Grandmother of child groom disgusted… yeah, me too. Ick.

Seriously, when it all comes down to it, I have no problem with a large age gap… but 15 and 37 would be so much better if it was 20 and 42. Five years makes a huge difference.

I’m disturbed.

And I burned my hand this morning. Be wary of leaving a ceramic mug on a gas stove with three burners lit—do not, I repeat, do not grab the handle expecting it to be fine. It will not be fine. You will earn yourself a sticky burn. Sticky? Yes, because ceramic glaze gets tacky at a certain heat.

Just so you know.

It isn’t illegal already?

Um… huh.

Quark is an evil son of Satan. I’m working on quite a massive project—the first of five mammoth tomes. This first one appears to be the smallest (I think), and I’m almost done with Part 2 (of 4) and I crested 500 pages awhile ago. Quark has decided that it’s just too big of a file, and consequently, crashes every 100 or so pages. I’m going batshit over here people.

On the positive side, I’m working from home. 🙂 🙂

I adore working from home. I can sleep in a bit, work from bed for an hour or so, and just generally have a leisurely day. I don’t have to worry about traffic or customer care phone calls (yes, I’m checking the voicemail coworker :P) or any of that nonsense.

I do, however, have to deal with two cats. Cats who believe that when I am home, I am their personal pet. Right now, after many hours spent attempting to sit on my lap (I pushed her off) and crawl up my back, while meowing loudly in my ear, Izzie has made herself comfortable between my feet, wrapped in a blanket. (Blanket is on my lap, and falls so that it surrounds her without binding—she is quite happy with this arrangment.) On the other hand, Ellie won’t stop rubbing her head against my computer screen. It’s like having kids, except I can ignore them—more or less.

Anyway, in addition to this evil book, I still have to do my regular job… so yeah, I’m busy.

I must not be the only one, ’cause some people haven’t posted in AGES.

Just sayin’.

Update: He blogged! He must’ve heard me whining. (Actually, no, but anyway…)

I’ve been wanting to see this movie for a long time. It’s brilliant. Winkler is an incredible director, and the music is phenomenal. I bought the soundtrack—I love iTunes. 🙂

Be prepared to cry. Life As A House

“Never in the field of human conflict, has so much, been owed by so many, to so few.”—Winston Churchill

I come from a military family. I’ve traced us back to the Civil War on both sides, and to the French Revolution on my Dad’s side.

My mom’s dad was in the Army and my grandmother worked for the Army during WWII. My dad’s dad was in the Air Force. (They were both studs—I’ll post pics later.)

My dad was in the Army—Green Beret, Ranger, Special Forces, yada, yada. My uncle was in the Navy.

I myself won’t join, but I have great respect and admiration for those who do.

My friend Chris was killed in Iraq on October 4, 2004. He was posthumously awarded the Bronze Star and a Purple Heart. This picture, two others and a note from him, arrived four days after he was killed. He was a fantastic guy.

Chris

“Never, never, never believe any war will be smooth and easy, or that anyone who embarks on the strange voyage can measure the tides and hurricanes he will encounter. The statesman who yields to war fever must realize that once the signal is given, he is no longer the master of policy but the slave of unforeseeable and uncontrollable events.”—Winston Churchill

Every morning on my way to work I pass a used bookstore. It’s cute, tucked into an old building on a small side street off Main, and it always has two racks of books outside on the sidewalk. And every morning, I have to resist the urge to pull over and peruse their selection.

This morning I noticed a young man unloading cardboard boxes from the back of his truck, and carting them into the store. He had four, and they were full-to-the-brim with books. The books didn’t appear to be particularly old or worn out—so I guess he was just selling them. After all, the sign above the door does say “Used Books—Bought and Sold.”

