Disorder du Jour

So, the other day, in an attempt to help my friend Gilahi's muse, I went to Google, typed in the word "Odd" and clicked on "I'm Feeling Lucky." This is what I got: Oppositional Defiant Disorder (ODD).

I have no comment, because if I do comment, I'll piss off people with my opinions about disorders-du-jour and personal responsibility.

I also found this site, when I typed in "random" and clicked the aforementioned lucky link. I got this. Much better. Especially this linky-link.

Okay Then. Now What?

So, I've been in Europe now for a little over four months. I enjoy the organization where I'm working and the people with whom I work. It's a big organization and part of a larger body of organizations that are doing good in the world. Sometimes, though, I think because of the size of the organization certain procedures get lost and are egregiously after-the-fact. I'm not saying this makes the organization a bad place to work, but it certainly makes it amusing.

Case in point: when I arrived, I expected there might be some kind of new employee orientation program. It's possible that because I am here as a contractor such a function does not exist, since it would be silly or an inefficient use of time and resources to orientate a contractor who might only be here a few weeks or months.¹

So today, I get a group email from one of our support service offices telling me that as a new employee I can take advantage of training and support provided by the IT department. The email welcomes me to the organization and recommends that I take the new employee orientation program to learn how to use my email mailbox.²

It then goes on to describe³ the orientation class for new staff and says,

"Our orientation classes are a program made up of three progressive steps. The steps are designed to cover information and topics most useful to staff in their first few months at the organization. These courses are held on a regular basis. In the past, new staff have told us that they regretted not registering for these classes shortly after arriving at the organization.⁴ To learn more and to register, please click here."

So, I click on the link provided and end up on a page that says this:

Introduction Program for New Staff, Part I

FOR THE TIME BEING, THERE ARE NO PLANS TO HOLD ANY INTRODUCTORY SESSIONS IN VIEW OF THE TRAINING ROLLOUT FOR OUR FINANCIAL AND AUDITING SYSTEM. The primary goal of the introductory class is to provide new staff with an overview of the work and functions of the organization.


So much for not having any regrets.


1. Hell, I can't even get one of the official, non-disposable drinking glasses that are issued to staff, because I'm a contractor. Whatever. I'm resourceful. I've just snagged a logo-less one from the cafeteria. Voila!
2. I've been here since May. It's now nearly October! If I haven't figured that out by now, I'm screwed. Besides, it's Microsoft Outlook. What's to learn?!
3. Text has been edited to protect the innocent! That would be me.
4. For some reason, a less-than-glowing review is often seen as an endorsement of how good a program is and why you should sign up. I don't know if this is a European thing or what, but I see stuff like this all the time. Sort of a reverse-psychology kind of thing. As an American accustomed to being assaulted by all the reasons why I should buy into something, this is sort of an odd take.


Photo copyright: Photo S.A.

When Did Getting a Glass of Water Become So Difficult?!

Water in a wine glass / Paris, FR

Water.

Simple liquid. Covers 2/3 of the earth's surface area. Comprises 2/3 of our physiological make-up. Usually the main ingredient in juices, shampoos, perfumes, and various other liquidy things. In the States, when you go to a restaurant, it's generally the first thing they bring you before they take your drink, appetizer, entree, or dessert order.

Around here? Not so simple.

It isn't a given the minute you sit down at a restaurant. You have to ask for it. Then begins a catechism that makes the Holy Roman Catholic Church's version look benign in comparison.

Would you like that with ice or without?

Do you want gassy, natural, or tap?

Would you like French, Swiss or Italian?

Do you prefer water from the alps or water from the lake?

Would you like a glass, a bottle, or a carafe?

Do you want your own or will you share?

Would you like that now or later?

Do you believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen, and in His Son, Jesus Christ and in the Holy Spirit?

Oh, sorry. Bit distracted there...

My point is: Good God, folks! It's water! All I want is water! How hard can it be?

Hmph. Rant over.

In Which I Go to the Pharmacy in France to Pick Up My Prescription...

And Am Utterly Gobsmacked by the Price...

