on the team is yet another person who's moved away. One of our closest friends in the riding group, and a big loss to us when he felt that he had to move to be closer to family and to do the right thing for his kids. Another person I can disagree with and still have a good conversation, which I find to be a rare commodity.
We're all smiling ear to ear in those pictures, despite the cold of the morning that day, and the fact that we were about to leave on a 40 kilometer (about 25 miles) trip of complete agony. It was my second time trial and I knew the pain that was coming, but I had my boys behind me and I could hear them cheering for me until I went around the first gentle bend in the road. When they passed me (which was inevitable, there were five of them and they're each individually faster than I am) they encouraged me again, telling me it had taken forever to chase me down and that I was going to do well if I could keep up the pace. I saw them one more time, when they'd bounced back on the course from the turnaround point and I was still approaching it. Even though they were going full out, they all yelled out to me.
That was a great day. I remember the pancakes that G went to get us, and the over-ripened banana that I had to choke down to get enough energy to set myself up for a good race. I remember joking that time was standing still because I was on the trainer warming up, and I remember the big "arm warmers or no arm warmers" debate.
More than that, I remember drifting in to find them all waiting for me in our warm-up area, and then the six of us lining up for a picture. I made sure we all got a copy of it. There's a copy of it up in the bike store. When we go to St. Louis, J will be the last one left here from that partial team picture.
But every time I see the collage, we're all happy and smiling and together, about to have a good race. And we always will be.
(For the record, a time trial where I recorded the third fastest women's time overall, and first for my category. I was beaten only by a professional mountain biker and a professional triathlete/personal trainer. I used to be really fast. Perhaps I'll do it again someday.)
I had the second start time, behind the previous year's winner. There was no pre-registration, and my carpool of people got there really early and were the first to register. Behind me was a group of guys from my team competing in the five-man category.
Several of the pictures in the collage are of us in the staging area and at the start line. They make me incredibly wistful. Directly behind me is a good friend of mine, also my former boss. I'd love to say it wasn't true, but my stint of working there changed our friendship in a less than good way. There aren't hard feelings (not on my end, and I don't think on his end either) but it has changed nonetheless. Being around there, I learned a bunch of things about several people I wouldn't have known if hadn't worked there--idiosyncracies that make you see them in a new way that isn't entirely positive. Not terrible, unforgiveable things...just, maybe things you don't need to know about your friends.
Behind him is a guy who used to be the captain of our team, who now works for a competing shop and is on their race team. It was odd, to leave that way, and it's really quite uncomfortable. I hear he still comes on the store rides (they're open to all) and tries to stir things up. Sad, really.
Behind him, someone in the service who was stationed elsewhere before we really got a chance to know him very well. He had just started to loosen up and we got to know the guy behind the sort of nervous, self-conscious guy who was trying too hard to fit in.
Next, another man in the service who was stationed overseas later that summer. I heard from him a few times when I worked at the shop, but once we leave this area, I betcha I'll never talk to him again. Shame...he's a hell of a nice guy. His wife is really great too. I do miss riding with them, and talking with them about politics. It's a subject we didn't agree on, but you could actually disagree with them and still have an enlightening, constructive conversation.
The last guy on the team is yet another person who's moved away. One of our closest friends in the riding group, and a big loss to us when he felt that he had to move to be closer to family and to do the right thing for his kids. Another person I can disagree with and still have a good conversation, which I find to be a rare commodity.
We're all smiling ear to ear in those pictures, despite the cold of the morning that day, and the fact that we were about to leave on a 40 kilometer (about 25 miles) trip of complete agony. It was my second time trial and I knew the pain that was coming, but I had my boys behind me and I could hear them cheering for me until I went around the first gentle bend in the road. When they passed me (which was inevitable, there were five of them and they're each individually faster than I am) they encouraged me again, telling me it had taken forever to chase me down and that I was going to do well if I could keep up the pace. I saw them one more time, when they'd bounced back on the course from the turnaround point and I was still approaching it. Even though they were going full out, they all yelled out to me.
That was a great day. I remember the pancakes that G went to get us, and the over-ripened banana that I had to choke down to get enough energy to set myself up for a good race. I remember joking that time was standing still because I was on the trainer warming up, and I remember the big "arm warmers or no arm warmers" debate.
