I'm wearing DKNY Jeans, with a Hugo Boss belt.
All I need is an Abercrombie & Fitch t-shirt to complete the look.
Lucky I'm wearing an orange "Life is Good" t-shirt with a stick figure person hiking, instead :)
Friday, September 28, 2007
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Public Service Announcement - Head Lice
*Warning* The following post is almost guaranteed to make your scalp itch and your skin crawl.
It's not a pleasant experience to get a call from your child's school, asking you to come pick them up because they've got head lice. And then you see them and you wonder how on earth you missed the little sores all over the top of their little head, when you just washed their hair two nights ago.
It's also rather scary to google head lice and come across articles which tell you that most over-the-counter medicines and shampoos are useless because, just like Golden Staph, repeated exposure to various anti-Lice chemicals has built up their immunity and we now face...SuperLouse!
But discovering your child has head lice doesn't make you a bad parent...although there must have been a bad parent somewhere way back when who sent their child to school with lice and let them infect everyone else's kids, including your own.
It's also interesting to discover that the carpet in a classroom can be completely free of lice despite the room being occupied by kids infested with hundreds of lice, because lice need to eat about every 6 hours and don't survive very long when removed from their human host. In fact it's downright pleasing to discover that, because it means if you can get the lice off your kid's head and keep them off your own, you can eradicate the problem within 24 hours.
So they say the shampoos may not work, but guess what? They still make us parents feel better. And at least we're doing something, right? And maybe they don't kill the lice outright, but getting covered in irritating chemicals still can't be a pleasant experience, for a louse. And being repeatedly tugged through the teeth of a very fine comb can't be very pleasant, either. And combining the two experiences is almost guaranteed to make your average, common, everyday louse (and maybe even SuperLouse) lose his group on your child's hair and get washed down the drain.
So, while lice may be becoming resistant to anti-lice shampoos and washes, I'd still recommend using them as directed. And before rinsing the shampoo out I suggest using that little fine-toothed comb and comb through their hair first, yes, shampoo and all. Do it with your little one standing in the shower or bath and immediately rinse the comb under the water before running it through their hair each time.
And if all else fails, there's always MagiComb!!!
Now if you'll please excuse me, my scalp is itchy and I need to scratch!
It's not a pleasant experience to get a call from your child's school, asking you to come pick them up because they've got head lice. And then you see them and you wonder how on earth you missed the little sores all over the top of their little head, when you just washed their hair two nights ago.
It's also rather scary to google head lice and come across articles which tell you that most over-the-counter medicines and shampoos are useless because, just like Golden Staph, repeated exposure to various anti-Lice chemicals has built up their immunity and we now face...SuperLouse!
But discovering your child has head lice doesn't make you a bad parent...although there must have been a bad parent somewhere way back when who sent their child to school with lice and let them infect everyone else's kids, including your own.
It's also interesting to discover that the carpet in a classroom can be completely free of lice despite the room being occupied by kids infested with hundreds of lice, because lice need to eat about every 6 hours and don't survive very long when removed from their human host. In fact it's downright pleasing to discover that, because it means if you can get the lice off your kid's head and keep them off your own, you can eradicate the problem within 24 hours.
So they say the shampoos may not work, but guess what? They still make us parents feel better. And at least we're doing something, right? And maybe they don't kill the lice outright, but getting covered in irritating chemicals still can't be a pleasant experience, for a louse. And being repeatedly tugged through the teeth of a very fine comb can't be very pleasant, either. And combining the two experiences is almost guaranteed to make your average, common, everyday louse (and maybe even SuperLouse) lose his group on your child's hair and get washed down the drain.
So, while lice may be becoming resistant to anti-lice shampoos and washes, I'd still recommend using them as directed. And before rinsing the shampoo out I suggest using that little fine-toothed comb and comb through their hair first, yes, shampoo and all. Do it with your little one standing in the shower or bath and immediately rinse the comb under the water before running it through their hair each time.
And if all else fails, there's always MagiComb!!!
Now if you'll please excuse me, my scalp is itchy and I need to scratch!
Monday, September 24, 2007
A long, wet, and fun weekend
Friday night, after dropping the kids off with the in-laws, Liz and I made our way over to the Vineland Drive-In Movie Theater in the City of Industry to watch the Bourne Ultimatum. All of the weather reporters had been predicting rain & thunder storms but nothing had come down yet, although on our way over we saw a few flashes from down Orange County way so the thunder & lightning were out there.
It's very different to be "standing in line" but sitting in your car, waiting to buy your ticket to enter a Drive-In. There were only two lines going in so we were slowly moving up, bit by bit, when a car pulled up on our left, the passenger door opened, and a girl jumped out and ran up to the ticket window. A minute or so later the girl ran back and got into her car, and a ticket attendant came out of the ticket booth and opened a gate, letting the girl's car through and the one following it. Liz was fuming but calmed down somewhat when the ticket attendant closed the gate and stopped a third car that had come down behind the first two. She gestured at them to go back then ran back into the booth. The temperature in our car raised a little again when it looked like the driver of this car was thinking about trying to cut in front of us, but finally he managed to make a three point U-turn and back he went to the back of the line. The car behind him did the same thing but I think the third car behind them cut in line somewhere behind us.
Something that irritates both Liz and I is people who hold up lines by asking stupid directions, like: Where do I go? What should I tune my radio to?
To complicate matters the Vineland Drive-In does have four screens, one in each corner of the lot, but it also has sign posts, clearly visible while you're sitting in line, showing you what movie is playing on what screen and in which direction you'll find that screen, and it even has signs clearly posted at the front showing you what station to tune your radio to for each movie. But obviously some people still weren't paying attention at all and felt compelled to ask the ticket booth attendants "Where do I go to watch Halloween? What do I tune my radio to? etc, etc, etc."
Finally we got to the booth and I handed over $20 and said Two Adults, please. ($7.50 per adult, kids under 9 are Free!!! Not that the kids were with us.) The attendant said something in return and it took me a second or two to realize she was asking what movie we were here to see, which makes sense, they probably need to keep track of how profitable each movie is as they probably need to pay royalties based on attendance per movie. I said "Bourne Ultimatum", the girl rang us up and as she handed me my change I said to her, "Back behind us on the left, tune in to 91.9, right?" Both her and the other booth attendant happily replied, in unison mind you, "You got it!" It probably makes their day/evening to serve customers who know the routine and don't stop to ask, "Where do I go? What do I tune my radio to?"
I haven't been to a Drive-In for close to 20 years so it was quite fun and very nostalgic for me, and until this night Liz had never been to a Drive-In, ever. Although she's a woman of the world, having lived in several cities in three countries (four if you count six months in Australia) it makes me happy that there are still "firsts" I can do with her. She'd never seen Rocky Horror Picture Show until I stopped on it while channel flipping one evening, and this weekend at the Drive-In was another First that I was able to share with her.
Usually each of the screens at Vineland has a double feature but our screen tonight was a triple header, although it was "Halloween" both before and after "The Bourne Ultimatum". Not overly concerned about watching "Halloween" we made our way out when "The Bourne Ultimatum" was over. I found it amusing that they finally introduced David Webb in the third movie, when he's a huge plot element of all three Ludlum books. Then again, almost the only thing the books and the movies have in common is Jason Bourne. It's very easy to read the books and disassociate them from the movies, treating them as additional adventures in the life of Jason Bourne.
It's a good thing we didn't stay for "Halloween" because the rain finally came down shortly after we got home. I've never been at a Drive-In when it started raining, but I'm thinking it would drastically affect screen visibility.
When I woke up Saturday morning it was quiet...too quiet. I looked at my bedside clock and found a blank face staring back at me. I looked at the VCR and it was blank, too. The power was out. That would explain why it was so quiet; with the power out our air filter wasn't running. I got up and checked my watch and saw it was only 8am. Normally at this time I'd have breakfast then jump into Azeroth and get in some uninterrupted WoW-time, but we had no power, so WoW was not gonna happen. But I still needed to eat breakfast so I could take my antibiotic (to treat a Sinus Infection I've come down with) so I had breakfast, called the El Monte P.D. to ask about the power situation and got SoCal Edison's number. When I called SCE I got a recorded message telling me the power had been out since 4:30am but they expected it restored by 1pm. So I crawled back in to bed and snuggled up next to Liz, and went back to sleep.
An hour or two later we were woken up by people talking outside. It was the HOA President talking to another resident but Liz couldn't quite understand them. I knew what they were talking about, though; how to get our front gate open without power. They worked it out because when Liz and I went outside the gate was sitting wide open. Lucky my car is parked outside because our garage door is electric as well, although I'm sure there's some way to manually open and close it so we probably could have got Liz's car out if we'd really needed to.
We went to Liz's hairdresser first so she could get her hair done then we hit the local Norm's for second breakfast/lunch. It was pretty busy and when two seats opened up at the end of the counter I told Liz we should sit there instead of waiting for a table, so we did. I told the host we were sitting at the counter and gave her our name so she could cross us off the list of those waiting for tables, but she only remembered when another waiter called out our name and she turned to point us out. By that time our food was arriving so I'm glad we sat at the counter because my body needed fuel. I had no idea what my temperature was but it was 99.8 on Wednesday when I went to The Doctor's. Hot bodies need fuel, and mine was Hot. A medium-rare 16oz T-Bone steak, 2 Eggs (over medium), and breakfast potatoes got the job done.
Meanwhile the rain had started pouring down again and Liz was concerned about her hair getting wet on our way back to the car. I gestured to all the customers waiting for a table. I told her nobody was in a hurry for our counter seat (by now there were 8 to 10 counter seats available) so if we had to, we'd sit there drinking coffee until the rain stopped, which I knew it would, and soon, because it had been raining off & on all morning. Sure enough, as I was mopping up the last of my egg yolks the rain slowed down and before we'd paid our bill and made it outside it had stopped completely.
I called SCE and the recorded message had changed. "We expect power to be restored by 4:30pm." The power goes out, and it takes them 12 hours to restore it? Lovely. We went home anyway, planning to restock the fridge at SCE's expense. Hey, if they want to take 12 hours to restore power so the food in our fridge goes bad, they can reimburse us the replacement cost. Nearing home we saw lights on in the 7-11. Down the street there were several security lights on outside people's homes. We swung into the drive and the security gate was closed, but a press of our remote had it sliding it open. Hooray! We had power! We didn't need to take SCE to court to make them pay for our food after all.
We spent the next few hours bumming around the house, which meant WoW for me, and Animal Crossing on the DS for Liz :) With my Guild's help and a friend of a Guildmate we took on the 18 portals of Black Morass, wiped on the 12th Boss, but bounced back and blew through all 18 Bosses without any further incidents. And just like that I and another Guildmate had our Karazhan keys. And just in time to help Raid Sunday afternoon, which I did, but more on that later.
About 6:30, suspecting that rain would have brought out the worst in our fellow L.A. drivers, we left for dinner at the Red Ant, and so it was that by 7:30 we were on our way to the Blu Monkey in Hollywood to celebrate a coworker's birthday. Traffic was so light that we were there by 8pm but the Monkey doesn't open until 9pm. Lucky we spied a Pier 1 Imports so we managed to kill 20 minutes there, and then there was a Ross's down the road which hung out in until right on 9pm, despite it being one of the messiest Ross's I have ever seen...seriously.
While Liz was shopping, knowing my coworker is normally very punctual I texted her and asked if she was going to be there at 9pm. She said she probably would, but that we didn't have to be. I replied that we were right there, killing time in the Ross's just down the road, so we'd see her at 9.
With the Ross's about to start kicking customers out we left then drove across the road to valet park behind the Blu Monkey. We may have been able to stay parked where we were, given there's a 24hr Ralph's supermarket there, but I told Liz I'd rather not risk it. Who wants to leave a club in the middle of the night and find their car has been towed because it was parked in a supermarket parking lot for too long? Not me, that's for sure.
The alley/parking lot behind the Blu Monkey and its neighboring establishments was very dark, with not a single sign to point our way, but the valet had gestured towards the end of the alley so we slowly started down that way. Then we were passed by a guy carrying a case of bottled water. He looked like he knew where he was going so I asked him about the Blu Monkey. He was only its bartender, so of course he did. Yup, they'd barely opened their doors. We followed the bartender in and were their first customers of the evening...almost.