I don't know whether to write this as a story or as an open letter to President Obama. Knowing that he already believes we need universal health care, I doubt anything I'm about to say would make a difference or would move him any faster. Perhaps the people I need to be writing to are in Congress, but they're a bunch of useless, bickering schlubs, so I guess I'll just go with the story and hope that maybe, just maybe, we'll acheive univeral coverage for all Americans before the turn of the next century. One can dream, right?

One of the requirements for working at the organization I'm working at is, you have to have a basic physical. I wasn't able to do that before I left the States, so I had to do it here. Fortunately, the org where I work has a fully staffed, on site clinic. So, I made an appointment and had a physical. Part of the process includes meeting with the on site doctor, which I did. Lovely lady whose English wasn't that great, but who spoke French and German. My French sucks (read: is totally non-existent except for a few words like hello, thank you, and wonderful!), but I can do German, so that's what we did.

Anyway--I mentioned to her my history of migraine and told her that I take, as needed, a lovely little pill called Relpax. I told her I had one pill left and wondered if she could write me a script, because I'd left my script at home. She promptly wrote it out and then advised me to pick it up at a pharmacy in France because it would be cheaper than getting it in Switzerland.

Bear in mind two things here. First, I'm self-employed, which means I'm one of the more than 40 million Americans without health insurance. Second, when I have to pick up a prescription, I have to pay for it out-of-pocket. As a result, my medicine is very, very expensive and I'm very careful about when I use it. In the U.S., six tablets of 40 mg Relpax--the standard dispensed dosage--is between US$190 and US$230 a box. That's about US$32-US$38 per pill. Needless to say, I only take one if I absolutely have to, which is further to say that if the two Advil migraine and two regular Advil I take together don't work at the outset of a migraine, I'm reduced to taking one of my very expensive pills.

When the doctor said, "Go to France; it's cheaper," I figured "cheaper" would mean I'd be paying around €110 - €150 (around US$150 - US$210) for the stuff. In preparation for that, I pulled out my Visa card and braced myself. Then, I handed the script to the pharmacist. She went behind the wall, pulled it off the shelf, did a little bit of this and that on the computer, handed it to me and said, "€28,80."

*blink* *blink*

"Pardon? €28,80?" I asked in my best Franglish.

"Oui. €28,80."

I turned to my friend Sue, who comes with me to provide language services when I go to things like pharmacies and grocery stores and the like. "Did she say €28,80? As in two-eight? Twenty-eight euros?"

Sue confirmed that, yes, in fact, the pharmacist said "€28,80."

I think at that point, I had an out-of-body experience. I said, "€28,80?" then looked at the pharmacist and said, "In the United States, I'd pay $200 for these." Now it was her turn for an out-of-body experience. Sue had to translate that to her, despite her good English.

So, here's my question, ladies and gentlemen. Why can I get my migraine medication for US$40.44 in Europe--essentially the price of ONE pill in the States--but it costs me nearly US$200 in the United States for the exact same thing?!

Can someone please explain this inequity to me? Do pharmaceutical companies fleece us like this because they know they can?

Needless to say, I think I'm moving to France. At the very least for my pills, if nothing else. Forget the good butter and the good bread and the access to excellent chocolate, I want my pills.

And now, I'll go away. But before I do, I'm calling the doctor at the clinic and asking her to write me a script for 36 pills. €175 is still cheaper than I'd ever pay in the US.

Buffalo? In Switzerland?!

Yoda-lay-hee-huh?!

So, I'm in Basel this weekend, visiting my friends Mr. and Mrs. Swizzies. On the road to Basel, we passed a pasture or two or ten. (This is Switzerland, you know. You can't help but pass a bucolic pasture or two or ten when you're on the road. Anyway...) At one point, I glance over to the right and there are buffalo.

Let me repeat that. Buffalo.

Buffalo in Switzerland.

I drove across the great American plains in March--through South Dakota and Wyoming, to be precise--and I did not see a single buffalo on the entire trip.

I travel over 5,000 from Seattle to Geneva and I see buffalo.

Go figure.

P.S. I would have taken a picture, but I was busy driving 120 kph on the autobahn. Doing a drive-by shooting seemed like a bad idea. Photo copyright: First People.

