GIF Party

GIFs are changing my life.

As soon as Twitter integrated gifs, Angie and I have been having gif wars in our messages to one another. I use them in the messaging platform at work (as a link, but it's better than nothing). I use them on Slack. I downloaded the Google keyboard for iOS, so I could send them easily in my text messages.

Obviously, they've been around for a long time, but they've gotten so easy to embed that I can't stop using them. They express my emotions better than words.

It's interesting how images (gifs, pictures, emojis) have become such a rich conversational tool - and, with technology, how they've become so prevalent. It's like heiroglyphics are back!

Instead of thinking in owls and eyes, I think in this is fine dogs and Nene Leakes expressions.

The Boy Who Waited

Tonight I went to the Grandview Theater to watch Doctor Who. This is no big deal, except that I went by myself. To a theater. By myself.

I wanted to watch the show and had no one to go with, so I had to decide between sitting and home feeling sorry for myself or going alone.

One time I went to Iraq by myself. That was a much bigger deal and sometimes I forget that, if I can do that, I can probably do most things that confront me.

The flip side of that, though, is that I was once confronted by Iraq and all that goes with that - language, culture, finding community, worshiping Jesus. Today I'm confronted by things that feel stupid. Like whether or not to go to a theater.

What I'm saying simply is that most things I do seem dull and I don't want to do dull.

I feel like I'm waiting. Between adventures in the past and adventures in the future.

I know it doesn't make sense. What I've written is vague and shallow feeling. It feels like that to me, too.

I hate to use television as metaphor (or maybe I love it), but I feel like a former companion of the Doctor. In this metaphor, the Doctor = adventure = God. I feel like I have been left behind and the adventures now continue with other people. I hate that most of all.

I'm done thinking about it for now.

Ah February, My Old Foe

Dear February,

Have we always been enemies?

I didn't know we weren't friends until 1994. Perhaps you've always been out to get me, but I didn't notice until that winter.

It was the winter Dad died. That was the worst thing you've done, but I certainly not the only thing.

Even before Dad died in on Feb. 10, 1994, you hit us with that terrible ice storm and the ungodly temperatures. In my mind I remember temperatures of 40 below. That can't be right, but it gives some idea of howI think of you.

This year you tried ice again. But you were crafty this time. Just enough to be dangerous and terrible, but not enough to let me have a couple of vacation days. Boo to you, sir.

Today we'll see 40-50 mph winds and cold temps. Angie worries that we'll lose electricity.

I am writing today to say that I am done fighting you February. It turns out you're not much of a foe anyway. I mean, even if we lose electricity, odds are you won't take it out as long as August did in 2008 - or was it 2009? Either way, I'm done fighting with months.

Find another foil for your shenanigans as I will no longer be giving you any attention.

Plus, I start a new job next week. That's exciting.

I'm not suggesting a friendship, but I am done fighting you.

Cheers, February.

The End of the Worst Week of 2010

On Thursday of last week, we drove to DC. The trip wasn't too bad, but going through the mountains in PA, we hit fog and rain which slowed us down. In Maryland, the rain got worse and, in DC, the rain became a torrential downpour. It made for a pretty miserable last couple of hours and an honestly almost undrivable final 30 minutes.

That night, we tried to get Nila to sleep in a new environment. It didn't go too well, which wouldn't have been a huge problem except that I had to get up at 5 am for the Foreign Service assessment the next morning.

I was up at 5 the next morning with about 5 hours of sleep and at the assessment center by 6:30 am. Thus began a 9 hour day filled with assessment (25%), waiting (75%) and anxiety (100%). I don't know why I felt so much anxiety, really. I wasn't uncomfortable with the assessments and I did ok. I think it was the waiting.

When I found out I hadn't reached the minimum cut off score, I headed home hoping for a high calorie dinner. That part of the weekend, at least, went as planned.

We started our Saturday well, with a drive through town, a trip to Target (obviously) and a visit to the Museum of Natural History on the National Mall.

On the way back to the car from the museum, however, Angie had a seizure. We were able to get her seated on a short (5-6 in) marble wall, but the seizure turned out to be of the "crazy-big*" variety and Angie ended up with her head in the bushes.

