Red Nose

This and That

In 1937, a gallon of gasoline cost 10 cents -- at least that what the "Finance Fact" on AMC's showing of "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" says.

Now it ranges from $3.57 at the WaWa in Beltsville to $4.05 at the Exxon in northwest DC.

Then again, folks make more money now than they did in 1937. My mom told me that when the Great Depression hit, her salary was cut in half -- from $30 a week to $15.

I'm not going anywhere with this trivia; I just figured it was a way to get an entry started.

Life has been rolling right along here in beautiful Burtonsville.

I have been getting a bit of physical therapy for my neck. For those of you who missed the announcement on Facebook, I have moderately severe degenerative arthritis in my neck, with nerve impingement at C4 on the right side and at C4 and C5 on the left.

Yay!

Actually, the physical therapy has sort of helped -- at least the exercises seem to give me better range of motion and less pain. I also apply a topical oil that the lovely and talented Danielle (part of the Weetacon tribe) sent to me. It helps, and smells delightful (an added bonus). My neck still aches all the damn time, but at least it's not actively horribly painful. That's good, because I have yet to hear of neck replacement surgery.

I suppose I must mention my Caps early exit from the Stanley Cup playoffs. Ah, me. This is where I haul out my list of "Oh well, at least" comforts rationalizations:

• We almost didn't even make the playoffs, so any run is a good run.
• Holtbeast!!
• We beat the defending Stanley Cup champion Bruins in seven games, knocking them out in the first round.
• The Penguins -- who many thought would skip their way to the Cup -- got knocked out in the first round.
• The Flyers -- also a Cup favorite, especially after knocking out the Pens -- well, except they didn't have any decent goaltending -- got knocked out in five games in the second round.
• We took the Rangers to seven games before we got knocked out.

The list goes on, but I'll stop talking hockey now.

Work has taken a turn for the busier, which is all to the good. The bucket list meeting was fine -- I volunteered my item early in the proceedings so that I didn't have to expound on my "passion". I was toying with the idea of saying "I want to die happy", but thought that put a damper on the proceedings. I also toyed with other snarky ideas but opted for publicizing the same goal I already put into print here: that I would finish The Sequel this year. Then I added "so that <The Overlord> can buy another 20 copies at Christmastime," which got a laugh, which was what I was aiming for.

Always leave 'em laughing, right?

 

 

 

 

Empty Bucket

My department is having a "Quarterly Business Review" in a week or so. This is an all-day meeting where each group in the department makes a spiel about how "impactful" they have been. We also get a free lunch, which is usually the highlight of the meeting.

At this upcoming meeting, we all have to share one item from our bucket lists. This activity is, I suppose, meant to inspire and impress and help us all get to know and trust one another.

I do not have a bucket list.

I do not want to have a bucket list.

I have no use for a bucket list.

Don't get me wrong; if you have a bucket list, good for you! I hope you accomplish everything on it and I will applaud you when you do.

I guess I don't want to live by a list. I make enough of them already -- lists of things I have to do at work, lists of things I have to do at home, grocery lists, packing lists, here a list there a list everywhere a list list.

I prefer to discover my joy organically. As my life unfolds, the universe presents opportunities to me and, if they seem interesting or fun, I'll take the universe up on them. I certainly never had "Write A Book" on a list -- I happened to see that some people I followed online were doing this thing called "NaNoWriMo" and I thought it sounds like a good way to get my circus stuff on paper. So I did it.

When I think about it, some of the most fun and enjoyable things that I have done or learned how to do over the years are things that I would never have put on a bucket list. They have all come about by accident, or serendipity, or because something piqued my interest. I've learned or gotten involved in things like origami, or scrapbooking (Shut. Up.), playing ukulele, even juggling because of an invitation, or a suggestion, or just because it sounded interesting.

But I guess I'll have to come up with something for this goddamn meeting.

I know. I'll put "Come up with something" on my bucket list.

 

 

All's Well That Ends Well

Today was a throwback to winter -- chilly and rainy and gray. The commute was depressing; the train was crowded and the bus was late.

And as soon as I walked into work I found out that the project that I was so careful with and thought I had finished last Wednesday was fucked up. No fault of mine, although the project manager tried her damnedest to deflect her team's woeful communication missteps onto my team.

Luckily I have a very supportive boss who didn't for an instant think it my fault, and a near-genius technical wizard who could work HTML magic, and a wonderful web services colleague who was did us a huge favor.

And my poor boss! She actually wasn't feeling well and stayed home today, but she took our phone calls and sent emails and we fixed it. We considered three options: the first was the least amount of work but would have screwed our legacy users, the second was a little bit of work but have been irritating for our new users, and the third option was the most work but the best solution for both the legacy and new users.

We chose Option 3, I am happy to say.

The details are not all that important -- the upshot is that we got it done.