Facebook and Seinfeld. Or, Why I'm Annoyed This Morning

Someone--an old friend from high school--kicked my ass today on Facebook. Literally. He took my profile photo and added it to some animated something or other where he then kicked my ass and sent me flying many feet through the sky where I finally landed near some pyramids.

WTF?! I mean seriously?

See, this is one of those Facebook things I don't get and that makes me snarky. I mean, what am I suppose to do with that? I haven't talked to him in over 20 years. He friended me on Facebook and I accepted. Then he kicks me in the ass? Really?! Is this suppose to be funny? Am I suppose to laugh? 'Cause I'm not.

*****

Supposedly NBC has signed Jerry Seinfeld* to a new show wherein celebrities give struggling couples marital advice. This from a man who wooed his wife after she'd returned from her honeymoon with her first husband. In other words, he's a home wrecker. But because he's funny and he claims humor is the key to a good marriage, we're suppose to take advice from him?

And people are worried about gay marriage in this country? I just don't get it. Heterosexual America needs to take a long, hard look in the mirror and realize gays and lesbians aren't the threat. Or, put another way, "We have found the enemy, and it is us."

*****

Obviously, I'm feeling snarky today. (No?! Really? Whodathunkit?)

I've made the bright, shining realization that perhaps I don't value people as deeply or as meaningfully as they value me. Apparently, my sentiments don't run as deep as I thought they did where friends and loved ones are concerned.

Or maybe they do. I don't know.

All I know is, I like/love people exactly the way I do. If it seems my like/love isn't deep enough for you, I don't know how to fix that or even if I should. Or could. I don't know.

If I don't, don't take it personally. It obviously isn't you. It's me.

*****

Snark over. Back to packing boxes.**


* Just like I'm proud of the fact that I never went to BYU, I'm equally proud of the fact that I've never watched a single episode of Seinfeld. I know I'm in the minority when I say, he just isn't that funny. The appeal is lost on me. Sorry. Like I said, it isn't him. It's me.

** Newsflash: I'm moving. To Washington State. You know? The other Washington? That one. Details at 11:00. Or whenever I get to it.

Overdone...

I like breasts. A lot. They're my favorite bit of anatomy on a woman. But this, this is ridiculous. This is what fellow blogger Lacochran would call "overmammification."

Of what do I speak?

None other than Sheyla Hershey's 38 triple K's. Yes, you read that right. 38KKK.

Check it out and tell me if I'm not right in saying, "Euewwwww."

Conundra

I like photography.* I like looking at other people's photography. I especially like looking at the Day in Pictures on the Washington Post for a glimpse of what's happening around the world and how it's been captured in pixels and color.


So, this morning, I'm flipping through the Day in Pictures for January 27, 2009. It starts off pretty fabulously with this picture of the Lunar New Year celebrations in Hong Kong. The series moves around the globe and then this picture pops up: former Presidents George H.W. Bush and Bill Clinton speaking at the National Automobile Dealers Association. And I stop and pause and say, "Huh."


Having worked at a trade association, I know a bit about where they get their money to operate. Companies pay millions and millions of dollars to their respective organizations for a variety of goods and services in Washington, D.C. Here's what makes me say, "Huh." The auto industry is on the verge of collapse in this country. The CEOs of the Big Three didn't get it when they flew into Washington in private jets to testify before Congress back in December. Now, apparently, the dealers don't get it either. While Americans are tightening their belts, the NADA is keynoting with George and Bill. That can't have been cheap. Their speaking fees are in the hundreds of thousands of dollars each. As part of a struggling industry, surely the NADA could have shown a little fiscal responsibility and spent their members' money a little more wisely?


Moving along, I get toward the end of the collection of photos which includes pictures of women in mourning in Gaza and the foreign minister of Isreal--a woman--speaking at a conference for women justifying Israel's actions in Gaza. (I always find it interesting when women advocate for and justify war. It's so ironic.) Anyway--that picture was merely annoying, but it was this picture that was disturbing: a soldier-mother in Rwanda with her baby strapped on her back and an automatic weapon slung around her front. How are we ever to acheive world peace if this is the image and the action?