We walked in and there was no sign of Faye. I texted (you know, that word doesn't look like it should sound, I'm going to use txtd from now on :P So I txtd Faye "We're here. You're not. You're late :o" A few minutes later she was walking in the door :D
Having Reserved the Back Room, which is actually at the front of the club, we were a little surprised to see two large platters of food sitting on the two tables there. Two huge plates of empanadas, tiny strawberry trifle cupcakes, and rolled baklava. Along with someone's drink and 1/4 of an empanada (3/4 eaten). Pondering where the food had come from, if it was safe to eat any (I ate a baklava, one of Faye's friends ate a strawberry trifle), Faye's friends cheerfully piped up and said they'd ordered it. "Surprise," they said, but you could tell they weren't responsible.
Then another girl arrived and claimed the food. No, not a coworker nor a friend of Faye's. She was part of a different party. She also claimed she'd Reserved the room we were now sitting in. Faye turned around and looked at this woman and I could tell she'd just gone into combat mode. Faye may look all cute & girly-girl but she's not someone I'd want to mess with. She's a woman who knows what she wants and if you're in her way, she'll roll right over you...or through you. "I Reserved it too," she told this woman who'd dared to challenge her, "and I confirmed it earlier this week."
"We were expecting about 40 people," the woman said.
"I'm expecting 50," said Faye, "maybe more."
Obviously not as dumb as she looked the woman quickly backed down, so we graciously helped move her plates of food to the other end of the club. Some time during the next hour we found Faye's Reservation sign in one corner of our room, buried beneath some cushions. Nice try, silly woman.
It's been a long time since I went clubbing...a long time ago, in a country far, far away :P
We had a really great night without drinking too much, although the three Heinekens I did drink had me burping more than I usually do, and the pepper steak dinner I'd had at the Red Ant did not make for pleasant-smelling burps. Liz was being critical of me burping up a storm, until she made a burp of her own and it wasn't particularly nasal friendly, either ;)
Not being as young as we once were we Cindarella'd and were home by midnight, just. I was up again at 8am but unlike Saturday morning, this time I stayed up and finished sorting through the comics I brought back from Australia. By 12-noon I was done, with three Trader Joe's paper shopping bags of comics ready to go up on eBay, just awaiting pricing, photographs and descriptions. And my back was killing me.
I logged in to WoW and saw we barely had enough people on to hit Kara (minimum of 10, if we have a perfect class makeup) but Raid time was still almost an hour away. I got my Raid gear out of the bank, repaired my Armor and refilled my ammunition pouch, then made my way to Kara's front door. As Go-Time drew near more and more Guildies logged on and joined us, and a few people couldn't resist having a duel or two. One of our Rogues took down both our Protection-spec'd Warrior/Tanks, twice. The two Tanks then Dueled each other while the Rogue and I got it on, and I somehow managed to beat him. Rogues can be nasty if they sneak up on you from behind, because they can Stunlock you, basically getting in numerous free attacks while your toon stands there, dazed, unable to fight back. But most players don't have a Pet Cyboarg, who I'd set to Aggressive, meaning he would attack anything that came within range. Pets are good at sniffing out stealthy Rogues trying to sneak up behind their Master, so before the Rogue could close in and Stunlock me Cyboarg had hit him, bringing him out of stealth and preventing him from using his most devastating attacks on me. Despite not having done any PvP for a while, I've still put in many, many (far too many) hours on Kwazi, and for me, playing him is like riding a bike or playing a Piano. You may not do it all the time, but you never forget how to do it, so it wasn't long before the Rogue went down, but it was still a fairly close fought duel. As we bandaged up the Rogue mentioned our two Tanks were still going at it. With Shields for protection against each other's one-handed weapons, which don't do a lot of damage to begin with, they were barely hurting each other. It was one of the longest duels I've seen between two players with no way to heal themselves midfight. The only possible longest duel would be between two Healadins, or Healing specced Paladins. Holy Warriors with one-handed weapons & Shields, but who can also heal themselves and so take forever to kill. It was a closely fought fight that swayed back and forth as each player got in the odd big hit. And when it was all over and they'd bandaged up, I laughed my head off as they went at it again, with the same molasses-slow result.
Finally we had the players & classes we needed to attempt Kara and in we went. With this being the Guild's third foray into Kara for the week, several bosses were already down, and we were up to the Opera event, perhaps one of the most unique and novel Boss fights in the game. There are actually three different Opera events but the one we drew was Romulo & Julianne. Yes, a play on Romeo & Juliette :P
In the WoW version Julianne comes out swinging and the Raid has to take her down as fast as possible. Romulo then comes out to avenge her and the Raid now has to take him down, without a break. When he goes down there's a momentary pause...then both Romulo & Julianne pop up and the Raid has to defeat them both, with a twist. They must die within 10 seconds of each other or the one who fell will rise back to life. Several times we attempted this encounter but were never successful. On the second last attempt we took out Julianne but were unable to defeat Romulo within 10 seconds and Julianne came back with a vengeance. The last attempt was a repeat of the preceding one, Julianne went down and everyone turned on Romulo, and 10 seconds never seemed so long. Finally Romulo went down and everyone held their breath...only to see Julianne rise from the dead, followed by her lover, 10 seconds later. With our Casters and Healers out of mana, the lovers danced a lethal tango over the Raid and one by one we died a death. Somewhere along the way we stopped off at The Maiden's chamber, and after two attempts we successfully defeated the 50' tall colossus. So my first foray into Kara wasn't all doom & gloom, and despite dying numerous times it was still a lot of fun.
And that concludes a saga-length blog entry and this weekend :)
It's very different to be "standing in line" but sitting in your car, waiting to buy your ticket to enter a Drive-In. There were only two lines going in so we were slowly moving up, bit by bit, when a car pulled up on our left, the passenger door opened, and a girl jumped out and ran up to the ticket window. A minute or so later the girl ran back and got into her car, and a ticket attendant came out of the ticket booth and opened a gate, letting the girl's car through and the one following it. Liz was fuming but calmed down somewhat when the ticket attendant closed the gate and stopped a third car that had come down behind the first two. She gestured at them to go back then ran back into the booth. The temperature in our car raised a little again when it looked like the driver of this car was thinking about trying to cut in front of us, but finally he managed to make a three point U-turn and back he went to the back of the line. The car behind him did the same thing but I think the third car behind them cut in line somewhere behind us.
Something that irritates both Liz and I is people who hold up lines by asking stupid directions, like: Where do I go? What should I tune my radio to?
To complicate matters the Vineland Drive-In does have four screens, one in each corner of the lot, but it also has sign posts, clearly visible while you're sitting in line, showing you what movie is playing on what screen and in which direction you'll find that screen, and it even has signs clearly posted at the front showing you what station to tune your radio to for each movie. But obviously some people still weren't paying attention at all and felt compelled to ask the ticket booth attendants "Where do I go to watch Halloween? What do I tune my radio to? etc, etc, etc."
Finally we got to the booth and I handed over $20 and said Two Adults, please. ($7.50 per adult, kids under 9 are Free!!! Not that the kids were with us.) The attendant said something in return and it took me a second or two to realize she was asking what movie we were here to see, which makes sense, they probably need to keep track of how profitable each movie is as they probably need to pay royalties based on attendance per movie. I said "Bourne Ultimatum", the girl rang us up and as she handed me my change I said to her, "Back behind us on the left, tune in to 91.9, right?" Both her and the other booth attendant happily replied, in unison mind you, "You got it!" It probably makes their day/evening to serve customers who know the routine and don't stop to ask, "Where do I go? What do I tune my radio to?"
I haven't been to a Drive-In for close to 20 years so it was quite fun and very nostalgic for me, and until this night Liz had never been to a Drive-In, ever. Although she's a woman of the world, having lived in several cities in three countries (four if you count six months in Australia) it makes me happy that there are still "firsts" I can do with her. She'd never seen Rocky Horror Picture Show until I stopped on it while channel flipping one evening, and this weekend at the Drive-In was another First that I was able to share with her.
Usually each of the screens at Vineland has a double feature but our screen tonight was a triple header, although it was "Halloween" both before and after "The Bourne Ultimatum". Not overly concerned about watching "Halloween" we made our way out when "The Bourne Ultimatum" was over. I found it amusing that they finally introduced David Webb in the third movie, when he's a huge plot element of all three Ludlum books. Then again, almost the only thing the books and the movies have in common is Jason Bourne. It's very easy to read the books and disassociate them from the movies, treating them as additional adventures in the life of Jason Bourne.
It's a good thing we didn't stay for "Halloween" because the rain finally came down shortly after we got home. I've never been at a Drive-In when it started raining, but I'm thinking it would drastically affect screen visibility.
When I woke up Saturday morning it was quiet...too quiet. I looked at my bedside clock and found a blank face staring back at me. I looked at the VCR and it was blank, too. The power was out. That would explain why it was so quiet; with the power out our air filter wasn't running. I got up and checked my watch and saw it was only 8am. Normally at this time I'd have breakfast then jump into Azeroth and get in some uninterrupted WoW-time, but we had no power, so WoW was not gonna happen. But I still needed to eat breakfast so I could take my antibiotic (to treat a Sinus Infection I've come down with) so I had breakfast, called the El Monte P.D. to ask about the power situation and got SoCal Edison's number. When I called SCE I got a recorded message telling me the power had been out since 4:30am but they expected it restored by 1pm. So I crawled back in to bed and snuggled up next to Liz, and went back to sleep.
An hour or two later we were woken up by people talking outside. It was the HOA President talking to another resident but Liz couldn't quite understand them. I knew what they were talking about, though; how to get our front gate open without power. They worked it out because when Liz and I went outside the gate was sitting wide open. Lucky my car is parked outside because our garage door is electric as well, although I'm sure there's some way to manually open and close it so we probably could have got Liz's car out if we'd really needed to.
We went to Liz's hairdresser first so she could get her hair done then we hit the local Norm's for second breakfast/lunch. It was pretty busy and when two seats opened up at the end of the counter I told Liz we should sit there instead of waiting for a table, so we did. I told the host we were sitting at the counter and gave her our name so she could cross us off the list of those waiting for tables, but she only remembered when another waiter called out our name and she turned to point us out. By that time our food was arriving so I'm glad we sat at the counter because my body needed fuel. I had no idea what my temperature was but it was 99.8 on Wednesday when I went to The Doctor's. Hot bodies need fuel, and mine was Hot. A medium-rare 16oz T-Bone steak, 2 Eggs (over medium), and breakfast potatoes got the job done.
Meanwhile the rain had started pouring down again and Liz was concerned about her hair getting wet on our way back to the car. I gestured to all the customers waiting for a table. I told her nobody was in a hurry for our counter seat (by now there were 8 to 10 counter seats available) so if we had to, we'd sit there drinking coffee until the rain stopped, which I knew it would, and soon, because it had been raining off & on all morning. Sure enough, as I was mopping up the last of my egg yolks the rain slowed down and before we'd paid our bill and made it outside it had stopped completely.
I called SCE and the recorded message had changed. "We expect power to be restored by 4:30pm." The power goes out, and it takes them 12 hours to restore it? Lovely. We went home anyway, planning to restock the fridge at SCE's expense. Hey, if they want to take 12 hours to restore power so the food in our fridge goes bad, they can reimburse us the replacement cost. Nearing home we saw lights on in the 7-11. Down the street there were several security lights on outside people's homes. We swung into the drive and the security gate was closed, but a press of our remote had it sliding it open. Hooray! We had power! We didn't need to take SCE to court to make them pay for our food after all.
We spent the next few hours bumming around the house, which meant WoW for me, and Animal Crossing on the DS for Liz :) With my Guild's help and a friend of a Guildmate we took on the 18 portals of Black Morass, wiped on the 12th Boss, but bounced back and blew through all 18 Bosses without any further incidents. And just like that I and another Guildmate had our Karazhan keys. And just in time to help Raid Sunday afternoon, which I did, but more on that later.