It was traumatic. For me. I'm sure it was for Angie, too, but I can really only speak for myself. Luckily, Nila was in her stroller, so I was able to wheel her to face the street and not her mother, although, I think I may not have moved fast enough. She keeps asking about the "frog in mommy's throat."

As Angie came back to, I had to go get the car. She was in no shape to walk even though she tried to prove she was by taking a couple of stumbly, drunken steps. I advised her to sit down and commanded her not to lay down again. She was still fairly out of it, but I got her to agree.

The last thing I told her was: "Sit there. Don't lay down again...and try not to look homeless."

Nila and I hurried off to the car and I prayed she wouldn't try to get up and follow, or worse, get arrested for public drunkenness. Nila fell asleep as soon as she hit the car seat and we rushed to get Angie from her seat on the sidewalk.

The rest of the week has been uneventful, except for another rainy drive on Sunday and Nila's first swim lesson on Tuesday.

This morning, I slept through my appointment with Mike, my fitness trainer. How embarrassing. I only hope that 7 full days of terribleness are enough.

International Burn a Koran Day = Bad Idea

Bad idea = huge understatement

Someone serving in the Middle East sent me an e-mail today asking me to comment on this whole Koran burning nonsense. She can't comment as she's currently living in a conservative Muslim country in which it would be unwise to even mention burning the Koran and Americans burning the Koran will only make her work harder.

I decided to go directly to the church's website to find out exactly what they were doing and why. The church is called Dove World Outreach Center, located in Gainesville, FL. I read through their reasoning. You can read it for yourself at their website: doveworld.org. Be sure to read "Ten Reasons to Burn a Koran" and "5 More Reasons to Burn the Koran."

Having read the website, I don't know what to say. It's so sincere. I guess that makes it even sadder.

There are probably thousands of Christians working among Muslims right now; giving a helping hand, rebuilding homes, rebuilding lives, teaching freedom - the freedom of Jesus and the forgiveness of sins - and giving a face to Christianity other than American materialism.

And then along comes this little band of Koran-burners fanning the flames of hate between the two religions. And of course, the media is all in a tizzy to cover it.

The best thing we could all do is ignore it, but it's too late for that. So perhaps instead we can focus on those thousands of other Christians who are making a positive change in the Muslim world. The best way we can fight this kind of madness is to support those doing it the right way.

I won't post how here, but I can hook you up with some ways to make positive change by supporting those involved. Just ask me.

Lastly, I would encourage those of you who are reading this who happen to be followers of Jesus to be careful how you respond to the Koran burning church. Don't be fooled into thinking that demeaning them and/or showing hatred towards them sets you apart from them. It doesn't. It sets you on the same wrong side of the debate.

They're not idiots, they're not morons and they're not some sort of lunatic fringe. They are just like many of your neighbors. This is the view that most of the world has of us. Making fun of them doesn't change this opinion. Only giving a positive alternative example can do that.

(Photo: from http://www.doveworld.org/the-sign)

Reasons Why Exercise are Dangerous

As you know, Angie and I have been exercising with a trainer. She bartered her web design services for the training. I'll post a link to our trainer's website when it's finished.

This morning I got up early to exercise before I came to work. Two things happened.

As I was putting on my shoes I hurt my knee. I mean, that activity isn't what did it. I've had a little bit of pain this week for some unknown reason, but it really started to burn when I squated down to get the shoes.

I put some ice on it the burning was so bad and I headed downstairs to exercise. I gave it a few minutes and started to do the routine - there wasn't any pain once the burning passed.

I was doing pretty good and then something terrible happened!

I had a weight in my hand and slammed said hand against one of the ceiling beams in the basement. My pinky finger was squashed between the weight and the wood. It hurt!

I stopped exercising and sat down. I scraped a bit of skin off, but it wasn't really bleeding. the finger was a little swollen and it was hard to bend it.

I went upstairs and Angie and Nila tried to talk to me. The pain was so bad, I couldn't even think! Angie tried to get me to go to the emergency room, but I could bend the finger and the pain subsided a bit.

Angie then tried to get me to call of work, but I think it was because she wanted me to drive her places not because of my poor finger.

Anyway, I put a Hello Kitty bandaid on it and it's fine now unless I lean on it.