Of course, being a brainless American, I like all of my stories to end happily-ever-after, so this photo of Seattle's Space Needle delighted me. Thank God.


As my friend Alice says, if you want to see the details in each picture, "click on the image to embiggen."

* I know! Shocking, right?

Appreciative Popping

Today is Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day.

Does Hallmark make a card for that?

Here's some virtual bubble wrap, if you feel the need to pop.


Photo copyright: Tang Teaching Museum at Skidmore College.

Anchors Aweigh, My Boy!

So, remember a few months ago when I said Sarah Palin actually makes George W. Bush look smart? Yeah. Well, I take that back. Bush is officially back in the "Stupidest Human Alive" category. And why, you ask? Because of this:

President George W. Bush, asked earlier about an auto bailout, said he hadn't decided what he would do but didn't want to leave a mess for Barack Obama who takes office a month from Saturday. A White House decision on helping the troubled automakers could come as early as Friday.

Um, sir? Mr. President? Sir, that ship has sailed looooooooooooong, long, long, long, long, looooooooooong, long, long ago.

Asshat. Read the entire story here, if you want.

January 20 won't be here soon enough.

Who the Hell Names Their Kid Adolf Hitler?!

Seems a couple in New Jersey named their kid Adolf Hitler. (And is upset that their local grocery store refused to put the little tyke's name on a birthday cake.)

Like, seriously?!

I mean, really?

Okay, I believe in free speech and all, but that's just way over the line.

Naming your child after one of the most heinous dictators of the 20th century is INSANE!

I mean, we're talking about a guy who waged warfare across Europe and Russia and killed six million Jews and countless other minorities, and this is the person after whom you name your child?!

Is this really the person you want your child to admire?* An impotent, failed artist from Austria** who somehow managed to rise to power in Germany and nearly devastate the world with his megalomaniac views and policies?

Frankly, I'd rather name a child Dick Cheney.


* Call me crazy, but normally when you name a child after someone, it's because you admire something about that person. What is there to admire about Hitler?!
** It pains me to point out he's from Austria, because I lived there and loved it. It's a beautiful country. Of course, I also met Austrians, while I lived there, who couldn't understand "all the fuss [we] Americans make about Hitler. He wasn't so bad. He gave us back our dignity and created jobs." (That's a direct quote from a Viennese frau I had lunch with one day.)

A Little Tewkesbury Round-up with a Dash of Oops!

You can't make up stories like the ones we've seen the last few days in the news. I'm only highlighting one or two stories today, 'cause it's too hard to choose from among the increasingly hilarious, the-McCain-Palin-campaign-is-so-stupid-I-can't-believe-it's-still-around stories.

That said, let's start with Mudflats of Alaska who does a lovely job of summarizing what will likely be known as Scarfgate or Neimangate or the RNC Shopping Debacle of 2008. Whatever. You just gotta wonder who dressed Ms. Palin the other day. Here is Sarah Palin's Wardrobe Malfunction & Some Useless Trivia. You know how they'll spin this, right? They'll say they're horses, not donkeys. Again, whatever. (Photo copyright: Max Whittaker/Getty Images. Click to enlarge and enjoy a laugh.)

An article in the Washington Post (and everywhere else) confirms that John McCain is even more out of touch than originally alleged by his opponents. Seems he still thinks Ms. Palin is eminently qualified to be vice president (and a heartbeat away from president) because he thinks "she's most qualified of any that has run recently for vice president, tell you the truth." Well, thank heavens for that truth clarification. I was starting to worry.

Oh, and I love how women everywhere seem to relate to her, because "she's just like me." Really? Well, let me ask this. If she's so much like you, why don't you have a blank check handed to you for $150K to go shopping? We're in the midst of an economic crisis and the Republican National Committee is spending $150,000 on clothes and make-up?! Let's not even talk about how they would never do the same for a male candidate (and frankly, John McCain could do with a decent suit), let alone how she isn't like you. Get over that illusion ASAP women! If this is how they're spending your generous donations now, imagine what they'll do with your tax dollars if they win the election. Doesn't seem very responsible, does it?