About 6:30, suspecting that rain would have brought out the worst in our fellow L.A. drivers, we left for dinner at the Red Ant, and so it was that by 7:30 we were on our way to the Blu Monkey in Hollywood to celebrate a coworker's birthday. Traffic was so light that we were there by 8pm but the Monkey doesn't open until 9pm. Lucky we spied a Pier 1 Imports so we managed to kill 20 minutes there, and then there was a Ross's down the road which hung out in until right on 9pm, despite it being one of the messiest Ross's I have ever seen...seriously.
While Liz was shopping, knowing my coworker is normally very punctual I texted her and asked if she was going to be there at 9pm. She said she probably would, but that we didn't have to be. I replied that we were right there, killing time in the Ross's just down the road, so we'd see her at 9.
With the Ross's about to start kicking customers out we left then drove across the road to valet park behind the Blu Monkey. We may have been able to stay parked where we were, given there's a 24hr Ralph's supermarket there, but I told Liz I'd rather not risk it. Who wants to leave a club in the middle of the night and find their car has been towed because it was parked in a supermarket parking lot for too long? Not me, that's for sure.
The alley/parking lot behind the Blu Monkey and its neighboring establishments was very dark, with not a single sign to point our way, but the valet had gestured towards the end of the alley so we slowly started down that way. Then we were passed by a guy carrying a case of bottled water. He looked like he knew where he was going so I asked him about the Blu Monkey. He was only its bartender, so of course he did. Yup, they'd barely opened their doors. We followed the bartender in and were their first customers of the evening...almost.
We walked in and there was no sign of Faye. I texted (you know, that word doesn't look like it should sound, I'm going to use txtd from now on :P So I txtd Faye "We're here. You're not. You're late :o" A few minutes later she was walking in the door :D
Having Reserved the Back Room, which is actually at the front of the club, we were a little surprised to see two large platters of food sitting on the two tables there. Two huge plates of empanadas, tiny strawberry trifle cupcakes, and rolled baklava. Along with someone's drink and 1/4 of an empanada (3/4 eaten). Pondering where the food had come from, if it was safe to eat any (I ate a baklava, one of Faye's friends ate a strawberry trifle), Faye's friends cheerfully piped up and said they'd ordered it. "Surprise," they said, but you could tell they weren't responsible.
Then another girl arrived and claimed the food. No, not a coworker nor a friend of Faye's. She was part of a different party. She also claimed she'd Reserved the room we were now sitting in. Faye turned around and looked at this woman and I could tell she'd just gone into combat mode. Faye may look all cute & girly-girl but she's not someone I'd want to mess with. She's a woman who knows what she wants and if you're in her way, she'll roll right over you...or through you. "I Reserved it too," she told this woman who'd dared to challenge her, "and I confirmed it earlier this week."
"We were expecting about 40 people," the woman said.
"I'm expecting 50," said Faye, "maybe more."
Obviously not as dumb as she looked the woman quickly backed down, so we graciously helped move her plates of food to the other end of the club. Some time during the next hour we found Faye's Reservation sign in one corner of our room, buried beneath some cushions. Nice try, silly woman.
It's been a long time since I went clubbing...a long time ago, in a country far, far away :P
We had a really great night without drinking too much, although the three Heinekens I did drink had me burping more than I usually do, and the pepper steak dinner I'd had at the Red Ant did not make for pleasant-smelling burps. Liz was being critical of me burping up a storm, until she made a burp of her own and it wasn't particularly nasal friendly, either ;)
Not being as young as we once were we Cindarella'd and were home by midnight, just. I was up again at 8am but unlike Saturday morning, this time I stayed up and finished sorting through the comics I brought back from Australia. By 12-noon I was done, with three Trader Joe's paper shopping bags of comics ready to go up on eBay, just awaiting pricing, photographs and descriptions. And my back was killing me.
I logged in to WoW and saw we barely had enough people on to hit Kara (minimum of 10, if we have a perfect class makeup) but Raid time was still almost an hour away. I got my Raid gear out of the bank, repaired my Armor and refilled my ammunition pouch, then made my way to Kara's front door. As Go-Time drew near more and more Guildies logged on and joined us, and a few people couldn't resist having a duel or two. One of our Rogues took down both our Protection-spec'd Warrior/Tanks, twice. The two Tanks then Dueled each other while the Rogue and I got it on, and I somehow managed to beat him. Rogues can be nasty if they sneak up on you from behind, because they can Stunlock you, basically getting in numerous free attacks while your toon stands there, dazed, unable to fight back. But most players don't have a Pet Cyboarg, who I'd set to Aggressive, meaning he would attack anything that came within range. Pets are good at sniffing out stealthy Rogues trying to sneak up behind their Master, so before the Rogue could close in and Stunlock me Cyboarg had hit him, bringing him out of stealth and preventing him from using his most devastating attacks on me. Despite not having done any PvP for a while, I've still put in many, many (far too many) hours on Kwazi, and for me, playing him is like riding a bike or playing a Piano. You may not do it all the time, but you never forget how to do it, so it wasn't long before the Rogue went down, but it was still a fairly close fought duel. As we bandaged up the Rogue mentioned our two Tanks were still going at it. With Shields for protection against each other's one-handed weapons, which don't do a lot of damage to begin with, they were barely hurting each other. It was one of the longest duels I've seen between two players with no way to heal themselves midfight. The only possible longest duel would be between two Healadins, or Healing specced Paladins. Holy Warriors with one-handed weapons & Shields, but who can also heal themselves and so take forever to kill. It was a closely fought fight that swayed back and forth as each player got in the odd big hit. And when it was all over and they'd bandaged up, I laughed my head off as they went at it again, with the same molasses-slow result.
Finally we had the players & classes we needed to attempt Kara and in we went. With this being the Guild's third foray into Kara for the week, several bosses were already down, and we were up to the Opera event, perhaps one of the most unique and novel Boss fights in the game. There are actually three different Opera events but the one we drew was Romulo & Julianne. Yes, a play on Romeo & Juliette :P
In the WoW version Julianne comes out swinging and the Raid has to take her down as fast as possible. Romulo then comes out to avenge her and the Raid now has to take him down, without a break. When he goes down there's a momentary pause...then both Romulo & Julianne pop up and the Raid has to defeat them both, with a twist. They must die within 10 seconds of each other or the one who fell will rise back to life. Several times we attempted this encounter but were never successful. On the second last attempt we took out Julianne but were unable to defeat Romulo within 10 seconds and Julianne came back with a vengeance. The last attempt was a repeat of the preceding one, Julianne went down and everyone turned on Romulo, and 10 seconds never seemed so long. Finally Romulo went down and everyone held their breath...only to see Julianne rise from the dead, followed by her lover, 10 seconds later. With our Casters and Healers out of mana, the lovers danced a lethal tango over the Raid and one by one we died a death. Somewhere along the way we stopped off at The Maiden's chamber, and after two attempts we successfully defeated the 50' tall colossus. So my first foray into Kara wasn't all doom & gloom, and despite dying numerous times it was still a lot of fun.
And that concludes a saga-length blog entry and this weekend :)
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Twins through IVF
In Vitro Fertilization is a method used by some couples who have (for one reason or another) been unable to conceive through more natural means.
One of my friends and his wife chose to use IVF when they'd been unable to conceive naturally...ok, ok, when his wife had been unable to conceive naturally. Happy now? So they did the IVF and his wife got pregnant, as frequently happens with IVF, and they ended up with twins, because after years of trying his wife had finally conceived naturally at almost the same time as she underwent IVF. Both embryos developed and in nine months she gave birth to twins...sort of...one boy, one girl :) And they were as happy as pigs in mud...probably even happier than that :)
This morning I caught a news report from Australia about a Lesbian couple who'd used IVF to conceive and they were suing their doctor because they'd had twins and they only wanted one child. To one set of parents, two children were an unexpected blessing. To another set, two was one too many. Strange how the world works.
One of my friends and his wife chose to use IVF when they'd been unable to conceive naturally...ok, ok, when his wife had been unable to conceive naturally. Happy now? So they did the IVF and his wife got pregnant, as frequently happens with IVF, and they ended up with twins, because after years of trying his wife had finally conceived naturally at almost the same time as she underwent IVF. Both embryos developed and in nine months she gave birth to twins...sort of...one boy, one girl :) And they were as happy as pigs in mud...probably even happier than that :)
This morning I caught a news report from Australia about a Lesbian couple who'd used IVF to conceive and they were suing their doctor because they'd had twins and they only wanted one child. To one set of parents, two children were an unexpected blessing. To another set, two was one too many. Strange how the world works.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Britney Spears is not fat.
She's not in the shape she used to be a few years ago, but if you look at this picture...
and you really think she's fat...then you've got more problems than Britney does.
Her performance was very lackluster, the lip synching was not convincing in the slightest, and she didn't even seem to be trying, what with her dance moves that weren't, but she's not fat.
and you really think she's fat...then you've got more problems than Britney does.
Her performance was very lackluster, the lip synching was not convincing in the slightest, and she didn't even seem to be trying, what with her dance moves that weren't, but she's not fat.
Sunday, September 09, 2007
The Tam O'Shanter
A Tam O'Shanter is a scottish bonnet or cap. The Tam O'Shanter I'm going to write about today is a Scottish-style pub or restaurant, but an upscale one, not quite somewhere you'd go with the lads for a pint after work or the game.
Two days ago Liz emailed me (at work) saying she'd made a reservation for Lawry's in Beverly Hills, but the earliest she'd been able to get was Saturday Sept. 15th. Wondering what Lawry's was, and why Liz was keen to eat there, I googled them and found out they are a steakhouse (of sorts) that specializes in Prime Rib. I promptly hit Chowhound.com and discovered mention of a place called the Tam O'Shanter, owned by Lawry's, and reported to serve a Prime Rib the equal, if not better, of their parent company.
I emailed Liz back telling her about the Tam and a few minutes later she replied that she'd made a reservation for 7pm for the next night, being last night...and that she'd canceled the Lawry's reservation :P
So shortly after 6pm last night we tootled off to Glendale and the Tam, which is located no more than 10 minutes from where we used to live in Eagle Rock. We got there about 30 minutes prior to our reservation but the host checked her computer and said she could take us back, and we got our first real glimpse at the inside proper of the Tam O'Shanter.
That's not the entire restaurant, it's just one small area, but it's even more amazing than it looks in that picture.
Male waiters were wearing tartan waistcoats, female waiters were in almost full, formal highland dress. The busboys were wearing puffy pirate shirts ;), knicker bockers with knee-high white socks & blacks shoes. The dining area was divided into several smaller rooms and we were taken in to one of the back rooms and sat at a table in the corner. The table was set for two but was larger than most two-person tables. I hate restaurants that use tiny tables in order to accommodate more people (and make more money), then squeeze 3 or 4 people into a table designed for 2. The chairs! Oh, the chairs. You can see them in the picture and they were practically arm chairs. Large, comfy chairs that you sat back in to and said, "Oh yeah, I'm not getting out of this seat in a hurry." And we didn't.
Liz elected not to have an appetizer, but her Prime Rib meal came with a salad anyway. I chose to strart my meal with the Scotch Rarebit, a variant of the Welsh dish with a similar name, and I was not disappointed. Although little more than a warm, thick cheese concoction with a dash of whisky, mustard & nutmeg, it was surprisingly good when spread on the thinly sliced toast that came with it. I actually ran out of toast and ended up using bread to mop up the last of the Rarebit from the small, metal tureen.
When our entrées arrived (note: the entrée is what North Americans call the main dish, and no, I don't know why. Maybe just to be contrary?) we were not disappointed. My Rib Eye, cooked to "medium", was perfect. A little pink in the middle and very tender. I ate a few mouthfuls then cut off a slice to share with Liz, and I think I gave her the best cut from my Rib Eye, not to say the rest of it wasn't amazing as well, but the expression on her face as she ate was a sight to behold; it literally melted in your mouth. Liz's Prime Rib was good, too, but I thought my Rib Eye was just a little better.
The wine I had complimented my Rib Eye perfectly. I have no clue what it was, I ordered it at the recommendation of the waiter, but it was a delightful Pinot, not too rich with just a little bite to it. I drank the whole thing and enjoyed it to the last drop. Unusual for me, who's not a big wine drinker.