It made me sort of sad, to be honest. (When I told the coworker over lunch I was going to blog about a used book store, she rolled her eyes at me, lol.) See, I can’t imagine parting with a single book I own. (I even kept some textbooks I liked in college.) I love books—particularly my books—and while I love and respect the concept of a library, I hardly ever step foot in one. Partly because I’d end up in there for hours, and partly because I get cranky when I read a book and then am forced to give it back. Give it back? But it’s brilliant… the prose, the thoughts, the feelings it evoked when I read the last page… I don’t want to give it back.

In my apartment I have books in bookshelves, on dressers, on side tables and in cabinets—back at my parent’s home, I have three giant bins of books, dating back to when I first started reading, waiting for me in the garage. Every Christmas when I go home I crack open those bins and page through the memories of my youth, then I take a few and stick them in my suitcase, promising the rest that I’ll be back soon.

I plan to have amassed a giant personal library when I die—and that I can bequeath to someone who loves them as much as I do.

Either that or I’m having a giant pyramid built to house them all and I want my body (encased in a white gold casket with emerald accents) placed smack dab in the middle.

Greatest Internet Moments (so far), by some random guy.

It’s historical and hilarious at the same time.

So let’s see…

A blogger I like was just published in the San Diego Reader. He’s a highly entertaining read, an ex-pat living in Slovenia. Why Slovenia, you ask? Go see.

And John Fowles, reclusive author of The French Lieutenant’s Woman, died. I really enjoyed this book—didn’t so much like the movie, but the book is phenomenal.

So I did basically nothing today, except finish a book—A Long Way Down, and no, reading this book in no way reflects on my current mental status, just to get that out there—and vacuum.

And oh yeah, where do I go to get one of these?

8:15 Update: Finished The Unwanted, too. Kien Nguyen’s memoir about growing up Amerasian in Vietnam during the 70s. Brilliant and heartwrenching.

Now The West Wing is featuring a live debate between the two candidates. It’s fun. 🙂

I woke up this morning with a brilliant plan… to shop at Target, then compare the prices with what I have purchased before at Wal-Mart. And yes, I do have a life and no I’m not weird… Although I was telling this plan to everyone I spoke with on the phone today, and they’ve decided I am weird… and that I talk too fast. (Sorry baby.)

This plan turned out to be harder than I expected. Sales, different sizes and weights of products, etc., make it difficult to do a side-by-side comparison. So, with seven items, I deduced that going to Target actually saved me 49 cents—and a hell of a lot of grief: no screaming kids, mad salespersons or grumpy women fellow shoppers. Matter of fact, I ran into one woman’s cart twice (Shut. Up.) and she just kept laughing. We ended up having a lovely chat about 2-ply, lol.

It’s still a tough call, though. Looking at several Wal-Mart receipts, I noticed that prices fluctuated quite a bit when things were on sale—over a dollar for Diet Coke, bottled water, toilet paper and cat food. In the end, I probably have saved more by shopping at Wal-Mart.

However, Target has sales, too. (12 packs of Coke products are on sale, 3 for $10 right now.) And a lot of times the prices at Wal-Mart are comparable to those at Target—it’s the sale prices that make each store come out about equal… when it comes to price, that is.

I really don’t like going to Wal-Mart. It makes me irritable, and I’m really not that fun when I’m irritable (again, sorry baby). So I think I’ll go back to shopping at Target—and watch for the sale prices. Which, seriously, is where real money is saved.

On a completely separate note, I got hit on by a very adorable man at Bed, Bath and Beyond. I bought a teakettle (I would’ve directed you to BBandB, but they didn’t have this one online)—I’ve wanted one for awhile and I’m all excited about it. Possibly more than I need to be, but ah well. Of course, I didn’t have to pay anything for it because I returned a coffee pot and had a 20% off coupon and it came out even. Anyway, said adorable man at BBandB? Liked the spelling of my name (it’s different than normal) and then when I laughed and just started talking to him, he blushed. Furiously blushed—red as a tomato. And stammered. And then asked me if I needed help out to my car. At that point I almost blushed (and said sure why not)—what, it was cute—but it was a little teakettle and I didn’t even need a bag. lol

Saturdays are entertaining, aren’t they?