I survive to fight another day!

Saved

I was planning to start looking for a new job since this one is set to end soon.

BUT

I got this in my in-box today

The sum of $1 000.000.00 USD through Western union Gold Card is waiting in
your favour,as we have been given the mandate to transfer your full compensation
payment of total sum of $1 000,000.00 USD via western union Gold Card by this
governemnt of the IMF and the united nations board of trustee and directors here
in the (ECOWAS) CENTRAL BANK of west africa LOME TOGO .
Tel;+2280984779
Manager Dr.Tete Dankwa
d.funddepartment@mail15.com
Congratulations once more.
Thanks Mrs Anna Lawson.

So, I'm good.

Bad Start

From Food Fight (with editing by me)

1:30 am - I was awakened by Nila's wailing as Angie came into the bedroom and told me it was my turn to try and get Nila to sleep. I went into Nila's room and spent the next hour trying to work my magic.

I'm not really sure what was wrong, though. She has a cold and has had a cold for the past few days, so maybe that played some part. I told her it was time to sleep and she put herself back down and closed her eyes. I thought she was asleep and I tried to leave the room only to hear her yelling for mommy once I got into the hallway.

We did that twice. The last time, I waited an extra long time before I snuck back out. It stuck that time and she was asleep at least until I left for work.

4:30 am - After getting a couple of additional hours of sleep, my phone rang. At first, I just assumed it was my alarm, but I saw a number on the screen. I answered it.

It was a tech from California.

"Is this the Command Center?" he asked.

"No," I said. This is the sleeping center, buenos tardes.

I gave him the correct number and went back to sleep.

I have had to give my phone number to a few techs for various reasons, but this is the first time one of them has called me when I'm not on duty.

A sign of things to come.

6:30 am - I woke up 30 minutes later than I should have. I should say, I got out of bed. I'm still working on waking up.

6:50 am - After a quick shower and dressing, I tried to throw together a quick lunch and something for breakfast. I put my oatmeal and milk in a plastic bowl - I can cook it at work - and made a nice salad for lunch.

Then I dumped that salad all over the kitchen floor.

7:05 am - Lunchless, I arrived at work only 5 minutes late. Not too shabby.

What is shabby is the milk that leaked from my bag leaving a trail from my car, through the parking garage, across the bridge, up the elevator and down the hall.

I put the oatmeal in the microwave anyway. I haven't gone back for it yet.

7:30 am - I am writing this post. Next, I'm going to go get my oatmeal. Wish me luck.

Here's to a better Sunday than I've had so far!

La Loba Means Ridiculous in English

Yesterday, Sis asked me if I liked the new Shakira song, She Wolf. I answered that I wasn't sure.

You see, the song has a catchy tune and a nice beat.

But it also features howling and perhaps the craziest lyrics of any Shakira song to date.

The song in Spanish:




I think that Shakira must translate her own songs into English. I picture her with her paper-back copy of a Spanish-English dictionary, twirling her hair ansd chomping on gum with a furrowed brow.

I mean, it's impossible that the record compnay hired someone to do this:

S.O.S she's in disguise.
S.O.S she's in disguise.
There's a She Wolf in disguise,
Coming out, coming out, coming out!

A domesticated girl that's all you ask of me,
Darling it is no joke, this is lycanthropy.

The moon's awake now with eyes wide open.
My body’s craving, so feed the hungry.

I’ve been devoting myself to you Monday to Monday, and Friday to Friday.
Not getting enough retribution or decent incentives to keep me at it.
I’m starting to feel just a little abused like a coffee machine in an office.
So I’m gonna go somewhere cozy to get me a lover, and tell you all about it.

There’s a She Wolf in the closet.
Open up and set it free.
There’s a She Wolf in the closet.
Let it out so it can breathe.

Sitting across a bar, staring right at her prey.
It’s going well so far, she’s gonna get her way.

Nocturnal creatures are not so prudent.
The moon's my teacher, and I’m her student.

To locate the single men I got on me a special radar,
And the fire department hotline in case I get in trouble later.
Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys I just want to enjoy,
By having a very good time, and behave very bad in the arms of a boy.

