Saturday, December 31, 2005
The fire starting power would also come in handy at work, to heat up my lunch and to toast things. Currently, we have a “no toaster oven policy” at work, and are unable to use anything to heat up our food other then the approved microwaves. This policy came about because someone upstairs on the executive floor tried to toast a piece of lo-carb bread, (made with weird artificial products, I’m sure) and it caught fire in the toaster oven. Luckily, this happened on a beautiful and warm late spring day, and we got to hang out in the parking lot for the mega fire drill. Personally, I try to use a microwave as little if possible, and to my knowledge I haven’t used one in several years. And I say “to my knowledge” because I’m sure at some restaurant or someone’s house, they nuked something and fed it to me. I find it funny that there’s a large commercial industry directed at creating these metal boxes that use radiation to speed up the particles in your food to make it varying warm to hot temperatures. But that’s a whole other rant.
I was never really clear on what special powers Drew Barrymore’s mother possessed, but she seemed like a minor character. Firestarter’s father in the movie had the best power; he just clutched his head, got nosebleeds, and made his will be done. In one scene, he looked at a shady government official sent by big brother to murder him and said, “You’re blind!” and the guy in question dropped to the ground, clutching his face, rolled around screaming “I…I can’t see! I CAN’T SEE!” In another scene, he grabbed a pay phone and looked at it, and all the change started coming out of the coin return slot (they used this money to buy a bus ticket out of town away from the thugs pursuing them). Overall, if I were Firestarter I’d feel gypped, but would make the most of my fire starting ability. It’s actually more practical then spectacular, like her father’s powers. If I were her father, I’d totally abuse my powers. I’d just walk into stores and grab what I wanted, and when I tried to leave with it I’d tell security, “I paid for this already.” Or walk into a place I wanted to work and say, “I got the job.” Thinking about it more, it seems like Firestarter’s father had the Jedi Mind Trick power, combined with other Jedi attributes, like telekinesis. Oh well. I think I’ll see if I can rent Firestarter because now I’m curious. I’m sure if I had cable it would be on somewhere.
Friday, December 30, 2005
I remember it had started to rain, but I was climbing anyway, and thought I could balance and walk up the wide branches to the trunk, and climb down that way. I started to slip, and felt like I was going to fall. I was in that mystical limbo when your brain registers that you are going to invite and at the very least sustain injury, the wide eyed disbelief at events unfolding that as a mere mortal I have no power to dissuade. In my desperate grasping, I clutched onto a branch that broke off, and propelled me to the ground with such force the wind got knocked out of me. I landed on my folded arms, like a toppled T-rex. The awesome photoshop arrow in the picture below shows the spot, 20 years later, where the tratiorous branch once was.
In all actuality, the tree was probably relieved that I wasn't climbing anymore. The picture on the left is what I looked like in 7th grade. Anyone who knows me can probably agree not much has changed. Except I don't have that yellow shirt anymore. I never really liked it in the first place. After I caught my wind back, my brother walked me over to a near-by friend's house, who let me ice my arm for a while. When I got home, my father insisted that I didn't break my arm, I only sprained it, and had me wear an ace bandage to a band concert that night (I played flute in our middle school band). When I picked up my instrument to play, the pain was so intense that I left immediately, and my mother brought me to the emergency room. I was diagnosed with a clean break, thorugh both the radius and ulna, between my elbow and wrist. To this day, if the humidity or barometric pressure in the atmosphere changes, I can detect it up to a day prior.
Thursday, December 29, 2005
A sudden storm started to roll in and form about 3:30, so I high tailed it back home. Suffice to say I got rained--poured on, and as quick as the storm formed it dissipated. By the time I made it back home the weather had turned into a dry overcast. On the day I took these pictures, it was about 70-75 degrees, and I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. I honestly feel that finding this solace and peace of mind was the highlight of the trip.
I have other pictures of Phillippe Park I'll post in later entries.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Sunday, December 25, 2005
Saturday, December 24, 2005
So it's just past midnight and my family is really dysfunctional. I mean, all families are dysfunctional, and I thought it would be fun to just observe, but I'm more then a spectator, unfortunately I'm a participant and have to stand up for my rights, or at least for the rights for the people who try hard to make a holiday happen. I can't idly sit back and let the people who are fucking it up continute to be assholes, I will put them in their place if they are disrespecting my family in any way, so if you're a girlfriend or boyfriend of a family member, and you can't handle your liquor and want to make an abrasive, controversial, uptight scene, I'll put you back in the place you belong, no problem. That's my promise. If you call me or my family trash, that's my loyalty right there, I'll make sure you understand you're the one who's trash, loud and clear.