But I hate days like this. I was edgy all day, constantly on guard and looking for the tire tracks on my back. Then I had to take the bus home (Joe's working late tonight) and it still spitting rain. So I was worn out and pissed off when I unlocked the door.

And there, on the kitchen table, was this:

Even when he doesn't know he's doing it, Joe makes it all better.

So I got into my jammies, had a nice Healthy Choice dinner, and now? I'm enjoying my just desserts.

Non-Holiday

Well, Happy Easter to those who celebrate it!

For us, today was pretty much like any other Sunday.

We haven't really done much for Easter in the past several years. Since SonnyeBoy grew up, we haven't done the usual stuff like dying Easter eggs and assembling baskets and nibbling the ears off chocolate bunnies; because neither of us is particularly religious, we don't go to church.

Instead, we went to lunch. I had a taste for Asian-ish food, so we went to PF Chang's. It was really good, too. I had egg drop soup (a very nice version, not the usual bright yellow stuff (which I love, by the way) but more of a clear broth with egg and veggies) and Mongolian beef with spring onions. Lovely!

And instead of a special Easter dress, new spring coat, fancy hat, and patent leather shoes, I wore yoga pants and a sweatshirt.

Poor Joe is not feeling well -- allergies have been kicking his ass and this afternoon he spiked up a wee fever. I fed him aspirin and tea, and now he is tucked up in bed.

I will likely be joining him right after Game of Thrones.

 

 

Window on Connecticut Avenue

As I mentioned here, I have a very nice cube right next to a long bank of windows. These windows look down on Connecticut Avenue, one of the major thoroughfares in DC. I have a great view of this street, so I can watch people, watch for desirable food trucks, watch motorcades of Important People, watch the weather, and generally stare out into space.

It can be a little noisy, particularly when the occasional motorcade comes through with its police escort or when the more frequent ambulance or cop car screams down the street, but the light is great! I'm going to miss that light.

Coincidentally, the prompt for the Photo-A-Day today is "window", so here you go.

My new cube is also by windows, but I won't have a direct view outside. One of the cube walls will block it. The view is okay -- it's the garden enclave of the main headquarters building. I think, but I don't know, that it will likely be quieter and a little darker; nevertheless, it is a window and I'll still be able to stare out into space. However, my staring will be a tab bit more obvious, since I'll have to get up and stand in the walkway.

Maybe I'll construct a sort of cube periscope for staring purposes.

At The Side Of My Bed

I didn't like what was originally on the wee table right beside my bed, so I moved the couple of videotapes and DVDs, swiped the dust away with an old sock, and put this little photo next to the lamp.

This is one of my favorite photos of SonnyeBoy. It was taken at a party; he was about two, maybe closer to three. We couldn't find a babysitter so we took him along with us. He had a blast for a couple of hours and then fell asleep in the hostess's bed. (Gotta love the Care Bear jammies.) An old friend took the picture, put it in this cute frame, and gave it to me. I've lost touch with the friend, but luckily I'm still in touch with SonnyeBoy! (Hee.)

His most recent post on Facebook read:

Last night: Make cookies
Today: EAT ALL THE COOKIES!

Yep. I raised him right.

 

In My 'Hood

Today's photo prompt is "your neighborhood." We moved into this neighborhood in 1987, right close to SonnyeBoy's sixth birthday. We never meant to stay this long -- it was supposed to be a way station on the way to our "real" home.

We bought the place from a floor plan and a look at the lot, watched as it was built, and moved in to a brand new shiny place. We watched the saplings grow into actual trees, seen all of our neighbors move in, raise kids, and move out. We are the only original owners left in our little court.

The house came with a set of tiny bushes and a baby dogwood tree out front. The dogwood died; we replaced it with a nice fir tree that actually grew quite tall. The bushes burst out of control until an ice storm in the middle 90s laid them low; Joe yanked them out, all but one. He cut that one back to the ground and now it's grown all the way back. We learned our lesson and keep it trimmed to a manageable size.

We replaced all of the appliances except the stove. It still works fine, but a couple of the knobs have broken so have to set the oven to broil or bake with a pair of pliers. (Those knobs are expensive!) We've replaced the water heater, the A/C and heating system, and the roof. We've painted, repaired wood trim, and bought new windows for the upstairs.

Furniture has come and gone, gardens cats have been born and grown and struck out on their own, different cars have settled in our parking spaces. We've fought with the Homeowner's Association (aka Garden Police) and walked around the lakes and shoveled snow off the sidewalk and stoop.

We flirted with moving several years ago, but the housing bubble burst and we stayed put.

Somewhere along the line, our wee townhouse became our real home.

 

 

Farewell, Cubicle; Hello Cubicle

Wednesday's Photo-A-Day theme was "where you work," so I posted this shot of my cubicle.

Several folks commented on Facebook that it was a nice cubicle, as cubicles go -- and they're right. If I have to sit in a cubicle, this one is a very nice one. I've been in this cubicle for a little over a year, but my previous two were very similar.

