- Sunday, May 30, 2004
pero @ 12:34 AM | œ | 4 comments
With Friends Like This...
Everyone has at least one friend like this. They mention to you that they would like to get together on such-and-such day and they say, "I'll call you then, and we can figure out what time to go."
What they fail to realize is, SOME people, like myself, take that fragment of conversation seriously. That means the plans are made and I mark off that day on my social calendar, in order to leave the spot open for whatever was planned.
... and then they fail to call, and the -some person like me- is left without any plans, since most of the other invitations for that same day were turned down. I am not one to call a person after I declined their invitation earlier to say, "Hey, the person I was going to hang out with that I turned you down over blew me off, can I hang out with you guys today?"
It doesn't really matter (to me) that there are books that say it is not improper to call a person back and ask them if the offer is still open. I can never bring myself to do that, it just seems wrong somehow.
I wonder though, if I, or some person like myself, were to call the friend, (the one that neglected to hold to his word) and say, hey how 'bout we go to the game next weekend, I will call you ok?" and then I neglect to contact them, would they be angry?
pero @ 11:41 PM | œ | 4 comments
Dust Bowl
Some people are allergic to it. Bed bugs eat it. It seems to come from nowhere, and it seems to be landing on everything in my house.
Dust and dog hair - dog hair and dust. Every once in a while I slow down enough to see it, coating everything with a filmy thin layer. I've read that most household dust comes from skin sheddings. (Isn't that a pleasant thought?)
Today I gave up on the vacuum, which despite its high ratings on handling pet hair, doesn't seem to have the power it once did. I used the a broom and swept the carpet, working from one end of the house and sweeping towards the other along the length of the wall. I still need to move out some furniture and complete this job, especially now that I've started it. The problem is: I have dust allergies.
I am fine with dust, as long as I leave it alone, it leaves me alone. Once I start knocking it around it is a fifteen round battle to the death. I just hope I win.
pero @ 12:46 PM | œ | 8 comments
Strange Dream #05262004
I was at an airport walking towards a baggage claim carousel, and some woman was digging through my bag. I approach her and say, "Excuse me, that bag belongs to me."
She looks at me and explains that it looks identical to her own bag, and tells me she is looking IN the bag to make sure nothing is missing. I asked her what exactly she thinks makes sense about that, since it is not her bag, and once she opened it it was obvious that the stuff inside was not her own.
Her bag rounds the corner and watch her as she lifts it from the baggage claim. I begin to check my own bag for any additions / subtractions that may have taken place. I proceed to empty every item from the bag and inventory it in my mind. Cell phone, camera... shorts, socks, shirts (and so forth.)
The woman opens her bag and begins to cry. She then accuses me of stealing her plate. Her grandmother gave it to her and it was right here, and now it is gone.
"Tell me," I said to her, "exactly HOW do you presume I was able to steal your plate, when you know I have never seen your bag up until now?"
She said, "Well of COURSE you have seen it. It looks just like yours."
I woke up confused and annoyed.
Labels: Dreams
pero @ 10:54 AM | œ | 2 comments
Greetings from the Road
I'm sitting outside a winery with an unprotected wireless network. This is called Wardriving.
Tim built an antenna out of a pringles can (a CANTENNA). More later, gotta dash before we get discovered!
pero @ 3:32 PM | œ | 6 comments
Take Your Time, It's Only My Life
FedEx is supposed to be delivering a package today. Technically, they attempted to deliver it yesterday, but I was at a movie. Instead, they left a post-it sticker on my door. I have not ordered anything, the package is for Tim.
I think that I know what it is, it is a new carrying bag for his Alienware laptop, which he sent in for a repair to the case he somehow damaged, and they returned two weeks ago. I am actually not sure who he ordered the new bag from, but the package is from Alienware.
Hey... what if they are shipping a second computer to him? Shipping error in my favor - finders keepers. Maybe I'll sign the slip with his name, so nobody can prove that I actually accepted the package. FedEx is not the post office. Would this still be a Federal offense? Or is the use of the word Federal in federal express just a marketing idea?
Is a Federal offense to sign for a package with someone else's name when it is delivered not by the USPS but an independent company or firm - AND - who is responsible for that? Is it my fault that they do not check my ID?
Furthermore, if I did go to prison for the offense, do you think they would let me have my laptop so I can continue to update my site? Maybe I would have to sign up for audioblogger and use my telephone time to call in voice posts. That is an interesting concept. "Prison Blogs". Lives and Thoughts of people with nothing but TIME on their hands.
Where is that driver? I have other stuff I need to do today.
pero @ 3:20 AM | œ | 14 comments
(Give me a break, it was Monday.)
pero @ 9:52 AM | œ | 5 comments
But, Where Does the Information GO?