Anyway--here's the article: McCain Tries to Push Past Palin Backlash. (Frankly, if there's any pushing to be done, it should be American voters pushing McCain and Palin off the road to the Bridge to Nowhere.)

Steering away from the insult that is McCain-Palin, Joe Klein of Time tells us Why Barack Obama is Winning.

*****

And abandoning the world of politics, who in the world fires Santa?!

Seems the curmudgeons and corporate idiots at Tysons Corner Mall in Vienna, Virginia, do, that's who. These grinchiest of the grinch-grinchy Grinches gave Santa the heave-ho-ho-ho the other day. If you think that didn't raise a reindeer-sized poopy stink, think again. The controversy was so intense, the mall is now working out a settlement for Santa and trying to find him a new home.

Here's the article, as reported yesterday in the Washington Post, that started the polar meltdown: Longtime Mall Santa Out in the Cold and here's today's article about the results of their stupidity: Santa Firing Nets Lump of Coal for Mall, Apology.

Tysons Corner, you suck. Or, as Keith Olbermann would label you, you are the Worst Person/Organization of the Day. I know I won't be shopping at Tysons this holiday season.

I Have No Words

Is it just me or is this the stupidest thing since Baby Gap?



Obviously, "fashion, fun, creating a keepsake" is what having kids is all about these days? Poor token children.

Oh, and by "current partner" are they saying these women are in business together or they're life partners? If these women are family, what is happening to Lesbyterianism?

Where to Begin... Where to Begin...

There's so much good stuff going on in the political arena right now, I don't even now where to begin.

How about here...

Ladies and gentlemen: James Dobson and Focus on the Family, Phyllis Schlafly and the Eagle Forum, Rush Limbaugh, Bill O'Reilly, Anne Coulter, Ralph Reed, Pat Robertson and the 700 Club, the National Rifle Association, the Ku Klux Klan, and Newt Gingrich are pleased to announce "The New Family and Moral Values Coalition."

Women! No longer do you have to be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen.

Women! No longer do you have to question whether it is right to go to college or acquire a degree at an institution of higher learning as more than just back-up in the event your darling husband dies suddenly.

Parents! No longer do you have to extol the virtues of abstinence and moral chastity to your sons and daughters.

Men! No longer do you have to be the primary breadwinner in your nuclear family.

Mom and Dad! No longer do you have to counsel your sons and daughters about finding the right mate and carefully and prayerfully considering marriage.

In one fell swoop, Sarah I'm-Going-to-Finish-Breaking-the-Glass-Ceiling Palin and her geratic leader-god John I'm-Clueless McCain have rewritten the evangelical right's moral values agenda without even breaking a sweat.

Know what the cherry on the sundae would be?

The cherry on the sundae would be, if John McCain's third wife,* announced that her soldier son is gay.**

How perfect would that be?

*****

And speaking of marriage and gays and family values, I admit I'm gloating at the fact that the standard bearers of the defense of marriage are now back-pedaling and praising Gov. Palin and her family for supporting their daughter's out-of-wedlock pregnancy and encouraging her to marry the father of her baby.

Yeah, there's a defense for marriage if ever I've seen one.

And gays are the threat to traditional marriage?!

Yeah, okay. You keep telling yourselves that, folks. If you talk it up long enough, you can convince yourself of anything.

*****

Am I alone in this or are you women voters insulted by McCain's choice for a running mate?

Maybe I'm making a mountain out of a mole hill, but it seems to me that women of intelligence are smart enough to see through McCain's pick as nothing more than a feeble attempt to pander and patronize women voters.

Just because some women who supported Hillary are upset she didn't win the primaries or was passed over as Obama's VP pick, doesn't mean Palin represents a good replacement.

Women don't vote for women simply because they're women. We have too many ideals and issues at stake to be that simplistic.

If women voters think Palin is the right person for the veep job, they will vote for her, regardless of their conservative or liberal politics.

Having said that, though, most women I've talked to on both sides of the political spectrum find McCain's choice insulting to their intelligence.

*****

And speaking of women in the political spectrum, I noticed a sign the other day that just leaves me flummoxed.

HILLARY SUPPORTERS 4 McCAIN

Are you serious?!