More than that, I remember drifting in to find them all waiting for me in our warm-up area, and then the six of us lining up for a picture. I made sure we all got a copy of it. There's a copy of it up in the bike store. When we go to St. Louis, J will be the last one left here from that partial team picture.
But every time I see the collage, we're all happy and smiling and together, about to have a good race. And we always will be.
A Humble Request
If you are reading this before early afternoon, eastern standard time, on June July 11, 2005, please send some good thoughts our way. In fact, I have no proof that these things don't work retroactively...so if you miss that deadline by a bit, I wouldn't kick you for doing it anyway.
Not good luck, exactly. Luck implies that there is no skill present or needed in order to obtain the wanted objective, and that isn't the case. If you could just send us "good break mojo" or generic support, that would be ideal. You don't even have to leave a comment. Just a little moment of thought will do the trick.
I know this is a little metaphysical, but I do believe there is sort of an ebb and flow of these sort of positive thoughts. I utilize this concept often while watching sporting events or live performances of other kinds, and I'm usually only 3/4 joking. I would be more than happy to ebb and/or flow some back atcha in return.
Update: Things going pretty well so far. Keep the happy thoughts coming.
Not good luck, exactly. Luck implies that there is no skill present or needed in order to obtain the wanted objective, and that isn't the case. If you could just send us "good break mojo" or generic support, that would be ideal. You don't even have to leave a comment. Just a little moment of thought will do the trick.
I know this is a little metaphysical, but I do believe there is sort of an ebb and flow of these sort of positive thoughts. I utilize this concept often while watching sporting events or live performances of other kinds, and I'm usually only 3/4 joking. I would be more than happy to ebb and/or flow some back atcha in return.
Update: Things going pretty well so far. Keep the happy thoughts coming.
Friday, July 08, 2005
Strange Dreams
I have been having some odd dreams. I woke up from two of them thinking, "There's no way I'll forget that."
I, of course, only retained one of them into full consciousness. I think it was easier to retain because it had some elements to it that are either from recurring dreams of mine or that I may have cribbed from television and movies. Here it is:
I was walking into the main building at my college. It didn't look like it really does, of course. It looked more like a large, ritzy, Las Vegas-style hotel, with big open atriums and glass elevators. I was calm when I first walked in, but then I realized I was about to be late for French and I couldn't remember what classroom it was in. (I have this dream several times a year. Always about college, always about French class, and I can never remember where the classroom is.)
Honestly, how many classes to you have to skip before you can't even remember where the room is?
I was about to go to the office to ask for a copy of my schedule, but I decided to look for it myself. I walked up the stairs to the third floor and stuck my head in a classroom I thought might be it. It wasn't, but there was a ruckus going on inside, so I decided to stay. A friend of mine was there (no one I actually know, but in the dream, they were a good friend of mine) and I didn't want to leave them there to deal with it alone.
I soon saw that two birds had gotten in the classroom and were flying around. (This, I must have taken from a recent episode of Six Feet Under.) I shut the door to the classroom behind me and someone else was opening the window.
Someone else began to shoo the birds to the window, but then another person shouted that they had a flare gun. (Why a flare gun at a college class, I dunno.) He also said that he only had one shot (Lost). Before anyone could stop him, he shot off the flare gun.
Well, he scared the birds, all right. One at a time, they both took off for the window, then missed. When they hit the wall, they exploded into a mass of feathers and gruesome bird bits. My friend looked over the carnage and gave me a look that conveyed quite succinctly that she believed the flare gun guy was an idiot.
My work there done, I left to continue to look for my French classroom. I tried to take the elevator (no elevators at the real school, a disability lawsuit waiting to happen) but found it only went to floors 1-3. (The real school only has three floors.) I was sure my class wasn't there, so I kept walking.
I walked for a bit before I suddenly remembered that the class was in room 238! I doubled back to get the elevator for floors 1-3, but couldn't find it. I found another one, tucked away in a corner, and got onto it with two annoying, giggling girls. The glass elevator began to move, not just moving up and down, but side to side. (Willy Wonka?) It landed on the main floor and I was really angry that it didn't leave me on the second floor. I was sure it was the giggling girls' fault.
From there, the dream segued to something else that I can't remember now. The other weird dream that I thought I'd never forget is now lost forever. Given the goofiness of the one I did remember, I can't imagine this is much of a loss.