Although we'd rejected the chocolate soufflé at the start of our meal as the dessert of choice (you have to order the soufflé at the start of the meal because they cook them to order), we still took a look at the dessert menu and ended up ordering the Coconut Bread & Raisin Pudding with Vanilla Cream Sauce. Oh boy! It was goooood. Liz & I split one between us and we finished the lot, except for one small piece. I told Liz it's good manners to leave just a little bit because it tells your host you've had sufficient to eat. Besides which, we were both Stuffed! Yes, with a capital S!
Remember earlier I said we weren't getting out of those chairs in a hurry? We somehow took almost 2 hours to have our meal. For parents of two small children this is unheard of, but then our kids stayed with their grandparents last night so that helped immensely. We were able to take our time over dinner but it never felt like we were trying to stretch the meal out. It was a fantastic night for just the two of us.
Two days ago Liz emailed me (at work) saying she'd made a reservation for Lawry's in Beverly Hills, but the earliest she'd been able to get was Saturday Sept. 15th. Wondering what Lawry's was, and why Liz was keen to eat there, I googled them and found out they are a steakhouse (of sorts) that specializes in Prime Rib. I promptly hit Chowhound.com and discovered mention of a place called the Tam O'Shanter, owned by Lawry's, and reported to serve a Prime Rib the equal, if not better, of their parent company.
I emailed Liz back telling her about the Tam and a few minutes later she replied that she'd made a reservation for 7pm for the next night, being last night...and that she'd canceled the Lawry's reservation :P
So shortly after 6pm last night we tootled off to Glendale and the Tam, which is located no more than 10 minutes from where we used to live in Eagle Rock. We got there about 30 minutes prior to our reservation but the host checked her computer and said she could take us back, and we got our first real glimpse at the inside proper of the Tam O'Shanter.
That's not the entire restaurant, it's just one small area, but it's even more amazing than it looks in that picture.
Male waiters were wearing tartan waistcoats, female waiters were in almost full, formal highland dress. The busboys were wearing puffy pirate shirts ;), knicker bockers with knee-high white socks & blacks shoes. The dining area was divided into several smaller rooms and we were taken in to one of the back rooms and sat at a table in the corner. The table was set for two but was larger than most two-person tables. I hate restaurants that use tiny tables in order to accommodate more people (and make more money), then squeeze 3 or 4 people into a table designed for 2. The chairs! Oh, the chairs. You can see them in the picture and they were practically arm chairs. Large, comfy chairs that you sat back in to and said, "Oh yeah, I'm not getting out of this seat in a hurry." And we didn't.
Liz elected not to have an appetizer, but her Prime Rib meal came with a salad anyway. I chose to strart my meal with the Scotch Rarebit, a variant of the Welsh dish with a similar name, and I was not disappointed. Although little more than a warm, thick cheese concoction with a dash of whisky, mustard & nutmeg, it was surprisingly good when spread on the thinly sliced toast that came with it. I actually ran out of toast and ended up using bread to mop up the last of the Rarebit from the small, metal tureen.
When our entrées arrived (note: the entrée is what North Americans call the main dish, and no, I don't know why. Maybe just to be contrary?) we were not disappointed. My Rib Eye, cooked to "medium", was perfect. A little pink in the middle and very tender. I ate a few mouthfuls then cut off a slice to share with Liz, and I think I gave her the best cut from my Rib Eye, not to say the rest of it wasn't amazing as well, but the expression on her face as she ate was a sight to behold; it literally melted in your mouth. Liz's Prime Rib was good, too, but I thought my Rib Eye was just a little better.
The wine I had complimented my Rib Eye perfectly. I have no clue what it was, I ordered it at the recommendation of the waiter, but it was a delightful Pinot, not too rich with just a little bite to it. I drank the whole thing and enjoyed it to the last drop. Unusual for me, who's not a big wine drinker.
Although we'd rejected the chocolate soufflé at the start of our meal as the dessert of choice (you have to order the soufflé at the start of the meal because they cook them to order), we still took a look at the dessert menu and ended up ordering the Coconut Bread & Raisin Pudding with Vanilla Cream Sauce. Oh boy! It was goooood. Liz & I split one between us and we finished the lot, except for one small piece. I told Liz it's good manners to leave just a little bit because it tells your host you've had sufficient to eat. Besides which, we were both Stuffed! Yes, with a capital S!
Remember earlier I said we weren't getting out of those chairs in a hurry? We somehow took almost 2 hours to have our meal. For parents of two small children this is unheard of, but then our kids stayed with their grandparents last night so that helped immensely. We were able to take our time over dinner but it never felt like we were trying to stretch the meal out. It was a fantastic night for just the two of us.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
One fine day, down at the office
At work today one of the ladies noticed the roll of plastic wrap she'd put in the kitchen a few weeks ago was gone, so she sent out an office-wide email stating that while the roll was for general use by the office, she would appreciate whoever took it returning it to the kitchen. Perhaps in the vein of a letter written by a young lady over 100 years ago, my coworker's email was sent with the subject line of "Why Virginia...Why???"
I couldn't help myself and decided to throw a bit of fuel on the fire.
I hit Reply All and stated that maybe Virginia used the last of the plastic wrap so she threw out the box, but (I added), given that whenever we have donuts or cakes in the breakroom, the empty box is always left on the table and never thrown away by the person who takes the last donut, I said I thought it was unlikely that Virginia would throw out the box after using the last of the plastic wrap.
Then again, there's a lot more humor value in taking the last donut and leaving the box lying around, because you just know the next person to come in will see the box and get all excited, but when they open it there's no donuts, just Doh! Nuts!
The coworker didn't quite get my punny joke and stopped by to say the box of plastic wrap was practically brand new, but one coworker came back with a comment of his own, referring to Virginia as Ms. Wolf, stating that perhaps we could lure her out by leaving a couple of boxes of Donuts in the breakroom. A third coworker stopped by my desk and said he thought Virginia's last name was Slim.
I restrained myself and this time just sent an email to the few people that I knew would appreciate a good Pun ;)
I stated that Virginia Wolf was known to a couple of people, but she now went by Virginia Slim, but if Virginia continues to take the last donut, I said, she won't be Slim for much longer.
One of my coworkers rose to the challenge and replied, saying that leaving out a box of donuts sounded like an excellent way to smoke out Virginia Slim.
Boy, do we have some sick people in our office, me included :P
I couldn't help myself and decided to throw a bit of fuel on the fire.
I hit Reply All and stated that maybe Virginia used the last of the plastic wrap so she threw out the box, but (I added), given that whenever we have donuts or cakes in the breakroom, the empty box is always left on the table and never thrown away by the person who takes the last donut, I said I thought it was unlikely that Virginia would throw out the box after using the last of the plastic wrap.
Then again, there's a lot more humor value in taking the last donut and leaving the box lying around, because you just know the next person to come in will see the box and get all excited, but when they open it there's no donuts, just Doh! Nuts!
The coworker didn't quite get my punny joke and stopped by to say the box of plastic wrap was practically brand new, but one coworker came back with a comment of his own, referring to Virginia as Ms. Wolf, stating that perhaps we could lure her out by leaving a couple of boxes of Donuts in the breakroom. A third coworker stopped by my desk and said he thought Virginia's last name was Slim.
I restrained myself and this time just sent an email to the few people that I knew would appreciate a good Pun ;)
I stated that Virginia Wolf was known to a couple of people, but she now went by Virginia Slim, but if Virginia continues to take the last donut, I said, she won't be Slim for much longer.
One of my coworkers rose to the challenge and replied, saying that leaving out a box of donuts sounded like an excellent way to smoke out Virginia Slim.
Boy, do we have some sick people in our office, me included :P
Monday, September 03, 2007
The real post
So the primary reason for going to Australia this time around was to meet Keith, the new man in my mum's life, and to walk her down the aisle when she married him.
Keith & Mum met us at the airport, along with my older sister, Kim. And strangely enough, it didn't seem strange seeing Mum with Keith. Even when they kissed in front of me it didn't seem that odd, even though Keith is not my Dad. I mean when you think about it this is someone who's not my Dad and he's kissing my Mum, but it was a non-issue. Both my kids took to him like he was a long lost uncle (or grandfather ;) and again I didn't have any problems with my kids calling someone not my Dad "Poppy".
During the second week we went out to the cemetery. In cleaning up my old things I'd found my old wooden Emmaus cross so I decided I'd leave that at Jonno's grave while we were out there, it was strangely symbolic because our Emmaus group pretty much died when Jonno did. In fact most of the Emmaus members dropped their crosses on his coffin before he was buried. I've left mine there now, too, just 18 years later. Funny to think that Jonno has almost been dead now for as long as he lived. That's one of those "What ifs?" "What if Jonno hadn't died? What would life have been like now with my best mate still around?" And honestly? I have no idea.
I got a little teary when I saw the plaque on Dad's grave and we put some flowers down there and I knelt down to wipe some grass off that had been sprayed there from a recent mowing and that was when I really broke down and cried. I'll always miss my Dad, but life goes on, too. Life has to go on, because the alternative is not an alternative, it's just a cop out.
Life goes on and now my Mum is married to the new man in her life and I still miss my Dad a hell of a lot, but I'm ok with Mum being married to someone else.
Walking Mum down the aisle was partly tradition, but I also wonder if maybe that decision was also made as therapy for me as well. By walking Mum down the aisle, as I mentioned in a post a while back, I had to confront the fact that my Dad is dead and life is still going on. Well, Dad being dead never entered my mind as I walked Mum down the aisle. In fact it wasn't that hard at all. I was looking Keith in the eye the whole time and smiling at him in an attempt to show that the wedding had my full approval (which probably has something to do with Dad's death), but of course Keith wasn't looking at me, he had nothing but tear-filled eyes for my Mum. Which just made the whole thing easier still, seeing just how much in love with my Mum he was.
Now that they've found each other and made this commitment to each other, I wish my Mum and Keith the longest, happiest & healthiest of lives together.
Keith & Mum met us at the airport, along with my older sister, Kim. And strangely enough, it didn't seem strange seeing Mum with Keith. Even when they kissed in front of me it didn't seem that odd, even though Keith is not my Dad. I mean when you think about it this is someone who's not my Dad and he's kissing my Mum, but it was a non-issue. Both my kids took to him like he was a long lost uncle (or grandfather ;) and again I didn't have any problems with my kids calling someone not my Dad "Poppy".
During the second week we went out to the cemetery. In cleaning up my old things I'd found my old wooden Emmaus cross so I decided I'd leave that at Jonno's grave while we were out there, it was strangely symbolic because our Emmaus group pretty much died when Jonno did. In fact most of the Emmaus members dropped their crosses on his coffin before he was buried. I've left mine there now, too, just 18 years later. Funny to think that Jonno has almost been dead now for as long as he lived. That's one of those "What ifs?" "What if Jonno hadn't died? What would life have been like now with my best mate still around?" And honestly? I have no idea.
I got a little teary when I saw the plaque on Dad's grave and we put some flowers down there and I knelt down to wipe some grass off that had been sprayed there from a recent mowing and that was when I really broke down and cried. I'll always miss my Dad, but life goes on, too. Life has to go on, because the alternative is not an alternative, it's just a cop out.
Life goes on and now my Mum is married to the new man in her life and I still miss my Dad a hell of a lot, but I'm ok with Mum being married to someone else.
Walking Mum down the aisle was partly tradition, but I also wonder if maybe that decision was also made as therapy for me as well. By walking Mum down the aisle, as I mentioned in a post a while back, I had to confront the fact that my Dad is dead and life is still going on. Well, Dad being dead never entered my mind as I walked Mum down the aisle. In fact it wasn't that hard at all. I was looking Keith in the eye the whole time and smiling at him in an attempt to show that the wedding had my full approval (which probably has something to do with Dad's death), but of course Keith wasn't looking at me, he had nothing but tear-filled eyes for my Mum. Which just made the whole thing easier still, seeing just how much in love with my Mum he was.
Now that they've found each other and made this commitment to each other, I wish my Mum and Keith the longest, happiest & healthiest of lives together.
There and back again
I think I've used that as a title before. Meh.