You'd rather have four more years of Bush & Cheney Co. than vote for Obama-Biden? I'm honestly not sure what that will accomplish.

Even if I wasn't totally sold on Obama and I was upset that Hillary didn't clinch the nomination and was passed over for the Veep position, I'd rather take my chances with Obama than with McCain. You're not voting for McCain because you think he's the best candidate. You're voting for McCain to punish Obama.

In the end, all you're doing is cutting off your nose to spite your face, as the old adage goes.

Stupid. That's all I have to say. Stupid.

*****

Remember the 3:00 a.m. ad Hillary ran asking voters, when that call comes at that ungodly hour, who do you want in the White House answering the phone?

Ladies and gentlemen, I submit that we have to ask ourselves that very question now.

If something happened to Obama (and given the racist, backwards thinking of some of my fellow Americans, it's a sad possibility) or McCain (the dude is 72 and he has cancer, which means an early is demise is his sad possibility), who would you rather have stepping into the presidency?

Frankly, the idea of Palin makes me shudder.

It probably shouldn't, though, right? I mean, as the pundits and Cindy McCain have so adroitly pointed out, Gov. Palin has plenty of foreign policy experience. After all, Alaska is close to Russia.

Yeah, that thought helps me sleep at night.

I think the Right needs a new name.

How about the Moron Majority?


* Credit goes to Jon Stewart for that new moniker for Gov. Palin!
** Credit for that peach of a thought goes to my friend, G.T.

Not the Right Color

If it isn't obvious already, I'm just going to state it right up front so there's no confusion.

I am a Democrat.

I am voting for Barack Obama and Joe Biden in November.

I am voting for them for one simple reason: they give me hope.

I am not voting for them because one is black and the other is not.

My vote is not about the color of skin. It is not about religious affiliation. It is not about sexual orientation. It is not about socio-economic status. It is not about any of the demographic markers that are repeatedly bandied about as somehow meaningful and important in people's decision-making processes.

My vote is about ensuring we break the cycle of destruction and indifference that has placed its stranglehold on the country I love and is threatening to leave us the weakest of nations and in the dark.

My vote is about selecting the two people I believe will do the best job of restoring respect for our nation, ensuring domestic success for our people, and securing peace without war in the world.

So, I'm disturbed when, last night, after watching history being made wherein the first person of color was nominated by acclamation to be the Democratic nominee for president and after listening to Joe Biden's acceptance speech in Denver, I was reading some follow-up in the Washington Post and I read this:

But even as he won the nomination, there was open talk in the convention city that Obama's race remained a stumbling block to winning the White House.

"A lot of white workers ... and quite frankly a lot of union members believe he's the wrong race," AFL-CIO Secretary-Treasurer Richard Trumka told a breakfast meeting of Michigan delegates.

Did you catch that? Are you as disturbed as I am? Does this Richard Trumka guy speak for all of the AFL-CIO? Is this the sentiment in the executive suite of the AFL-CIO? Is this the official word from the AFL-CIO? I'd like to know. In fact, I'd like to hear those exact words--"A lot of white workers... and quite frankly a lot of union members believe he's the wrong race"--come out of the month of AFL-CIO President John J. Sweeney.

Frankly, I don't believe it. And I'm sick and tired of pundits and politicians and cable news talking heads telling us Obama's color is a problem.

It is a stumbling block, because they want it to be.

It is a stumbling block, only if we, the voting public, the American people, choose for it to be.

For me, it is not a stumbling block.

What I want to ask Trumka is, "What is the right color?"

Oh, I know, I know. Duh. It's so obvious, I can't believe I didn't think of it immediately. White is the right color. Well, just like heterosexuals arguing that homosexual marriage is a threat to the institution of marriage in this country when the track record for straight marriage isn't exactly stellar, I'm not sure arguing that white is the right color for the president is any more salient.

With 232 years of white presidents under our belt in a country that engaged in and continues to engage in open and often hostile discrimination against a broad swath of demographic labels, I'm not sure suggesting white is the right color is the argument I'd use to persuade people against voting for a black man.

Are we really still that myopic and stupid? Really?! Are we really still thinking about the races in 21st century B.C. terms?