I've been keeping an eye on the website (tireddotcom) for at least a year. I think I stumbled upon it when searching for something else -- I don't remember now. If you visit them, (and you can do so by typing the URL into your browser, because I am not planning to link them just yet... because I want to know - WHERE DOES THE INFORMATION GO?) but IF you visit them, all you see is a plain white page, with courier typeface in the center that simply says:
Are you tired?
Tell us why.
On their site, the mail goes to tiredattireddotcom. There are no other links on the page. I'm curious, mostly because it's been a while and the page has not changed. Once I emailed them (using a hotmail account I created for it to avoid spam, and recommend you do the same if you email them) and told them I was tired of looking at that page and wondering where the information goes.
pero @ 5:57 PM | œ | 3 comments
FTP - Fehking Trying (to) Publish
That down time was not one bit of fun. I had an exremely shitty day Sunday. I aplogize for the - TEN HOUR disappearance.
More details later. I need sleep and right now I am not sure exactly why this happened. I'll fix the archive links tomorrow. I'm tired. It's two am and I want to go to bed.
pero @ 4:50 PM | œ | 4 comments
Good Golly, Miss Molly
She missed her target and hit my index finger. In the fraction of a second that it happened, I made a noise that resembles a small motor that gets revved too high, "DZZZZT!" although, I am not sure why my brain chose that particular reaction. I suppose if I had been more surprised by it, I may have even "screamed like a girl". The truth of the matter is, I already knew there was a risk of being bitten by the snake when I took it upon myself to feed her.
The snake belongs to Tim, and if he is away on an extended trip he usually leaves me in charge of "Molly" and the 40 gallon glass enclosure designed for reptiles. (It looks like a fish tank but it is not rated to hold water).
Molly is a Red-Tail Boa Constrictor. She was showing signs of hunger, prowling around her enclosure more frequently than normal. I stopped by a pet store and purchased a fat rat for her. I moved the friendly Molly to the bathtub, which is an ideal place to feed a large constrictor. I feel it is a bad idea to feed a snake in it's cage, because if it associates hands coming into the cage with "FOOD" then you may be mistaken for FOOD when your intention is really just to fill a water dish. Molly is incredibly docile and has never posed a threat before. She usually strikes her food with spectacular accuracy.
I dangled the rat by its tail above Molly. The rat decided to swing in an attempt to escape my grasp. Rat swung right. Molly struck left, her many, many sharp teeth landing on my index finger, which she released immediately*. I ("DZZZZT!") dropped the rat into the tub where Molly was on him in a heartbeat. I inspected my finger, which had a lot of small holes and was forming small red beads of blood. While it wasn't incredibly painful, it bled profusely. I cleaned and bandaged my wound. The hard part was picking Molly up to return her to her cage.
* She did realize I was not "FOOD" and she released me immediately.
pero @ 11:17 AM | œ | 5 comments
Dream Agents
I am procrastinating the falling asleep part of my night. I think I am trying to avoid more bizarre dreams. Lately I have had many, many dreams that are really disturbing to the point that I'd never share them out of fear that someone would call -- ? whichever authorities one would call when a person's dreams are so disturbing that they feel "The Agency" should be aware of the dreams and the person having them. I also have avoided posting them because I do not remember enough detail about them to have much to write.
I can imagine the responses "The Agents" would get from my peers when they asked around about me.
"Pero? yes. I know a little about him. friendly guy. This will sound contradictory, but for someone who talks so much, he is sort of quiet and keeps to himself most of the time... he has some quirks though. I guess you could call them neuroses. Issues with food, mostly the appearance of food or stuff dealing with quality. Issues with women, because he has a LOT of dreams where he is being persued by one or more women and he is running, or hiding or trying to avoid being captured by them, even though I know that he likes women. I'm not sure what significance the evading capture has, really. I think he has commitment issues but then it's hard to tell. Issues with abandonment. Which is weird for someone who seems to relish his solitude for the most part. He likes helping people though, which is a positive trait. Basically, he loves any chance to give his opinion to anyone, whether or not they will like what he has to say. Kind of hard to figure out, but an easy guy to talk to mostly."
This description is not entirely inaccurate, but it also makes me sound like one of those freaky-weirdo serial killer-cannibals with some strange fettish. "The Agents" would nod and take notes, and exchange a glance at key points while the people told them what they know. They would then return to their shiney black sedans, touch up their lipstick and drive through the grass in the yards of the people they survey, more interested in persuing me than in the preservation the well-manicured lawns of their witnesses.
Labels: Dreams
pero @ 1:36 AM | œ | 5 comments
Excuse Me, But... There is a Mouse in My Soup.
Yah, I do inspect my food before I eat it. People usually tell me I am too paranoid about food I have not personally prepared. Well I tell you, I read these stories of chicken heads mixed in with chicken nuggets and mice in soup and I have to say... I have reasons to doubt the integrity of the food service industry.
I think what really gets me is -- both events happened in the state of Virginia.