Carol & Zac drove us down to the City last night (which was actually about 36 hours ago, now), we stopped at Kim & Shaun's place, had our Fish & Chip dinner, and after a tearful farewell Carol & Zac drove us on to the Formule 1 Hotel located a short walk from Tullamarine. We checked in and got two rooms on the third floor, and after discovering the F1 had no elevator were fortunate to be able to relocate to two first floor rooms, considering we had about 8 pieces of luggage between us all (including the in-laws). The in-laws and JE took one room and Liz & I and the bunny took the other. The rooms were very basic but cheap, and given that we really were walking distance from Tullamarine it wasn't a bad choice of hotel, just we had far too much luggage. It's probably an excellent choice for the economically-minded businessman traveling light. After getting settled in to our room I headed over to the airport and "borrowed" a couple of luggage carts, which I parked in our room ready for the next morning. Breakfast was a cheap $6 Continental provided by the F1, but given that breakfast at the nearby McD's would have cost the same (if not more) but with less food, it was the more economical choice. Then we hoofed it over to Tulla.
We checked in about 2 hours before departure time, smooth as silk (unlike LAX) and still got 4 seats together. The in-laws asked about switching to our flight (theirs was going via Aukland) but it would have required spending a few extra (hundred) dollars, so they got to visit New Zealand (Intl. Airport) for a couple of hours. Although they left just 30 minutes later than us, they touched down at LAX over 3 hours later, due to their NZ stopover.
At the wedding reception the previous Saturday, a cousin-in-law mentioned Emirates Airlines as being an extremely comfortable (pampering) airline to fly. Given that a lot of Big Oil probably flies Emirates, that's completely understandable, and from a fatalistic point of view, I honestly can't see Muslim terrorists targeting Emirates Airlines and daring to incur the wrath of their megarich brothers, so it's possibly one of the safest airlines to fly, as well. The CIL said Emirates allegedly provided even better service than Qantas, and he's probably right, I think Qantas' service, while still among the best in the industry, has slipped somewhat during the past few years.
We caught a shuttle home from LAX, a remarkably painless affair. $70 to be delivered to our door, and in a very quick time as traffic was the lightest I've ever seen it. In fact it was downright spooky to see just a handful of cars on the freeways at 8:30am on a Monday morning. Sure, it's Labor Day, an almost nationwide Public Holiday, but still. "It's quiet. Too quiet."
Finally home it still wasn't time to rest. Our bathroom looks awesome with the new shower stall in place of the old bathtub. It's a lot more open now, for a small bathroom. I would have liked the toilet moved into the corner but the plumber said it would have violated a building code by not having enough space between the toilet seat and the walls. Liz freaked out because all the items left on the bathroom counter were covered in dust, but given that the Plumber was a family friend and we barely paid him for the work (we paid for the materials, new toilet, floor tiles, shower stall, etc, but I don't think we paid him) I said we could hardly complain. Liz complained anyway. She likes to complain. Sometimes I don't think she's happy unless she's complaining. Weird, really, coz she's not really happy then, either. Or maybe she is.
While Liz cleaned house I went and cleaned out our Post Office box of two weeks of mail then picked up Anzac, and was happy to hear the girls apparently bring him out for a bit of a walk every day. In fact one of the girls said she usually gives him the run of the office during the day on weekends. It's a good boarding kennel because it's also his vet, and they do grooming as well so we get him bathed before I pick him up.
After dropping Anzac back home I still hadn't finished my errands. The weather report on the plane as we were landing said temperatures of 40C+ and it sure felt like it as I headed back out to get some milk and lunch. I don't like to run the A/C in my car if I can avoid it so I was sweating like a pig by the time I finally got back home.
After lunch we all took a nap (except for JE), and when I got up I emptied the suitcases of my comics and trading cards (watch this space for eBay auctions ;) Over the years I've accumulated more than 6 photocopy boxes full of comics. I have easily 1000+ comics, including quite a few Capt. America comics, which may be worth a small bit now that the Captain has been assassinated...unless "they" bring him back. Did I mention the 1.5 hour nap is all the sleep I've had in the last 24 hours? On the plane trip back I watched FF4:Silver Surfer, The Flying Scotsman, Borat, Ocean's Thirteen, and Blades of Glory. I'm only linking The Flying Scotsman because you should know of the others, but if you like bios (or Billy Boyd ;) it's worth checking out.
So, now we're home and somewhat unpacked, and fighting the ants which have still come in looking for food & water (even though we've been gone for two weeks), and for some reason with just the four of us here...the house seems strangely quiet. Even when we were down in Munro at Keith's place with just the six of us there (Mum & Keith and the four of us), the peace & quiet of slow life in a tiny country town (village, even) didn't seem as quiet as this quiet of our house right now.
It would be nice to move back to Australia, even to settle somewhere in Melbourne, but I can't see that happening unless we win the Lotto, because I'm doing too well here in L.A. to start all over again in Melbourne.
Did I mention it was my birthday while we were there? Being a Rowan Atkinson fan my family got me Mr. Bean's Holiday. No, we never went to the movies. Bean's Holiday was released pretty much everywhere but the U.S. many months ago, so it was already available on DVD in Australia. So while everyone else is watching Bean in the theatres here, I watched it in Australia on DVD, and I have it on the TV here, right now, because the kids love the physical comedy of Mr. Bean as well. In fact The Whole Bean (the complete set of the TV series) always accompanies us and the portable DVD player on long car rides.
Anyway, it's now gone 7pm, so it's time to get the kids some dinner and get them into bed, even though it really doesn't feel that late. That's Jet Lag for you.
Carol & Zac drove us down to the City last night (which was actually about 36 hours ago, now), we stopped at Kim & Shaun's place, had our Fish & Chip dinner, and after a tearful farewell Carol & Zac drove us on to the Formule 1 Hotel located a short walk from Tullamarine. We checked in and got two rooms on the third floor, and after discovering the F1 had no elevator were fortunate to be able to relocate to two first floor rooms, considering we had about 8 pieces of luggage between us all (including the in-laws). The in-laws and JE took one room and Liz & I and the bunny took the other. The rooms were very basic but cheap, and given that we really were walking distance from Tullamarine it wasn't a bad choice of hotel, just we had far too much luggage. It's probably an excellent choice for the economically-minded businessman traveling light. After getting settled in to our room I headed over to the airport and "borrowed" a couple of luggage carts, which I parked in our room ready for the next morning. Breakfast was a cheap $6 Continental provided by the F1, but given that breakfast at the nearby McD's would have cost the same (if not more) but with less food, it was the more economical choice. Then we hoofed it over to Tulla.
We checked in about 2 hours before departure time, smooth as silk (unlike LAX) and still got 4 seats together. The in-laws asked about switching to our flight (theirs was going via Aukland) but it would have required spending a few extra (hundred) dollars, so they got to visit New Zealand (Intl. Airport) for a couple of hours. Although they left just 30 minutes later than us, they touched down at LAX over 3 hours later, due to their NZ stopover.
At the wedding reception the previous Saturday, a cousin-in-law mentioned Emirates Airlines as being an extremely comfortable (pampering) airline to fly. Given that a lot of Big Oil probably flies Emirates, that's completely understandable, and from a fatalistic point of view, I honestly can't see Muslim terrorists targeting Emirates Airlines and daring to incur the wrath of their megarich brothers, so it's possibly one of the safest airlines to fly, as well. The CIL said Emirates allegedly provided even better service than Qantas, and he's probably right, I think Qantas' service, while still among the best in the industry, has slipped somewhat during the past few years.
We caught a shuttle home from LAX, a remarkably painless affair. $70 to be delivered to our door, and in a very quick time as traffic was the lightest I've ever seen it. In fact it was downright spooky to see just a handful of cars on the freeways at 8:30am on a Monday morning. Sure, it's Labor Day, an almost nationwide Public Holiday, but still. "It's quiet. Too quiet."
Finally home it still wasn't time to rest. Our bathroom looks awesome with the new shower stall in place of the old bathtub. It's a lot more open now, for a small bathroom. I would have liked the toilet moved into the corner but the plumber said it would have violated a building code by not having enough space between the toilet seat and the walls. Liz freaked out because all the items left on the bathroom counter were covered in dust, but given that the Plumber was a family friend and we barely paid him for the work (we paid for the materials, new toilet, floor tiles, shower stall, etc, but I don't think we paid him) I said we could hardly complain. Liz complained anyway. She likes to complain. Sometimes I don't think she's happy unless she's complaining. Weird, really, coz she's not really happy then, either. Or maybe she is.
While Liz cleaned house I went and cleaned out our Post Office box of two weeks of mail then picked up Anzac, and was happy to hear the girls apparently bring him out for a bit of a walk every day. In fact one of the girls said she usually gives him the run of the office during the day on weekends. It's a good boarding kennel because it's also his vet, and they do grooming as well so we get him bathed before I pick him up.
After dropping Anzac back home I still hadn't finished my errands. The weather report on the plane as we were landing said temperatures of 40C+ and it sure felt like it as I headed back out to get some milk and lunch. I don't like to run the A/C in my car if I can avoid it so I was sweating like a pig by the time I finally got back home.
After lunch we all took a nap (except for JE), and when I got up I emptied the suitcases of my comics and trading cards (watch this space for eBay auctions ;) Over the years I've accumulated more than 6 photocopy boxes full of comics. I have easily 1000+ comics, including quite a few Capt. America comics, which may be worth a small bit now that the Captain has been assassinated...unless "they" bring him back. Did I mention the 1.5 hour nap is all the sleep I've had in the last 24 hours? On the plane trip back I watched FF4:Silver Surfer, The Flying Scotsman, Borat, Ocean's Thirteen, and Blades of Glory. I'm only linking The Flying Scotsman because you should know of the others, but if you like bios (or Billy Boyd ;) it's worth checking out.
So, now we're home and somewhat unpacked, and fighting the ants which have still come in looking for food & water (even though we've been gone for two weeks), and for some reason with just the four of us here...the house seems strangely quiet. Even when we were down in Munro at Keith's place with just the six of us there (Mum & Keith and the four of us), the peace & quiet of slow life in a tiny country town (village, even) didn't seem as quiet as this quiet of our house right now.
It would be nice to move back to Australia, even to settle somewhere in Melbourne, but I can't see that happening unless we win the Lotto, because I'm doing too well here in L.A. to start all over again in Melbourne.
Did I mention it was my birthday while we were there? Being a Rowan Atkinson fan my family got me Mr. Bean's Holiday. No, we never went to the movies. Bean's Holiday was released pretty much everywhere but the U.S. many months ago, so it was already available on DVD in Australia. So while everyone else is watching Bean in the theatres here, I watched it in Australia on DVD, and I have it on the TV here, right now, because the kids love the physical comedy of Mr. Bean as well. In fact The Whole Bean (the complete set of the TV series) always accompanies us and the portable DVD player on long car rides.
Anyway, it's now gone 7pm, so it's time to get the kids some dinner and get them into bed, even though it really doesn't feel that late. That's Jet Lag for you.
Sunday, September 02, 2007
And here we go again
We're about 15 hours away from flying back to L.A.
We're currently at my sister's house in Melbourne and in a short while will be heading to a local Fish & Chip shop for our last genuine Australian meal. Sure, you can get Fish & Chips in most countries, but every country has their own version so it's not the same as what you get at home.
The time has gone by so fast and we didn't do anywhere near as much as I would have liked, never visited some of the people I wanted to. There's an old friend I never caught up with, and I regret that.
We get back to LAX Monday morning and I'll be back at work the next day. Two weeks vacation gone by, just like that.
See you all on the east side of the Pond.
We're currently at my sister's house in Melbourne and in a short while will be heading to a local Fish & Chip shop for our last genuine Australian meal. Sure, you can get Fish & Chips in most countries, but every country has their own version so it's not the same as what you get at home.
The time has gone by so fast and we didn't do anywhere near as much as I would have liked, never visited some of the people I wanted to. There's an old friend I never caught up with, and I regret that.
We get back to LAX Monday morning and I'll be back at work the next day. Two weeks vacation gone by, just like that.