Shakira She Wolf lyrics found on http://www.directlyrics.com/shakira-she-wolf-lyrics.html

Seriously.

Then I thought that perhaps she just puts the Spanish into Babel Fish and sings what she gets.

I tried that, though. It wasn't the same. I wouldn't say it's less ridiculous, just different.

Here's a sample of the song via Babel Fish:

A she-wolf in the closet
It has desire to leave
It leaves, eats the district

and this gem

the life has given a voracious hunger to me
as soon as it give me caramels I go away with my legs

Ramen Recipes

This one's for Kate as she moves back to Oxford to start school again.

50 Amazing Ramen Noodle Recipes from Rasmussen College:

Going to college requires a lot of your time, which doesn't allow you to cook your common four-course meal. Using the age-old college fallback, ramen noodles, you can cook yourself a tasty treat in a short amount of time without breaking the bank.

Recipes include gems such as a Ham Ramen Frittata and Chocolate Ramen as well as links to even more top Ramen recipes.

I even think I've eaten this one:

For a light ramen salad, toss 4 cups shredded lettuce, 1 grated carrot, 4
green onions sliced and cup slivered almonds, with a package of uncooked ramen
noodles. Pour over a dressing made of 2 tablespoons each of canola oil and
honey, the seasoning packet (chicken or beef are recommended) and cup each rice
vinegar and apple juice. Toss and serve.

White Space

I've spent an hour trying to fix the layout of this blog, so that an ad appears in the white space at the top right.

I can't seem to make it work and I don't know that there's anything I can do to fix it. We may have to live with the white box.

I hope this doesn't cause anyone - besides me - any great distress.

I am at work this morning and nothing is happening. Seriously nothing.

We've had a few pone calls, but mostly silence.

I'm bored.

I Yearbooked Myself

Yearbook Yourself is back with some pretty awesome new pictures.

I Seen Beyonce at Burger King

This might be the best song.

Ever.

Farm Town

I don't know how many times I've played Bejeweled on Facebook today.

If you forced me to guess I'd say 297 and I'd wonder why you cared enough to force a number out of me.

Seriously, you should have something else to worry about.

One might ask why I spend so much time playing games whilst at work. The answer is fairly simple: it's better than sitting at my desk twiddling my thumbs between phone calls.

Angie often asks why I don't do something more productive. I explain that I can't focus on any one thing too deeply as I'm drawn away to the phone at least once every 5 minutes or so on average.

Some of the calls are complex, some are simple, but all require my attention to be drawn from something else. It means I spend a lot of time on meaningless tasks - if tasks isn't too strong a word for Bejeweled.

But today I may have sunk to a new low - one I'm less than comfortable with. I started playing FarmTown. Now I'm waiting for my virtual grapes and potatoes to ripen so I can harvest them and buy a virtual fence or hay bale or pile of wood.

Ugh.

Surviving the Recession: Bread and Water Party

I have a great idea.

Don't despair in the economic downturn; revel in it.

I submit the following idea: Bread and Water Party

The host or hostess provides the water.

The guests bring bread to share.

It's as simple as that, but, before you roll your eyes, read on.

The party idea is inspired by Jeni's Splendid Ice Cream. At the shop in Grandview (and probably the others, too. I haven't paid too much attention), they offer free water. Not just plain water, mind you, but cucumber-infused free water.

That got me thinking about all the ways one can flavor water with fruit and veg. Boom. Idea.

The host/ess of the party should serve flavored water. Here are some recipes.

Cucumber Water:
Get a pitcher
Put ice in the pitcher
Fill the pitcher with tap water
Slice a cucumber
Add cucumber slices to the pitcher
Serve and enjoy

Lemon Water:
Get a pitcher
Put ice in the pitcher
Fill the pitcher with tap water
Slice a lemon
Add lemon slices to the pitcher
Serve and enjoy

Lime Water:
Get a pitcher
Put ice in the pitcher
Fill the pitcher with tap water
Slice a lime
Add lime slices to the pitcher
Serve and enjoy

Watermelon Water:
Get a pitcher
Put ice in the pitcher
Fill the pitcher with tap water
Slice a watermelon
Add watermelon slices to the pitcher (just use a few. Eat the rest)
Serve and enjoy

General Melon Water:
Get a pitcher
Put ice in the pitcher
Fill the pitcher with tap water
Slice a melon
Add melon slices to the pitcher
Serve and enjoy

Mint Water:
Get a pitcher
Put ice in the pitcher
Fill the pitcher with tap water
Add mint to the pitcher
Serve and enjoy

That's just the beginning. You could add anything you wanted, but, in my opinion, once you start adding sugar, kool aid, tea packets, etc. it ceases to be a water party.