White people have done more than their share of making a mess of this country. Surely a black man can't do any worse. Perhaps, he might actually do better. And it won't be because of the color of his skin, boys and girls. It will be, I believe, because "of the content of his character."

Maybe that seems quaint and provincial to you, but after watching eight years of the impact of character content on our country, I believe character, more than race, matters.

In November, I am unequivocally marking my ballot box for Obama/Biden. I am voting for hope and the continued belief that our nation can be noble and strong and successful while still being safe and open. I am voting for Obama/Biden because the other option is just more of the same and that, my friends, is a stumbling block.

A Filament Short of a Dim Bulb...

Sometimes, I say really stupid shit. Usually, it's good for a hearty laugh between me and the person who heard me say what starts out as a going-with-the-flow-of-the-conversation comment but instantaneously devolves into a "WTF?!"

*****

Earlier this week, I parked Bee's car in the back and accidentally got landscaping sand in her Passat grill. (For those wondering how you get sand in your grill, I overestimated where the pile of sand was relative to the end of the car.) When she went out to go running, I followed her so I could sweep the majority of the sand out of the grill. No point in blowing it all into the radiator, right?

After I finished and she'd driven off, I turned around to go back into the house and discovered I'd been locked out.

"Aaaaaaah!" was my exact reaction, followed by a string of expletives that would make a sailor blush. In addition to being locked out, I was also bare foot and braless. And, the Asian Tiger mosquitoes I so detest, but who love me, were out in force. In short, this was not a good situation.

Fortunately, the weather has been very nice lately, so I've had the windows open on the house (at least, I've had open the six windows out of 19 that function.) Thank God for good weather, otherwise I'd have been screwed. And eaten alive.

Clambering over a pile of salvaged brick and balancing on a bundle of precariously leaning tiles, I hoisted myself over to the bathroom window. I managed to jimmy out the screen without actually destroying it and then began the colossal effort of getting myself through the window. Let's just say, it wasn't pretty and I'm covered in bruises. But I was in, mosquito free, and I could return to watching It's Me or the Dog, which is really all that matters, right?

*****

So last night, Bee and I are watching some telly when we start talking about where we can hide a key so getting locked out never, ever happens to either of us again. This is how the conversation went from there.

Bee: We need to find a better place to hide a key.

Jay: Mm-hm. (Pause in conversation.) I know if you'd had your cell phone with you, you'd have come back. I'd do the same for you.

Bee: Yeah, except you never have your cell phone on.

Jay: (Chuckling) True. Kind of pathetic to even have one if it isn't on. Of course, it would be our luck and the day you get locked out, I'll be at my parents for five or six hours. But I'd turn around and come home to let you in.

Pause in conversation

Jay: You have my parents' home number, right?

Bee: I use to. I think I need to get it again.

Jay: Well, worst case, if you get locked out, just check the caller ID on the phone. It's always in there.

Bee: (laughing) If I'm out there and the phone is in here, that doesn't work, does it?

Jay: (realization of stupidity dawning on me, I start laughing, too) Yeah, I guess that doesn't work, does it?

Bee: That was really dumb.

*****

And that, friends, is the first time in seven years Bee has ever called me dumb.

In this case, it was wholly justified!

Got Unanswered? Seriously?!

Right out the gate, I'll say I think the Washington Post is still one of the smarter papers in the U.S. But grammatically correct? No. And it's been getting worse over the years, particularly in their online version.

Today's gaffe takes the cake and leaves me one part bemused and one part pained. This was in the More Top Stories column under the Health Section.


Note the headline in red (which is that color because I'd just clicked on it before I took this screen shot.) If you still can't read it, it says "Repeated Calls to 911 got Unanswered."

I'd like to give the WashingtonPost.com a break and think that perhaps this was a pressing, breaking news story that was posted in a flurry of paper and Perry-White-where's-that-story drama, but it's below the electronic fold, so to speak. Ergo, it was/is a scheduled story. I'm sure they meant to say "go unanswered" but someone was tee happy, added an extra letter, and no one caught it.

Obviously someone on the copy desk wasn't drinking their Red Bull last night.