Late addition: Because I know I try to interpret dreams when someone else posts them, I thought I'd save you all the trouble:
To dream of dead or dying birds, foretells a period of coming disappointments. You will find yourself worrying over problems that are constantly on your mind.
To dream that you are lost, suggests that you may be trying to adjust and get accustomed to a new situation in which the rules and conditions are ever changing.
A dream that takes place in school may be a metaphor for the lessons that you are learning from your waking life.
To dream that the elevator is out of order or that it is not letting you off, symbolizes that your emotions have gotten out of control.
To see windows in your dream, signifies bright hopes, vast possibilities and insight.
To see a girl in your dream, represents your playful, innocent, and childlike nature. (Interesting, the girls in my dream annoyed me.)
I, of course, only retained one of them into full consciousness. I think it was easier to retain because it had some elements to it that are either from recurring dreams of mine or that I may have cribbed from television and movies. Here it is:
I was walking into the main building at my college. It didn't look like it really does, of course. It looked more like a large, ritzy, Las Vegas-style hotel, with big open atriums and glass elevators. I was calm when I first walked in, but then I realized I was about to be late for French and I couldn't remember what classroom it was in. (I have this dream several times a year. Always about college, always about French class, and I can never remember where the classroom is.)
Honestly, how many classes to you have to skip before you can't even remember where the room is?
I was about to go to the office to ask for a copy of my schedule, but I decided to look for it myself. I walked up the stairs to the third floor and stuck my head in a classroom I thought might be it. It wasn't, but there was a ruckus going on inside, so I decided to stay. A friend of mine was there (no one I actually know, but in the dream, they were a good friend of mine) and I didn't want to leave them there to deal with it alone.
I soon saw that two birds had gotten in the classroom and were flying around. (This, I must have taken from a recent episode of Six Feet Under.) I shut the door to the classroom behind me and someone else was opening the window.
Someone else began to shoo the birds to the window, but then another person shouted that they had a flare gun. (Why a flare gun at a college class, I dunno.) He also said that he only had one shot (Lost). Before anyone could stop him, he shot off the flare gun.
Well, he scared the birds, all right. One at a time, they both took off for the window, then missed. When they hit the wall, they exploded into a mass of feathers and gruesome bird bits. My friend looked over the carnage and gave me a look that conveyed quite succinctly that she believed the flare gun guy was an idiot.
My work there done, I left to continue to look for my French classroom. I tried to take the elevator (no elevators at the real school, a disability lawsuit waiting to happen) but found it only went to floors 1-3. (The real school only has three floors.) I was sure my class wasn't there, so I kept walking.
I walked for a bit before I suddenly remembered that the class was in room 238! I doubled back to get the elevator for floors 1-3, but couldn't find it. I found another one, tucked away in a corner, and got onto it with two annoying, giggling girls. The glass elevator began to move, not just moving up and down, but side to side. (Willy Wonka?) It landed on the main floor and I was really angry that it didn't leave me on the second floor. I was sure it was the giggling girls' fault.
From there, the dream segued to something else that I can't remember now. The other weird dream that I thought I'd never forget is now lost forever. Given the goofiness of the one I did remember, I can't imagine this is much of a loss.
Late addition: Because I know I try to interpret dreams when someone else posts them, I thought I'd save you all the trouble:
To dream of dead or dying birds, foretells a period of coming disappointments. You will find yourself worrying over problems that are constantly on your mind.
To dream that you are lost, suggests that you may be trying to adjust and get accustomed to a new situation in which the rules and conditions are ever changing.
A dream that takes place in school may be a metaphor for the lessons that you are learning from your waking life.
To dream that the elevator is out of order or that it is not letting you off, symbolizes that your emotions have gotten out of control.
To see windows in your dream, signifies bright hopes, vast possibilities and insight.
To see a girl in your dream, represents your playful, innocent, and childlike nature. (Interesting, the girls in my dream annoyed me.)
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Take That, Ecclestone
Scott Ostler's my new hero.
"...women athletes are like domestic appliances. They come in many colors and sizes, the new models perform tasks that were thought to be impossible a few years ago and some men still don't know how to handle 'em."
(I know most of you already saw this on Fark, but I just liked this too much to pass on it.)