Now for the bread.

I don't recommend guests just bring a bag of Wonder. Why not bring a nice sour dough? Or banana bread, or challah, or even monkey bread.

Now, go have a Brad and Water Party with your friends and family! Let me know how your party goes in the comments!

Towing Rage

On Saturday night, Brandy came to visit and tell us all about her trip to Brazil. I made pizza and Angie made a strawberry dessert. We laughed, we cried. The usual.

While we were socializing, Shamrock towing came and took Brandy's car away. Her crime was not having a parking pass for the neighborhood.

We should have learned our lesson when Sis' car was towed about a month ago. We did not.

Brandy had to call Shamrock. They quoted her $133, so I motioned for the phone:

Me: The sign says $90 towing fee plus $12 storage fee. That's $102. Why is
it $133?

Jerk Lady: There is a $25 administrative fee plus tax.

Me: Administrative fee? That's not on the sign. I demand that all fees be
written on signs.

Jerk Lady: It's Ohio Revised Code.

Me: Which one?

Jerk Lady: Look on the sign.

Me: No, I will not. You want to charge me $25, you should know the revised
code. What is it?

Jerk Lady: Look, I'm not the one who parked where I shouldn't have. The
code is on the sign.

Me: You don't have to be a jerk, lady. If I have to pay, I'd like to know
the code. I need to speak to your manager.

Jerk Lady: She's not in. You have to call Monday.

Me: What's her name? What's her number?

Jerk Lady: Her name is Manager. You can call this number.

Me: Oh, I will! And I will tell her all the jerky things you said to me. I
have written them all down so that I can quote you verbatim! You have met your
match this time.

Oh, yes I would fight the administrative fee with every breath I have!

That's what is called impotent rage. I was mad at the property management company for its stupid parking rules, I was mad at the towing company for towing Brandy's car, I was mad at Jerk Lady and her stupid $25, but mostly I was mad at myself for knowing the stupid rules and ignoring them.

I was furious. I mean I couldn't think of anything else.

I took Brandy to get her car and, as I drove home alone, I thought of ways to alleviate my feeling of rage. I came to a simple solution.

I called Jerk Lady - we could probably just call her Lady now - back and apologized to her for being a jerk myself. She didn't deserve to be the recipient of my anger. It's not like she gets to keep the $25.

It worked, too. Once I did the right thing, I felt better; no more impotent rage. I went home and went to bed without another thought about towing or administrative fees.

Angie is 30 Now (+ 2 Days)

Sunday was Angie's birthday.

Her thirtieth birthday.

We had a small catered affair here at the house with friends and family.

By that I mean we got more free food from the BBQ guy and had some people over to eat it and eat cake. All-in-all, it was a good time, although it may have been a bit dull. Sorry, Angie.

We played a game called "What's Yours Like?" You can click the name for a fuller description, but the basic premise is this:

One person is the guesser. Everyone else reads a card with a word or phrase on it. The guesser does not see the word.

The guesser proceeds to ask each player, "What's yours like?"

The others answer with clues, "Mine is small." "Mine is under the couch." "Mine is a pot-bellied pig."

The clues depend on the card, of course.

The first word was birthday and Angie was the guesser. Here's how that went.

Angie: "Bob, what's your's like?"

Me: "Mine is festive."

Angie: "Tammy, what's yours like?"

Tammy: "Mine is fun."

Angie: "Grandma Kay, what's yours like?"

Grandma Kay: "Scream"

Angie: ...

Me: "It has to be a sentence. Say the whole thing."

Grandma Kay: "Scream"

Sis: "No, no. It has to be a full sentence. Mine is ..."

Grandma Kay: "Mine is scream."

All together: "That's not a sentence."