See you all on the east side of the Pond.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
So far, so good
We spent the first night in Traralgon and the next morning headed out to Munro where Mum's fiance lives. The kids had a great time there, JE rode Keith's 3-wheeled motorscooter up and down the road out the front of his property while the Bunny took a turn sitting on the ponies out the back (pictures to come). There was numerous wildlife around, deer in the paddock up the road, lots of birds, including some cockatoos that are considering nesting in a tree at the bottom of Keith's backyard. Glenn, Keith's son, took us for a drive in his truck up through the forest, roo spotting, although we only got a good sighting of one wallaby as we rounded one bend and pretty much nothing else. Glenn took us to a couple of graves buried deep within the forest, discovered by the Rangers who have set up a memorial around it. Apparently they belong to mother and her son who were killed in a flood over 150 years ago. They were members of one of the first families to settle in the Gippsland region, and like many early pioneers paid the ultimate price in taming the land for those to follow.
Friday we headed back into Traralgon, briefly, before continuing back on to Melbourne to stay with my older sister and her family. We visited the Melbourne Aquarium, the Zoo, did a spot of shopping in the City, and while waiting for our train at the Southern Cross Station (formerly Spencer St.) got caught in a football crowd getting out of the Essendon Bombers & Western Bulldogs game. It was quite an experience for Liz, standing on the platform surrounded by a sea of people in Red & Black, and Red, White & Blue jumpers, scarves, hats, etc. Of course when the train arrived everyone boarded, so we were packed in and standing up for about half our ride back to my sister's house.
After a few days we headed back down to Traralgon. I drove down with the Bunny taking a nap, while everyone else rode the train down, taking in the sights.
Now Liz's parents are in town as well. The FIL is here sort of looking after the kids, while the MIL is down the street with Liz and my sisters, shopping, getting their hair done, nails, eyebrows, etc., all in preparation for the big day this Saturday.
Friday we headed back into Traralgon, briefly, before continuing back on to Melbourne to stay with my older sister and her family. We visited the Melbourne Aquarium, the Zoo, did a spot of shopping in the City, and while waiting for our train at the Southern Cross Station (formerly Spencer St.) got caught in a football crowd getting out of the Essendon Bombers & Western Bulldogs game. It was quite an experience for Liz, standing on the platform surrounded by a sea of people in Red & Black, and Red, White & Blue jumpers, scarves, hats, etc. Of course when the train arrived everyone boarded, so we were packed in and standing up for about half our ride back to my sister's house.
After a few days we headed back down to Traralgon. I drove down with the Bunny taking a nap, while everyone else rode the train down, taking in the sights.
Now Liz's parents are in town as well. The FIL is here sort of looking after the kids, while the MIL is down the street with Liz and my sisters, shopping, getting their hair done, nails, eyebrows, etc., all in preparation for the big day this Saturday.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Almost 20 hours later
and here we are.
The shuttle picked us up around 6:45pm and got us to LAX within 30 minutes, pretty good time, I thought, for a flight scheduled to leave around 11:40pm, 4 hours later. 11:15pm came and we hadn't yet begun boarding the plane, something to do with the Jetway at that gate. Finally the plane was towed out and back in to another gate where we were able to board, but we never made it off the ground. The take-off was aborted and we returned to the gate so an engineer could examine our plane. Over 3 hours later than scheduled we finally took off and were on our way to Australia.
We were met by my older sister, my Mum, and my future stepfather, who took us to my sister's for a lunch we'd been waiting 2 years for. Fish & Chips :)
We relaxed for an hour or so after lunch, then piled in the car and headed out to the Latrobe Valley and Mum's home. Practically a 2 hours drive on top of our 14 1/2 plane ride (not counting the 3+ hours delay). We managed to get a spot of sleep on the plane, but not much more than a couple of hours, so now we are pretty much running on empty, and just trying to hang on to a decent hour to go to bed so our body clocks adjust to Aussie Time.
The shuttle picked us up around 6:45pm and got us to LAX within 30 minutes, pretty good time, I thought, for a flight scheduled to leave around 11:40pm, 4 hours later. 11:15pm came and we hadn't yet begun boarding the plane, something to do with the Jetway at that gate. Finally the plane was towed out and back in to another gate where we were able to board, but we never made it off the ground. The take-off was aborted and we returned to the gate so an engineer could examine our plane. Over 3 hours later than scheduled we finally took off and were on our way to Australia.
We were met by my older sister, my Mum, and my future stepfather, who took us to my sister's for a lunch we'd been waiting 2 years for. Fish & Chips :)
We relaxed for an hour or so after lunch, then piled in the car and headed out to the Latrobe Valley and Mum's home. Practically a 2 hours drive on top of our 14 1/2 plane ride (not counting the 3+ hours delay). We managed to get a spot of sleep on the plane, but not much more than a couple of hours, so now we are pretty much running on empty, and just trying to hang on to a decent hour to go to bed so our body clocks adjust to Aussie Time.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Life is like eating an elephant
I have a very good friend in hospital, I'm leaving for Australia next weekend, I'm working OT every day and have been for the past 2 1/2 weeks, and my Mum is getting married in 3 weeks time. Sometimes the only way to get through life is one bite at a time, which is also the same way you eat an elephant.
I got that 1,000 marbles email the other day. About the fellow who figured out that based on average life-expectancy he had about 1,000 Saturdays left to spend with his family, so he bought every marble he could find in three Toy Stores to get 1,000 marbles, which he kept in a jar and took one out every Saturday. As the level of marbles slowly decreased he said it helped him focus more on what was important in his life.
My father's parents both passed away when I was fairly young. I don't recall if they made it in to their 70s but I don't think they did. My father passed away at 62 years of age. My Mum's father died when she was still young but that may have been an accidental death rather than an illness (I honestly don't know). Of course my paternal grandfather was an alcoholic and had suffered from Alzheimer's before I knew him. My paternal grandmother was a habitual smoker until her final years. My own father had numerous things going on with him and we're still not sure exactly what was the cause of death, but there were several to choose from.
I didn't mention that I turn 38 in two weeks times. Two times 38 is 76. Seventy-six. If I make it to seventy-six years old I'll have had a good innings. If I make it to my eighties, I'll consider that a bloody miracle. Like my dad I've had my brushes with death over the years. At least three that I can recall where Death probably glanced my way and said, "NOT HIM, NOT YET."
In 38 years time my son will be 45 and my daughter 40 (Good Lord!), and if they bless me with grandchildren (Oh, revenge! Sweet, sweet revenge! >:) they'll possibly be in their teens.
Thirty-eight years. Fifty-two Saturdays per year. That's one thousand, nine hundred, and seventy-six Saturdays. And if I manage to empty that jar of marbles and I wake up the next day, that's a bonus; that's one more day I've been given to spend with my family.
*EDIT - I looked at my father's memoir and saw both his parents lived well into their 80s, despite alcoholism and smoking like chimneys, so this old dog might have a few years in him yet ;)
I got that 1,000 marbles email the other day. About the fellow who figured out that based on average life-expectancy he had about 1,000 Saturdays left to spend with his family, so he bought every marble he could find in three Toy Stores to get 1,000 marbles, which he kept in a jar and took one out every Saturday. As the level of marbles slowly decreased he said it helped him focus more on what was important in his life.
My father's parents both passed away when I was fairly young. I don't recall if they made it in to their 70s but I don't think they did. My father passed away at 62 years of age. My Mum's father died when she was still young but that may have been an accidental death rather than an illness (I honestly don't know). Of course my paternal grandfather was an alcoholic and had suffered from Alzheimer's before I knew him. My paternal grandmother was a habitual smoker until her final years. My own father had numerous things going on with him and we're still not sure exactly what was the cause of death, but there were several to choose from.
I didn't mention that I turn 38 in two weeks times. Two times 38 is 76. Seventy-six. If I make it to seventy-six years old I'll have had a good innings. If I make it to my eighties, I'll consider that a bloody miracle. Like my dad I've had my brushes with death over the years. At least three that I can recall where Death probably glanced my way and said, "NOT HIM, NOT YET."
In 38 years time my son will be 45 and my daughter 40 (Good Lord!), and if they bless me with grandchildren (Oh, revenge! Sweet, sweet revenge! >:) they'll possibly be in their teens.
Thirty-eight years. Fifty-two Saturdays per year. That's one thousand, nine hundred, and seventy-six Saturdays. And if I manage to empty that jar of marbles and I wake up the next day, that's a bonus; that's one more day I've been given to spend with my family.
*EDIT - I looked at my father's memoir and saw both his parents lived well into their 80s, despite alcoholism and smoking like chimneys, so this old dog might have a few years in him yet ;)
Thursday, August 09, 2007
A tacky act for a sick kitty?
This afternoon one of the ladies at work, through one of the guys, sent out an email asking for help with a stray kitty she took in. Kitty has a skin disorder of some kind, and the Vet has told her it will cost about $500 to treat it, so the email asked for monetary contributions to help the lady pay for kitty's treatment.
You take in a stray kitty then ask your coworkers for help to pay for medical treatment? I thought about it for just long enough to hit Delete, then promptly put it out of my mind.
Then a folder arrived on my desk, with a picture of the kitty and a reprint of the email. This is the preferred method in our office of passing around a card (birthday, retirement, etc) with a collection envelope to raise funds for a gift for said birthday, retirement, etc.
The lady who brought me the folder asked if I'd seen it.
Aah, yeah, I've seen it, I said. I meant I'd seen the email, but I didn't care that my reply was misinterpreted, and the lady took the folder away. What I forgot was that normally a list accompanies these folders, a list of everyone's name, and before you pass on the folder you check off your name so the next poor sap to get the folder can pick a victim to keep the folder moving.
So the folder arrived back at my desk. This time I knew better, and I checked off my name before looking down the list for my victim. Aah, here was a name of someone who was still in the office and hadn't left for the day.
I took the folder around to this lady and handed it over, but I just couldn't contain the evilness within me that sometimes materializes as a dark, macabre sense of humor.
"She's raising money to have the kitty put down," I said, winking at my victim. She looked at me and gasped, but she has a wicked sense of humor, too, so she knew I was joking and found it funny in a dark, macabre, totally inappropriate way. "It's cheaper than the operation," I added, and we both shared an "Oooohhh," moment as I left her with the folder, and the list, and the envelope full of money, and her conscience.
Now before you say to me, "John, you've got a dog. What if he needed an operation? Wouldn't you ask your coworkers for money to pay for it?"
No, I would not.
I'd either find the money, or I'd have him put down. And if the Vet is incredulous that this is a simple, relatively inexpensive operation, but I'm choosing to have the animal put down instead, it's this simple. It's a dog. It's a pet. It's family, but not quite, and I'm not spending money on an operation our family can't afford, just for a pet. I'd sell everything necessary if my wife or kids needed an operation, but this is a pet we're talking about. And yes, I would hit up my coworkers for money for a life saving operation for my wife or kids, but not for a pet.
I had no issue with the woman sending out the email asking for help. It was a simple matter to hit Delete. But I had serious issues with her then passing around a collection envelope because it was obvious nobody cared enough about her stray pet cat to come by and give her money.
So when I said putting the kitty down was cheaper than the operation, I wasn't quite joking. Sometimes you have to weigh up your alternatives and say, yes, this is a tough decision, but when the alternative means going in to debt, and possibly losing my car or my house, that's not an alternative at all.
You take in a stray kitty then ask your coworkers for help to pay for medical treatment? I thought about it for just long enough to hit Delete, then promptly put it out of my mind.
Then a folder arrived on my desk, with a picture of the kitty and a reprint of the email. This is the preferred method in our office of passing around a card (birthday, retirement, etc) with a collection envelope to raise funds for a gift for said birthday, retirement, etc.
The lady who brought me the folder asked if I'd seen it.
Aah, yeah, I've seen it, I said. I meant I'd seen the email, but I didn't care that my reply was misinterpreted, and the lady took the folder away. What I forgot was that normally a list accompanies these folders, a list of everyone's name, and before you pass on the folder you check off your name so the next poor sap to get the folder can pick a victim to keep the folder moving.
So the folder arrived back at my desk. This time I knew better, and I checked off my name before looking down the list for my victim. Aah, here was a name of someone who was still in the office and hadn't left for the day.
I took the folder around to this lady and handed it over, but I just couldn't contain the evilness within me that sometimes materializes as a dark, macabre sense of humor.