I forgot how crazy holidays with family could be. For years, I've been on my own, not elected to do anything, and my minimal family obligation was making the day-of holiday phone call, and going back to the peaceful monotony of my routiene. Now that I'm an interactive particpant, I can't sit idly by while someone gets out of control, verbally abuses and disrespects my family and house, and loses control in all ways. My brother got his hand slammed in a car door, and that was at the high point of the drama occuring while Santa and his 8 tiny reindeer are sledding over the country, delivering presents to kids who have been good in the still of the night.
Too much alcohol too soon, everyone got way too drunk in a short amount of time. Somehow I'm the lightweight of the bunch and I'm fine, I paced myself and no problems here. I'm so mad right now I can't even get to sleep, and it's not even my problem.
And I thought I had problems.
Here's a picutre of my step brother puking behind the air conditioner on the side of the house. At least he didn't puke in it. That would really be smelly.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
I know it looks like a big mess, but it was good. Atlantic Salmon, garlic mashed potatoes, my dad's broccoli because he didn't want it and some zuchinni. All in a Pan-Asian sauce, whatever that was it was good.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
My dad has a cat named Beasley, he got her when I was 16. She's still around, apprehensively looking at me and skittishly approaching me, she seems as though she recognizes me but can't quite place me I've been away for so long. She looks the same, maybe a little fluffier then I remember but no visible grey.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
I've lived in the Northeast for a while, on and off over the years, and feel that they get much more snow and face more weather extremes. I mean, sure there's volcanos, tsunamis and earthquakes here, but tempature and weather wise, it's pretty mild. You can find extremes on the mountains and volcanos, and when you tire of it you drive back to your place in the nearby community. Every time there's some snow or ice, it's breaking news coverage on all stations for hours, and the city has a hard time organizing the de-icing and plowing of the roads, until at least the next day. Hey, I lived in New York for the Nor'easter of January 1996, nothing I've been through beats that. NYC received about 3 feet of snow, the silence outside was eerie.
This is my work parking lot the next day. It warmed up in the morning, and the snow melted to slush. Then the tempature dropped and made the whole thing icy slush. I forgot how pleasant it is to get icy slush inside of my shoe. I've learned something from this recent bout of winter weather--I need to invest in an ice scraper. The kind with the brush on it.
Saturday, December 17, 2005
"Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself."
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
“Can I help you?” I inquired, secretly hoping that she could be quickly handled.
“Uh, yeah,” she languidly replied, “I like, want a clerical job, and you guys haven’t called me.”
“Well, it says in your file that you type 21 word s per minute with 11 errors, that could be part of the reason,” I open-endedly countered. “While you are here, do you want to re-take the assessment and we can record new scores?” Immediately I started kicking myself, because if she wanted to take the typing test it would probably take her forever.
“Nah, that’s fine for now.”
Whew. I was beginning to feel dizzy from the patchouli smell, the funny, nauseating feeling I get when I use too much Tilex and don’t open a window to vent the fumes. It was hard to concentrate through the process; and to complicate matters; she asked questions about everything and had a problem with or needed a clarification of everything I was telling with her. I updated her information, and then she had her resume on a floppy disk she wanted me to make a correction on and print out a copy for her file. I refuse to do this; anyone can go to a library or a Kinko’s and do this for themselves and show up prepared. My mind poisoned from her patchouli, and I caved in. I ended up printing off a copy of her resume for her, but she was a little put off I didn’t want to make the correction. This annoyed me and I told her she could go to a library or a Kinko’s and do this for herself, because I wasn’t there to do that for her, especially if she is applying for a job. After 30 excruciating, needy, extra long eon-seemingly minutes, she left to catch her bus back downtown and I was freed from the patchouli curse. The whole situation occurred in my friend’s office, and hopefully the oily scent has dissipated by tomorrow morning. She deals with the public more frequently then I do, and her office is the catchall for 1 on 1 employee or applicant interaction, and has an arsenal of fragrances, disinfectant, anti-bacterial and odor-eliminating products for all of her public related needs.
These pictures were taken from a small dock, which had several patches of ice on it and no railing.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
On my way up to the top of Mt. Tabor, I passed a great view of Mt. St. Helens, about 70 miles N-NE of Mt. Tabor. Below is the same shot, just zoomed in:
Below is a picutre taken of Mt. Hood, to the east, from on the top of Mt. Tabor.
The parking area is located below a steep climb to the viewing area; there is a paved road loop that cars do not have access to. As a result, there are many cyclists and joggers that include Mt. Tabor in their exerscises. On my way up, I passed the large concrete cap below, which I suspect (but don't have confirmation) is the cap of the extinct volcano.
Finally, below is a zoom-in of Mt. Hood from the shot above the alledged volcanic cap. Just knowing that Mt. Tabor is an extinct volcano makes me think of "The Little Prince," and his little planet with the extinct volcano on it that he had to clean and take care of.