That was really nothing compared to the second round when Grandma said "Mine is I came out of" for the word closet. Those of us who knew the word almost died.

For two reasons: It's still not a sentence and Grandma just told us she had come out of the closet. It was alarming.

All that and she still won the game.

An Evening of Pizza and Weird

This evening was strange.

Our sink is clogged. A couple of weeks ago our garbage disposal began leaking pretty bad. I disconnected it and cleaned it out. It's been leaking since we moved in and I found that food was collecting inside the casing because of a hole. It was disgusting. Who knows how long the food had been in there. Today, water was pouring out of the disposal when I ran water in the other sink. It seems that there's a clog in the pipes which causes water to back up and, if the disposal wasn't there with it's hole to allow leaking, would back up into the sink.

I had already started making dinner - black-eyed peas, Kurdish style - but I couldn't finish because I couldn't wash the dishes I needed to use in the sink.

Sis came over to go to the library. Angie and Nila came along so we could get some dinner out.

The library trip was fine.

We decided on Pizza Hut for dinner because it's easy and I thought it'd be kid friendly.

We got there and the sign told us to please wait to be seated. But then no one came. No one. Ever.

Another guest suggested that we just seat ourselves, but we left instead. I mean, if they can't be bothered to greet and seat, they can't be trusted to serve us.

We crossed the street to Tommy's Pizza.

It's an old-school pizza joint. It worked out just fine and Sis told the following story:

First, she wrote the following name and asked us to pronounce it.

Le-A

Angie and I both said Leah. Easy.

Sis laughed and said, "Nope. LaDASHa."

She claims that she works with a woman who knows a woman who teaches the child Le-A. Apparently, the teacher called her Leah and got a message from the mother telling her "It's Ladasha. The dash isn't silent."

Isn't the dash ALWAYS silent.Given that it isn't a letter and all.

It has all of the makings of an urban legend, but Sis claims that the woman she works with swears to have heard the message herself, and I have no reason to think the woman is a liar.

I decided to have another daughter and name her P@y.

Then things got weirder.

As we were eating, I notice the people at the table across from me get up to leave. It's an older couple and their daughter. The mother stands up and sort of trips on her chair. She stumbles and almost falls down, but she doesn't and I stop paying attention.

They proceed to leave the restaurant. I kind of notice that the father goes the right way and the mother heads behind the counter for some reason. I'm not really watching but it's close and I notice.

Then I just see her feet as she goes down. It didn't look like she tripped. It seemed like she passed out, but now that she's down, I can't see her at all.

Her husband notices that she's fallen and, alarmed, goes to tend to her. I can't see anything now. There's a wall between me and the action, but Sis can see everything.

She says that the husband seems to be laying on top of her. Angie gets out her phone to call 911, but someone at the restaurant does it before her.

Nila claps and laughs.

Then the staff comes out of the back and gathers around. One woman keeps saying "Why is she even behind the counter? Customers shouldn't be back there." She doesn't add "If a person wants to pass out, they should do it in an area reserved for customers," but it's implied.

Maybe ten minutes later, paramedics show up. The husband is still laying on the wife and the daughter is suggesting that the mother tripped on something. Which gets another "Customers shouldn't be back there."

Sis and I get interviewed for the company incident report as the woman gets strapped to gurney and out she and her family go.

I bundle Nila and carry her out as Angie pays the bill.

As we get in the car I say how I wished we would have gotten free food for helping with the incident report.

Angie says, "They were too busy trying to figure out who was going to pay for the falling family's food to worry about us."

Maizebread

My favorite comic strikes again

The Idiotic-Hot Scale

A blogger I don't know has posted about the Glade Lady and asks the question, Is the Glade Lady hot or idiotic?

I don't think the choice is so clear. It's not dualistic, it's multidimensional. There are innumerable points along the scales hot and idiotic. The Glade Lady could be both or even neither. I would suggest a graph such as the one below to answer the question.
We could argue where the Glade Lady actually lies on this chart, but I don't think she's as hot as most of my readers do.

Nothing against Dori Kelley.

Related Posts:

The Glade Lady's Web of Lies
That Glade Commercial Madness
Dori Kelly - The Glade lady
The Glade Lady Crosses a Line