"She's raising money to have the kitty put down," I said, winking at my victim. She looked at me and gasped, but she has a wicked sense of humor, too, so she knew I was joking and found it funny in a dark, macabre, totally inappropriate way. "It's cheaper than the operation," I added, and we both shared an "Oooohhh," moment as I left her with the folder, and the list, and the envelope full of money, and her conscience.
Now before you say to me, "John, you've got a dog. What if he needed an operation? Wouldn't you ask your coworkers for money to pay for it?"
No, I would not.
I'd either find the money, or I'd have him put down. And if the Vet is incredulous that this is a simple, relatively inexpensive operation, but I'm choosing to have the animal put down instead, it's this simple. It's a dog. It's a pet. It's family, but not quite, and I'm not spending money on an operation our family can't afford, just for a pet. I'd sell everything necessary if my wife or kids needed an operation, but this is a pet we're talking about. And yes, I would hit up my coworkers for money for a life saving operation for my wife or kids, but not for a pet.
I had no issue with the woman sending out the email asking for help. It was a simple matter to hit Delete. But I had serious issues with her then passing around a collection envelope because it was obvious nobody cared enough about her stray pet cat to come by and give her money.
So when I said putting the kitty down was cheaper than the operation, I wasn't quite joking. Sometimes you have to weigh up your alternatives and say, yes, this is a tough decision, but when the alternative means going in to debt, and possibly losing my car or my house, that's not an alternative at all.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Knott's Berry Farm
Tonight after work we took the kids down to Knott's Berry Farm, and despite it being summer it was relatively empty and the kids were able to practically walk on to most of the rides as soon as they joined the queue. They also played a couple of the games, one had them picking out a plastic duck to win a prize, depending on the number of the bottom of the duck. For $5 they got three picks but they sort of had more than that because as soon as they saw the ducks they were grabbing them all. I handed over $5 and JE promptly showed the guy his duck, which had a #3 on it. Good lad. Amber turned over a #1 but the guy gave her a #2 sized prize because he said she'd turned over two #1 ducks, which she probably had...actually she'd turned over even more than that :D
JE also did the Strong Man challenge where you swing a large mallet and try to make the bell ring. He got an inflatable hammer for his effort and I almost passed out blowing it up for him :}
I rode with the kids on one ride, then Liz took them on the Merry Go Round, and while watching them go around memories came back of a childhood summer spent at Lakes Entrance in Victoria, where my grandparents currently reside. Every summer there is a carnival at Lakes Entrance, and it's also become one of the hot spots to see in the New Year. Or at least it used to be, not sure if it still is. As well as the carnival there was always a huge fireworks show right before midnight and the road along the esplanade would be closed as people lined up to watch the fireworks being set off from a barge in the estuary.
Many years ago one of my uncles was working the lucky ticket booth at the carnival. It was an early version of the lotto scratchies. You bought a ticket and peeled open the cardboard flap, and if the number revealed was one of the lucky numbers on the giant board you won a prize, probably cash. For some reason I have a feeling that my uncle had told my father he'd make sure he won, but the ticket he got was not a winner. I think this made my father mad at my uncle and we didn't go in to the carnival. Being a very young lad with a child's twisted sense of logic I recall thinking that because we hadn't won that meant we couldn't go in. I do remember asking my parents about that but they didn't seem to want to talk about it, which is probably why I think my dad was angry with my uncle.
I don't remember where we went, probably visited a few of the stores along the esplanade, but on our way back we did stop and spend some time at the carnival. Admission was free, you just paid for the rides and sideshow games. You actually bought a sheet of tickets for the rides and just tore off what you needed for that particular ride. I remember that we had some tickets left over at the end of the night, and before we left my parents gave the remaining tickets to another man for his family. I do the same thing myself now, although I think the actual physical tickets are getting phased out. The OC Fair had signs saying "This ride X tickets", etc, but they were actually credits on a magnetic card that you swiped each time you entered a ride, and when you ran out of "tickets" or credits you just recharged the card at the "ticket" booth.
Back to the past and the Lakes Entrance carnival. I had a turn on a Merry Go Round, but this one was a rather strange Merry Go Round. Instead of animals it had bicycles that you pedaled as the Merry Go Round turned. The lower platform was fixed in place and the bikes' wheels would actually turn as you rode around. Before the ride began I remember pushing on the pedals with all my might and I recall the Merry Go Round turning a little bit. My father also took a turn at the shooting gallery with the air rifles (BB guns). They were real working air rifles that you don't see these days for all sorts of legality issues, but back then you paid your $2 and got 4 pellets and you had to knock over 4 metal ducks to win a prize. 3 didn't cut it, you had to make every shot count. Being a more than decent shot my father was able to win a couple of prizes at the shooting gallery, and when I was older I followed in his food steps and the shooting gallery was always a guaranteed prize-winner for me. It's also a macho thing among guys visiting the carnival together, or maybe just with country boys where shooting comes as natural as breathing; if your mates can knock over 4 ducks you better be able to as well, or you can expect to get teased for the rest of the night ;)
So my memories of my childhood carnivals are mostly good, and I hope tonight's trip to Knott's will be remembered equally as fondly by my two children, even if remembering that carnival from yesteryear did make me a little melancholy.
JE also did the Strong Man challenge where you swing a large mallet and try to make the bell ring. He got an inflatable hammer for his effort and I almost passed out blowing it up for him :}
I rode with the kids on one ride, then Liz took them on the Merry Go Round, and while watching them go around memories came back of a childhood summer spent at Lakes Entrance in Victoria, where my grandparents currently reside. Every summer there is a carnival at Lakes Entrance, and it's also become one of the hot spots to see in the New Year. Or at least it used to be, not sure if it still is. As well as the carnival there was always a huge fireworks show right before midnight and the road along the esplanade would be closed as people lined up to watch the fireworks being set off from a barge in the estuary.
Many years ago one of my uncles was working the lucky ticket booth at the carnival. It was an early version of the lotto scratchies. You bought a ticket and peeled open the cardboard flap, and if the number revealed was one of the lucky numbers on the giant board you won a prize, probably cash. For some reason I have a feeling that my uncle had told my father he'd make sure he won, but the ticket he got was not a winner. I think this made my father mad at my uncle and we didn't go in to the carnival. Being a very young lad with a child's twisted sense of logic I recall thinking that because we hadn't won that meant we couldn't go in. I do remember asking my parents about that but they didn't seem to want to talk about it, which is probably why I think my dad was angry with my uncle.
I don't remember where we went, probably visited a few of the stores along the esplanade, but on our way back we did stop and spend some time at the carnival. Admission was free, you just paid for the rides and sideshow games. You actually bought a sheet of tickets for the rides and just tore off what you needed for that particular ride. I remember that we had some tickets left over at the end of the night, and before we left my parents gave the remaining tickets to another man for his family. I do the same thing myself now, although I think the actual physical tickets are getting phased out. The OC Fair had signs saying "This ride X tickets", etc, but they were actually credits on a magnetic card that you swiped each time you entered a ride, and when you ran out of "tickets" or credits you just recharged the card at the "ticket" booth.
Back to the past and the Lakes Entrance carnival. I had a turn on a Merry Go Round, but this one was a rather strange Merry Go Round. Instead of animals it had bicycles that you pedaled as the Merry Go Round turned. The lower platform was fixed in place and the bikes' wheels would actually turn as you rode around. Before the ride began I remember pushing on the pedals with all my might and I recall the Merry Go Round turning a little bit. My father also took a turn at the shooting gallery with the air rifles (BB guns). They were real working air rifles that you don't see these days for all sorts of legality issues, but back then you paid your $2 and got 4 pellets and you had to knock over 4 metal ducks to win a prize. 3 didn't cut it, you had to make every shot count. Being a more than decent shot my father was able to win a couple of prizes at the shooting gallery, and when I was older I followed in his food steps and the shooting gallery was always a guaranteed prize-winner for me. It's also a macho thing among guys visiting the carnival together, or maybe just with country boys where shooting comes as natural as breathing; if your mates can knock over 4 ducks you better be able to as well, or you can expect to get teased for the rest of the night ;)
So my memories of my childhood carnivals are mostly good, and I hope tonight's trip to Knott's will be remembered equally as fondly by my two children, even if remembering that carnival from yesteryear did make me a little melancholy.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Something strange...in your neighborhood
Last week Liz came to bed around 2am or so and woke me up looking for her book. She likes to read before going to sleep but her book could not be found and after a brief but thorough search (meaning I was kicked out of bed to help look) Liz reluctantly retired without reading. Over the next couple of days, when we had a spare moment, we looked for the book. I even lay down on the floor and looked under the bed and under the bedside tables, but the book could not be found. Strange.
A couple of nights ago I was woken up by a tap on my shoulder, so I rolled over and asked Liz what she wanted. With her head buried in a new book Liz didn't reply. Grumpy from being woken up at 2am and pissed off that Liz had promptly gone back to reading her new book I got a little snappy. Finally Liz responded and denied tapping me on the shoulder. Grrr. It's a good thing I can go straight back to sleep when I want to, because I did just that. But I was sure she'd tapped me on the shoulder.
Last night Liz came to bed and showed me her old book. It had been lying on the floor under her bedside table, where we'd both looked several times and somehow failed to see it. Liz said it was actually standing up on one edge, not lying flat. So somehow both of us failed to see a very obvious book standing up on one edge, several times.
But then things in our house have a habit of disappearing for a day or two, then reappearing in quite obvious spots as if they've been lying there all along and we've just somehow failed to see them. We would joke that it was a ghost hiding them. With the disappearance of the book last week, and it's reappearance in a spot where it's impossible to have overlooked it, the ghost explanation may be closer to the truth than we thought. Then again, we also have two young kids ;)
A couple of nights ago I was woken up by a tap on my shoulder, so I rolled over and asked Liz what she wanted. With her head buried in a new book Liz didn't reply. Grumpy from being woken up at 2am and pissed off that Liz had promptly gone back to reading her new book I got a little snappy. Finally Liz responded and denied tapping me on the shoulder. Grrr. It's a good thing I can go straight back to sleep when I want to, because I did just that. But I was sure she'd tapped me on the shoulder.
Last night Liz came to bed and showed me her old book. It had been lying on the floor under her bedside table, where we'd both looked several times and somehow failed to see it. Liz said it was actually standing up on one edge, not lying flat. So somehow both of us failed to see a very obvious book standing up on one edge, several times.
But then things in our house have a habit of disappearing for a day or two, then reappearing in quite obvious spots as if they've been lying there all along and we've just somehow failed to see them. We would joke that it was a ghost hiding them. With the disappearance of the book last week, and it's reappearance in a spot where it's impossible to have overlooked it, the ghost explanation may be closer to the truth than we thought. Then again, we also have two young kids ;)
Sunday, August 05, 2007
Something in the air?
I took JE to watch The Simpson's movie Saturday morning, and after dropping him with the in-laws, Liz and I decided to call Xinh to see if she wanted to see The Bourne Ultimatum Sunday morning. I got her voicemail so I left a msg asking if she wanted to watch the movie with us, unless she wasn't feeling well. I don't know why I said that.
Shortly after leaving the message my phone rang. It was Xinh. She didn't sound well. She was calling from hospital. After having abdominal pains Monday she'd gone home but she wasn't better on Tuesday, so she called her doctor who had called in sick as well. Wednesday, feeling even worse, she went in to ER and stayed there almost all day without being seen. Late in the evening someone who'd been there several hours prior to her also hadn't been seen, so Xinh went home and returned the next day. Finally she was examined and checked in under suspicion of appendicitis. She signed a form for a laparoscopic appendectomy with the option to open her up in case they found something more serious, which they did. They found a perforated intestine and an abscess the size of a cantaloupe, which is not a small fruit.
Liz and I pretty much canceled any plans and headed off to the hospital. Xinh was recovering ok but had not been able to rest because she couldn't get in to a comfortable position and the nurses hadn't been willing to go through the rigmarole Xinh felt was required to get her into a comfortable position. After raising and lowering Xinh's bed a few times, rolling her back and forth a couple of times, sliding pillows under various parts of her anatomy (I'm a good friend, but Liz took care of that assignment), we finally got Xinh into a position in which she felt comfortable.