"...women athletes are like domestic appliances. They come in many colors and sizes, the new models perform tasks that were thought to be impossible a few years ago and some men still don't know how to handle 'em."
(I know most of you already saw this on Fark, but I just liked this too much to pass on it.)
London
Can you imagine being trapped underground after a bomb blast, wondering if you'll make it out or if you'll just suffocate?
I'm a little uneasy myself in underground tunnels. Maybe it's a by-product from my years of driving through the Hampton Roads Bridge Tunnel, where I never really felt quite right until I could see the sky again.
I cribbed this from BBC News. If you're wondering at all what it must have been like to be on one of those trains, they have a series of interesting articles on their site today.
I'm a little uneasy myself in underground tunnels. Maybe it's a by-product from my years of driving through the Hampton Roads Bridge Tunnel, where I never really felt quite right until I could see the sky again.
I cribbed this from BBC News. If you're wondering at all what it must have been like to be on one of those trains, they have a series of interesting articles on their site today.
It was about three minutes after we left King's Cross, when there was a massive bang and there was smoke and glass everywhere - I was standing near a window, and I've still got some in my hair.
The lights went out, and with the smoke, we couldn't breathe, and we sort of cushioned each other during the impact because the compartment was so full.
It felt like a dream, it was surreal.
It was just horrendous, it was like a disaster movie, you can't imagine being somewhere like that, you just want to get out. I kept closing my eyes and thinking of outside.
It was frightening because all the lights had gone out and we didn't hear anything from the driver, so we wondered how he was.
Overall I feel lucky, and my thoughts go out to the families of anyone who has died.
This is one of those days when I envy the people who are so sure that going after Iraq was the right thing to do. It must be nice to have that certainty, to never wonder if what we've done is make things worse instead of better. I just know that if we're being told we're only safe once the world is made over in our own flag-waving, ribbon-on-the-back-of-the-minivan, 'democratic' image, there's a long, hard, unpopular slog ahead--one that I have a sneaking suspicion isn't all that more moral than leaving everyone to their own devices is.
I had intended to largely leave politics out of the blog, but for cripes' sake. People are getting blown up. And not just in London. Betcha it's not very peaceful over near the Gaza Strip today or any other day, either.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Pregnancy Hormones
There's something about the teeming hormones that has turned me into a sap.
I have developed a pathetic attachment to that stupid credit card commercial with Five For Fighting's 100 Years. There's something about watching that goofy couple courting, then getting married, having a baby, then playing with the grandchildren that gets me. A year ago I would probably be writing an entry making fun of it, and now I get a little misty. Did I mention the word pathetic already? Yes, I see I have.
Also, I will pretty much watch the movie Love Actually whenever it comes on. Yes, it is quite funny in many places, but I watch it just as much for the heart-rending moments. A good example is when poor Karen (Emma Thompson) is in her bedroom listening to her new Joni Mitchell CD, realizing that it means her husband is cheating on her. She bends over as though someone has punched her in the stomach, and I know I would probably have the same physical reaction.
While I'm thinking about it, here are some of the best moments from Love Actually, since I'm watching it right now.
Billy Mack, after singing the wrong lyrics again: "Oh! Fuck wank bugger shitting arse head and hole!"
Karen: "There was more than one lobster present at the birth of Jesus?"
Natalie: Hello, David. I mean "sir". Shit, I can't believe I've just said that. Oh and now I've gone and said "shit" - twice. I'm so sorry, sir.
Prime Minister: It's fine, it's fine. You could've said "fuck", and then we'd have been in real trouble.
Natalie: Thank you, sir. I did have an awful premonition that I was going to fuck up the first day. Oh piss-it!
Sam: She doesn't even know my name. And even if she did, she'd despise me. She's the coolest girl in school and everyone worships her because she's heaven.
Daniel: Well, basically, you're fucked, aren't you?
The Prime Minister (Hugh Grant, who has many funny moments) dancing to the Pointer Sisters Jump and getting caught by a staffer.
Billy Mack: "So if you believe in Christmas, children, like your uncle Billy does, buy my festering turd of a record."
The piano music that plays when Juliet realizes the poor sap, Mark, is stupid in love with her despite the fact she's just married his best friend. Further, the way he paces around outside when he leaves, knowing exactly how fucked he is.