Of course, I'm sure by the time you read this, the Post will have corrected itself.

Things That Go Bump...

...in the night and leave me W I D E awake.

Yeah, it's 3:00 a.m. Again. And I'm up.

I find myself up on many a sleepless night contemplating the air in my head and the lint in my belly button, but I rarely pose really pressing questions. In truth, and if I did, you would really learn what keeps me up at night.

For example, why do teachers always seem to have bad breath?

The other day, I left a comment at Quiet in the Stacks where I said, "I now it's not nice to laugh at pregnant women..." and then I thought, are there any other kind?

Whose idea was it to invent front loading washing machines? Worst and most ineffective invention ever.

Why has Dick Cheney not been hauled off to the War Crimes Tribunal in the Hague? Is there no justice in the world?

Why do sleep aids sometimes make you restless and wide awake? Isn't that counter to what they're suppose to do?

In Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Ron breaks his wand, rendering it largely useless. For Christmas, Hermione gives Ron a new wand. So, why, a few chapters later, is he still using the old, busted wand?

See what I mean? The questions of deep and lasting import that could just very possibly change what I eat for breakfast. It's more than I can bear. More beer? (And if you can name the movie that line came from, I'll be really, really impressed.)

*****

Gilahi was observing on his blog the other day that people seem to be running out of things to write about, his present company included. To fill the white space, he wrote about his colonoscopy. That was a fun read.

Thinking I might feel inspired, I thought about telling everyone how well being on birth control is working for me (HELLO! Why the hell didn't I get on this stuff YEARS ago?!), but then I decided no one needs all that detail and information.

Then I thought I'd rant about the pet crematorium where we took Bee's recently deceased cat, Frieda, but I'm saving that up for later. (And believe me, there will be a rant.)

I could write about how I'm editing a collection of personal histories, written by my cousins and aunts for a book my mother and her sisters are putting together for next year's family reunion, but no thanks.

See what I mean? I got nada.

*****

Which might not be such a bad thing, come to think of it.

Normally, I'd be working in an office setting, which would provide me with infinite possibilities of things to write. Now all I have is me, my Darth Vader bobblehead doll, and the Dirty Bastard Cat. He doesn't say much. Darth Vader, that is. The DBC, on the other hand, has an opinion about everything. When he really wants to make his point, he hurls.

The other day, we had guests over for dinner. When we do, the DBC goes to the basement. Otherwise, he's weaving in and out of people's legs, begging for food (he's worse than a dog that way), and generally being a nuisance. All of that, coupled with the fact that we also have friends who are allergic to cats, results in him going downstairs for the evening.

Needless to say, this makes him very, very angry.

Along the wall going down to the basement is a neat little DVD rack I bought at the loathsome IKEA. The Swedish furniture wonder recommends you hang the rack, made up of wooden boxes attached to a stick, vertically. Ha. What a joke! I installed them horizontally on a ledge going down the stairs. Perfect.

Or it was until the DBC discovered that he could express his opinion about being confined to the basement during all the fun and festivities by pulling DVDs out of the rack. Nothing like opening the door to the basement at the end of an evening of friends and frivolity to discover Breakfast at Tiffany's, Prime Suspect, Harry Potter 1-5, To Be or Not to Be, Peter Pan, The Mission, The Italian Job, Remembering 9/11, and Pirates of the Caribbean scattered down the stairs.

Hm. I wonder if I could trade the DBC to Barbossa for his monkey?

See? This, and many questions like it, keep me awake at night.

Umm...

This lovely video is part of an ad campaign in New York called Carpe Testes. I wonder if doctors will start suggesting to men that they have a partner assist them in their testicular exam? Heck, if doctors are suggesting as much to women for their breast self-examinations, why not men?

Oh, and in related news, it's been 15 years since Lorena Bobbitt cut John Wayne Bobbitt down to size, so to speak. My, my, my. Time flies, doesn't it?

Huh?

Seen at the intersection of Piney Branch and Georgia Avenue NW yesterday morning.

I can be a dim bulb sometimes, but this sign has me perplexed.

If I give you my car, truck, or boat, what good will a gas card do me?

Inquiring minds seek further light and knowledge....