With the battery in her cell phone running low, and it being Xinh's only contact to the outside world, we called her friend Natey (who'd already taken Xinh's dog to the kennel) and he stopped by her apartment and picked up her charger and came in. Another friend, Susan, also stopped by, and with four of us there now (five including Xinh) Liz and I decided to take our leave.
I couldn't resist snapping a picture of the room next to Xinh's. She's staying on the 6th floor of the hospital, and the room next to her we felt should have gone the same way of the 13th floor in most buildings.
Yup, that's the room next to Xinh's room at the hospital >:)
Notice how blurry it is? It's like it didn't want me taking its picture ;)
Shortly after leaving the message my phone rang. It was Xinh. She didn't sound well. She was calling from hospital. After having abdominal pains Monday she'd gone home but she wasn't better on Tuesday, so she called her doctor who had called in sick as well. Wednesday, feeling even worse, she went in to ER and stayed there almost all day without being seen. Late in the evening someone who'd been there several hours prior to her also hadn't been seen, so Xinh went home and returned the next day. Finally she was examined and checked in under suspicion of appendicitis. She signed a form for a laparoscopic appendectomy with the option to open her up in case they found something more serious, which they did. They found a perforated intestine and an abscess the size of a cantaloupe, which is not a small fruit.
Liz and I pretty much canceled any plans and headed off to the hospital. Xinh was recovering ok but had not been able to rest because she couldn't get in to a comfortable position and the nurses hadn't been willing to go through the rigmarole Xinh felt was required to get her into a comfortable position. After raising and lowering Xinh's bed a few times, rolling her back and forth a couple of times, sliding pillows under various parts of her anatomy (I'm a good friend, but Liz took care of that assignment), we finally got Xinh into a position in which she felt comfortable.
With the battery in her cell phone running low, and it being Xinh's only contact to the outside world, we called her friend Natey (who'd already taken Xinh's dog to the kennel) and he stopped by her apartment and picked up her charger and came in. Another friend, Susan, also stopped by, and with four of us there now (five including Xinh) Liz and I decided to take our leave.
I couldn't resist snapping a picture of the room next to Xinh's. She's staying on the 6th floor of the hospital, and the room next to her we felt should have gone the same way of the 13th floor in most buildings.
Yup, that's the room next to Xinh's room at the hospital >:)
Notice how blurry it is? It's like it didn't want me taking its picture ;)
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Buying a Kilt, pt II
Dr. Nicholas Fiddes has written an excellent guide to buying a Kilt, and it explains a lot about Kilts, tartans, the naming of such, and so on. Very useful information, and he's actually made his 58-page book(let) available online, free of charge, in Adobe's PDF formart. You can get it here, if you're interested.
And if you'd like to do a search of your own family name, to see if you happen to have a family/clan tartan, the Scottish Tartan Authority has an excellent tartan search site here.
Considering I want a good Kilt in the Fraser tartan, and an order for a good kilt in a select design can sometimes take a couple of months to be filled, I don't think I'll be wearing a Kilt at Mum's wedding. Not sure Mum, or my sisters for that matter, would have been willing to let me do so without a fight, anyway. It might have appeared a little disruptive.
But that's not stopped my desire for one...even if I do only wear it once or twice a year. Considering St. Andrew's Day (the patron Saint of Scotland) is November 30, if I did special order a Fraser Kilt I would have it in time to wear to work for St. Andrew's Day. That would be rather brave of me, I think.
Oh, except looking at my calendar, November 30 falls on a Friday this year, and that Friday just happens to be my Rostered Day Off. No Kilt for St. Andrew's Day this year. I might still send out an office-wide email on Thursday, November 29 telling everyone to remember to wear their family's tartan for St. Andrew's Day ;)
And if you'd like to do a search of your own family name, to see if you happen to have a family/clan tartan, the Scottish Tartan Authority has an excellent tartan search site here.
Considering I want a good Kilt in the Fraser tartan, and an order for a good kilt in a select design can sometimes take a couple of months to be filled, I don't think I'll be wearing a Kilt at Mum's wedding. Not sure Mum, or my sisters for that matter, would have been willing to let me do so without a fight, anyway. It might have appeared a little disruptive.
But that's not stopped my desire for one...even if I do only wear it once or twice a year. Considering St. Andrew's Day (the patron Saint of Scotland) is November 30, if I did special order a Fraser Kilt I would have it in time to wear to work for St. Andrew's Day. That would be rather brave of me, I think.
Oh, except looking at my calendar, November 30 falls on a Friday this year, and that Friday just happens to be my Rostered Day Off. No Kilt for St. Andrew's Day this year. I might still send out an office-wide email on Thursday, November 29 telling everyone to remember to wear their family's tartan for St. Andrew's Day ;)
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Buying a Kilt
When my English ancestor came to Australia he brought with him a Scottish wife. Being English he had no clan, just a family name, but with his wife being Scottish her family name was also her clan name. As such there's no official tartan for my family, but there is a Fraser tartan, that being my great(x3) Grandmother's clan. While looking up kilts online I found they seem to be rather expensive. I can buy a decent suit for the same price as a single, good quality kilt...and that's just the kilt. That does nae include a sporran or any other kilt accessories.
Of course when I looked up the Fraser tartan I found there's not just the Fraser tartan, there's a Fraser Red Ancient tartan:
and a Fraser Red Modern tartan.
There's a Hunting tartan, a Muted tartan, and a Weathered tartan, and more, to boot, and then in the Fraser name alone, even under the name "Red Modern" there's different tartans yet again.
I have a tie of my father's in the Fraser tartan color, but I believe it's the Ancient Tartan, not the Modern tartan, which I think is the sharper of the two. The question is, do I get a kilt to match my father's tie? Or do I get a kilt in the color that I prefer, being the Modern Red? Considering I'd never wear the tie with the kilt, is it even necessary to match them? Then again, I can just hear my wife saying, "Why do you even need a kilt?"
And if my family name is English, why would I get a Scottish kilt? How important is the Fraser identity to me when that's not my name?
Our Scottish heritage was important to my father, and it being important to him means it's important to me. It was important enough to my father that he purchased a Fraser tartan tie. It was important enough to him that for years he wore a tam o'shanter, although he stopped wearing it when he realized it was no in the Fraser colors, and again that's how important it was to him; as much as he loved his tam he refused to wear one in the wrong colors.
It's probably too late to be getting a kilt now for me mother's wedding, and considering she wants me to walk her down the aisle, if I was going to be wearing a kilt for that auspicious ceremony it could nae just be the kilt; it would have to be the whole kilt & caboodle, including a jacket in the correct cut to accompany a kilt. But I fear that even if I were to don traditional Scottish garb for that occasion, it would take attention away from my mother, and it would also, later, take attention away from my wife, as difficult as that may be considering she looks FUCKING AMAZING! in the dress she finally picked out. And no, you can't see a picture, yet.
So there's no point me looking at kilts at this point in time, but maybe next St. Patrick's Day, at the local Gaelic Festival, I might pick up a Fraser kilt (even though the Festival is Irish and the Frasers are Scottish ;). And yes, as much as you don't want them now, there will be pictures ;)
Of course when I looked up the Fraser tartan I found there's not just the Fraser tartan, there's a Fraser Red Ancient tartan:
and a Fraser Red Modern tartan.
There's a Hunting tartan, a Muted tartan, and a Weathered tartan, and more, to boot, and then in the Fraser name alone, even under the name "Red Modern" there's different tartans yet again.
I have a tie of my father's in the Fraser tartan color, but I believe it's the Ancient Tartan, not the Modern tartan, which I think is the sharper of the two. The question is, do I get a kilt to match my father's tie? Or do I get a kilt in the color that I prefer, being the Modern Red? Considering I'd never wear the tie with the kilt, is it even necessary to match them? Then again, I can just hear my wife saying, "Why do you even need a kilt?"
And if my family name is English, why would I get a Scottish kilt? How important is the Fraser identity to me when that's not my name?
Our Scottish heritage was important to my father, and it being important to him means it's important to me. It was important enough to my father that he purchased a Fraser tartan tie. It was important enough to him that for years he wore a tam o'shanter, although he stopped wearing it when he realized it was no in the Fraser colors, and again that's how important it was to him; as much as he loved his tam he refused to wear one in the wrong colors.
It's probably too late to be getting a kilt now for me mother's wedding, and considering she wants me to walk her down the aisle, if I was going to be wearing a kilt for that auspicious ceremony it could nae just be the kilt; it would have to be the whole kilt & caboodle, including a jacket in the correct cut to accompany a kilt. But I fear that even if I were to don traditional Scottish garb for that occasion, it would take attention away from my mother, and it would also, later, take attention away from my wife, as difficult as that may be considering she looks FUCKING AMAZING! in the dress she finally picked out. And no, you can't see a picture, yet.
So there's no point me looking at kilts at this point in time, but maybe next St. Patrick's Day, at the local Gaelic Festival, I might pick up a Fraser kilt (even though the Festival is Irish and the Frasers are Scottish ;). And yes, as much as you don't want them now, there will be pictures ;)
Monday, July 30, 2007
Ding!!!
Saturday afternoon I finally got off my arse (figuratively speaking, not literally) and ground through the last half a million XP I needed to level my Dwarven Hunter to 70, the highest a character can (currently) go in the World of Warcraft. Being 70 meant I'd earned the right to fly a Gryphon everywhere, instead of stuck riding along the ground on my Battle Ram, and as soon as I could was tearing skywards on my Gryphon, not unlike Superman. Up, up, and away!
Apparently there's a ceiling but I never hit it, although the ground got pretty far away and I could only make out one or two buildings, so back down, down, down I went. The only problem is, and it's probably a gripe among all 70s, is that the lvl 60 Epic Mount runs faster than the lvl 70 Mount can fly. There's an "Epic" Flying Mount but he costs five times as much as the Regular version, although he apparently flies four times faster than the regular Flying Mount, and over twice as fast as the Epic Ground Mount. I go back to Australia in a few weeks time for my Mum's wedding. I wonder if that's enough time for a casual, hardcore gamer like me to accrue 5,000 gold coins? I'll probably end up doing nothing but killing Mobs for hours on end, day after day. Then again, I don't do much more than that in WoW anyway ;)
I know a couple of my Guildmates have the Epic Flying Mount on one of their toons, and with the daunting challenge of farming 5,000g in front of me, I can see why they only have it on one of their toons. A quick Google of "Buy WoW Gold" reveals that 5,000g can be bought for around $400. If I'm lucky, I can grind out that gold at approx. 100g/hour, but more likely we're looking at 80g/hour, or 60+ hours. For $400 that comes out to about $6.50/hour, or slightly more than Minimum Wage. On a somewhat positive note, I usually get in an average of 3 hours of WoW per night, with a few extra hours thrown in on the weekend, sometimes as much as 30 hours per week. Chances are good that I will have an Epic Flying Mount before I go back to Australia :)
Apparently there's a ceiling but I never hit it, although the ground got pretty far away and I could only make out one or two buildings, so back down, down, down I went. The only problem is, and it's probably a gripe among all 70s, is that the lvl 60 Epic Mount runs faster than the lvl 70 Mount can fly. There's an "Epic" Flying Mount but he costs five times as much as the Regular version, although he apparently flies four times faster than the regular Flying Mount, and over twice as fast as the Epic Ground Mount. I go back to Australia in a few weeks time for my Mum's wedding. I wonder if that's enough time for a casual, hardcore gamer like me to accrue 5,000 gold coins? I'll probably end up doing nothing but killing Mobs for hours on end, day after day. Then again, I don't do much more than that in WoW anyway ;)
I know a couple of my Guildmates have the Epic Flying Mount on one of their toons, and with the daunting challenge of farming 5,000g in front of me, I can see why they only have it on one of their toons. A quick Google of "Buy WoW Gold" reveals that 5,000g can be bought for around $400. If I'm lucky, I can grind out that gold at approx. 100g/hour, but more likely we're looking at 80g/hour, or 60+ hours. For $400 that comes out to about $6.50/hour, or slightly more than Minimum Wage. On a somewhat positive note, I usually get in an average of 3 hours of WoW per night, with a few extra hours thrown in on the weekend, sometimes as much as 30 hours per week. Chances are good that I will have an Epic Flying Mount before I go back to Australia :)
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