The Prime Minister going door-to-door looking for Natalie. He's begged by some random children to sing a carol, and he complies. He turns to silently goad his assistant (or whatever the guy is) into joining him. When the man starts singing, he does so in a reasonably impressive operatic tone, earning the most delightful confused look on the PM's face before he plows on, dutifully singing his song.
Mark's posterboard confession to Juliet, after which he decides that was enough and he can move on.
When the PM is discussing notable British contributions to the world, Harry Potter and David Beckham's left and right feet (separately) all make the list.
Billy Mack's manager, Joe: "Ten minutes at Elton John's and you're as gay as a maypole!"
Billy Bob Thornton as the Bill Clinton clone.
Joanna (Sam's dream girl) and her song at the end of the Christmas Pageant. Specifically, after she points at Sam and gets his hopes up, then he gets the world's crossest look ever after she points at about twenty more people after him.
Billy Mack in general, and his fight against the boy band, "Blue" for the #1 Christmas record. Bill Nighy is quite good really. If you've ever seen him in the B movie Underworld and in this, I would hope that you're as amazed as I am that he can completely transform himself into those two very different roles. I wish he'd get more work.
I have developed a pathetic attachment to that stupid credit card commercial with Five For Fighting's 100 Years. There's something about watching that goofy couple courting, then getting married, having a baby, then playing with the grandchildren that gets me. A year ago I would probably be writing an entry making fun of it, and now I get a little misty. Did I mention the word pathetic already? Yes, I see I have.
Also, I will pretty much watch the movie Love Actually whenever it comes on. Yes, it is quite funny in many places, but I watch it just as much for the heart-rending moments. A good example is when poor Karen (Emma Thompson) is in her bedroom listening to her new Joni Mitchell CD, realizing that it means her husband is cheating on her. She bends over as though someone has punched her in the stomach, and I know I would probably have the same physical reaction.
While I'm thinking about it, here are some of the best moments from Love Actually, since I'm watching it right now.
Billy Mack, after singing the wrong lyrics again: "Oh! Fuck wank bugger shitting arse head and hole!"
Karen: "There was more than one lobster present at the birth of Jesus?"
Natalie: Hello, David. I mean "sir". Shit, I can't believe I've just said that. Oh and now I've gone and said "shit" - twice. I'm so sorry, sir.
Prime Minister: It's fine, it's fine. You could've said "fuck", and then we'd have been in real trouble.
Natalie: Thank you, sir. I did have an awful premonition that I was going to fuck up the first day. Oh piss-it!
Sam: She doesn't even know my name. And even if she did, she'd despise me. She's the coolest girl in school and everyone worships her because she's heaven.
Daniel: Well, basically, you're fucked, aren't you?
The Prime Minister (Hugh Grant, who has many funny moments) dancing to the Pointer Sisters Jump and getting caught by a staffer.
Billy Mack: "So if you believe in Christmas, children, like your uncle Billy does, buy my festering turd of a record."
The piano music that plays when Juliet realizes the poor sap, Mark, is stupid in love with her despite the fact she's just married his best friend. Further, the way he paces around outside when he leaves, knowing exactly how fucked he is.
The Prime Minister going door-to-door looking for Natalie. He's begged by some random children to sing a carol, and he complies. He turns to silently goad his assistant (or whatever the guy is) into joining him. When the man starts singing, he does so in a reasonably impressive operatic tone, earning the most delightful confused look on the PM's face before he plows on, dutifully singing his song.
Mark's posterboard confession to Juliet, after which he decides that was enough and he can move on.
When the PM is discussing notable British contributions to the world, Harry Potter and David Beckham's left and right feet (separately) all make the list.
Billy Mack's manager, Joe: "Ten minutes at Elton John's and you're as gay as a maypole!"
Billy Bob Thornton as the Bill Clinton clone.
Joanna (Sam's dream girl) and her song at the end of the Christmas Pageant. Specifically, after she points at Sam and gets his hopes up, then he gets the world's crossest look ever after she points at about twenty more people after him.
Billy Mack in general, and his fight against the boy band, "Blue" for the #1 Christmas record. Bill Nighy is quite good really. If you've ever seen him in the B movie Underworld and in this, I would hope that you're as amazed as I am that he can completely transform himself into those two very different roles. I wish he'd get more work.
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