To the right of that plant is a long bank of windows, so there is plenty of light. My wee plant has actually survived for -- holy cow! -- five years because of this window placement. The big bank of file drawers on the left also has a tall thin closet, just big enough for a coat and a hockey jersey. You'll notice that I posted a little drawing in the cubicle "window" to provide an illusion of privacy.

I earned this cubicle, dammit. After almost 10 years at the company, I've got the seniority for it, and I have enjoyed it.

However, the Powers have decided that my department should sit in the same building as the rest of the division, so we will be moving up the hill to the main headquarters building. I'm not crazy about this move for several reasons, to wit:

• The new cubicles are smaller -- some say they lack the closet, but I'm not sure about that.
• Metro is practically at the door of the present building. The new building is about a half-mile away from Metro. (I realize that this could be a blessing in disguise, as it will force me to walk every day. Hmph.)
• We are quite spread out in the present building, so it is pretty quiet and private, even in a cubicle. We will be cheek-by-jowl in the new building.
• Potbelly is here. (On the other hand, McDonald's is close to the other building... ahem.)
• People tend to dress up more in the new building. I am not a dressy-uppy kind of person.
• The Powers will be close by, alas.

Oh well. I have already whined about my newly assigned cubicle, as it is far away from the row of windows and very close to the bigwigs in offices. A newly hired contractor, however, was assigned an end cubicle next to the row of windows. Now, there is a tall wall right on the hallway, so you do have to kind of angle your gaze to look out, but still. Windows!

Also, right next to the "door" of the cube are two "look inside the cube" windows, but I'm thinking some nice cafe curtains will take care of that. It's not like the wide-open entrance provides any privacy, after all. Then again, maybe a nice beaded curtain strung across the gap...

Anyway, I want that cubicle, not the one in the middle of the farm right by the bosses. People have been trying to talk me out of it, saying it will be noisy and right in the path of traffic down the hallway, but I do not care. I'll take light over quiet any time; that's why they make noise-canceling headphones.

I've had the big window office with a table and chairs. I'm fine with having a cubicle now. But I also want my window.

Wah, wah, wah. Gimme.

 

Valentine's Day, Cool Sites, and Other Randomness

So, Valentine's Day came and went, didn't it?

Joe, that sneak, slipped a card and some Ghiradelli chocolates on the kitchen table while I was in the shower and then went back to bed.

I, therefore, bought his card and a Toblerone after work. When we got home from our super-romantic dinner at a local barbeque joint, I slipped them on the kitchen table while he was communing with the feral cats.

Hah! I can be sneaky too!

Although it appears that I have not been keeping up with the February Photo-A-Day meme, I really have. I just haven't posted all of the pictures here. Instagram doesn't let me share photos with Typepad (or at least I haven't figured out how to do it), but I do share them with Twitter and Facebook. I also put the ones I like best up on Flickr.

Anyway, Instagram is my new favorite picture taking and sharing app. It's immediate, it does all the work for me, and it has fun filters that I always try out but always come back to the same two or three.

I've also fallen for a couple of websites that I hadn't seen before.

Letters of Note and Lists of Note are fascinating. I can hours reading the letters and lists archived on these sites and already have a few favorites.

This one, from a former slave to his former master, blows my mind. On the surface, it is completely respectful, but if you read between the lines, you know that this freed man is pretty much his former owner to go fuck himself sideways.

And this one, from Albert Einstein, pretty much sums up my entire belief system.

As a DC native, Ghosts of DC has particular relevance for me. I love the photographs and the comparisons of then and now. I wish my folks could see it! They would be able to fill in a lot of details, I'm sure.

On the other hand, I have not gotten into Pinterest yet. Oh, I'm signed up, and people are following me, but I have done bubkus on the site. I can't really say why; I just haven't spent enough time on it to get anything going. Maybe this weekend!

Well, this has certainly been a random entry. I'll get more focused later. Maybe.

Hunger Moon

Tonight is the full Hunger Moon.

It's apt.

February is my least favorite month of the year, and this year we get an extra day of it. And even though it's still the shortest month of the year, it seems like the longest. All of the Christmas lights are down, and even though the daylight last a few minutes longer it still gets dark by six.

I'm hungry for spring. Hungry for flowers and green leaves and the promise of warmth in the breeze and longer days when I don't have to think about when to leave work so that I can walk home from the bus stop in daylight.

I'm hungry for that light. I'm simply happier when it's light and I can turn my face to the sun and soak it in. I love the moon, it's true; it pulls me into its mystery as it waxes and wanes. But the sun, oh the sun! I crave it.

Maybe I'm just hungry for dinner. I'll go fix some. Hmm. Joe's at work, so what shall I have? Leftover pizza? Reheated chicken? The rest of the spaghetti and meat sauce? (I dare not call it "Bolognese;" our friend Vince would smite me.) Chicken, I think -- and a nice glass of wine.