(these links may eventually be moved and I will try to get around to fixing them but for now the stories can be found here.)
eek! a mouse in my soup!
chickon head!
pero @ 11:11 PM | œ | 4 comments
R'okay!
Remember the Dancing Spiderman?
I was working on fixing a computer for someone, and when I went to the Microsoft website - I saw this.
You can get one of these for your desktop at the Microsoft Website. -- See what you find when you update your stuff?
pero @ 1:50 PM | œ | 3 comments
Could You Repeat That?
I seem to spend an abundance of time repeating myself. I seem to spend an abundance of time repeating myself. It isn't because I am speaking quietly but because people do not listen to what I am saying. When they act as if they are pretending, if they do not understand they pretend that they do understand. They tell me they understand then they later tell me they never heard me say it.
Substitute all of the verbs that indicate hearing with verbs that relate to reading and ... I still seem to spend an abundance of time repeating myself. I have called, emailed and Instant Messaged twenty people about the latest worm. Some of them I was trying to warn two days before the news reports picked up on it. Most of them - even today - have disregarded my warnings and pleas to update. Update. U-P-D-A-T-E.
When I am talking, people miss half of what I say. For example, If I tell someone "Go to (such and such site). Scroll down to the purple lizard. On his left is a link called 'spotty'. Right click it and open it in a new window. It's a really cool game" (all references are falsified and meant to serve as illustration of the point only) They come back at me with "I don't see a spotty lizard."
When I tell them about a new virus, and suggest they update their OS and browser and anti-virus they often tell me - oh ok I'll do it tomorrow. Well tomorrow comes and they can't figure out why they can't get the browser to connect to the Windows update site.
pero @ 9:10 PM | œ | 3 comments
The Sandman Never Finds My House
It is fifty-four degrees (F) outside, and seventy-five degrees (F) inside. (That is one well-insulated house, isn't it?) Anyway, seventy five is warmer than I would like my room to be - and I cannot sleep with it this warm. To me, Seventy five could even be considered "too hot for sleeping".
I'd open the windows but my neighbors and their stupid barking dogs would definitely wake me up at the crack of dawn. They are out every morning around five-thirty.
Right now, it is two-thirty a.m., and I have not even slept yet, so it is safe to assume that I am not going to want to be awake in a few hours. (Although, with my sleep patterns, I could still wake up without any help from barking dogs). So, I am laying here trying to decide if I should open the windows, which would help me sleep because it would cool off drastically, BUT knowing the dogs will wake me up -- or lay here in my room (which is too warm) and wait for sleep to come?
pero @ 2:45 AM | œ | 5 comments
These People are Our Nation's Future, and I'm Afraid.
Sunday, I spent five hours in the Emergency Room with a friend of mine. Her daughter called me around four o'clock in the afternoon and told me her mom was really sick and she needed help. Her temperature was 103.9 F, and she was starting to have problems breathing due to asthma. After several hours, three breathing treatments and a lot of watching the staff leave to eat the cake, conveniently located in a small room off the main desk; we were finally able to leave.
On the way home, she asked me to stop by Burger King so she could take food to her kids (by now it was fifteen minutes till nine). She is trying to stay awake long enough to tell me what each kid will want, and I relay this information to the voice coming out of the speaker at the drive-thru window (hereinafter referred to as Mr. Personality). Ordering was prolonged by his attitude. The order process (in part) is below to illustrate his behavior:
-:Female Voice:} welcome to burger king would you like to try a value meal? Someone will be with you shortly please wait. (imagine a two-minute pause)By now I was irritated with this boy. Anyway I ordered another value meal - and that went pretty much the same way the other items did.
-:Mr Personality:} may I take your order?
-:ME:{ Yes. I'd like to have a Big Kid's Meal, with Chicken Strips, and ...
-:Mr Personality:} What drink do you want?
-:ME:{ Sprite. I would also like..
-:Mr Personality:} Anything else?
-:ME:{ Yes - Just one moment -
-:Mr Personality:} Please drive around.
-:ME:{ I wasn't finished. I would also like a Whopper Jr. No Mustard. No tomato. No onion, with a medium sized Doctor Pepp--
-:Mr Personality:} What drink do you want?
Throughout the ordering process, he repeatedly interrupted me. I wondered what his problem was. When I got to the window, a young kid with red hair was speaking to the next customer. Between interaction, he would release the button that turns on his microphone and say things like, "Well comeon I don't have all day, DUDE."
Now, I know that he was saying similar things as I ordered. I listened as he repeatedly interrupted the customer, who was attempting to place his order, just like I had a few minutes before.
He also included a few choice expletives, and one very creative and blasphemous combination of words.
AND he had left the pick-up window open just to share all of this with me.
pero @ 10:11 AM | œ | 3 comments
Whatever it is, It is Kind of Creepy.
2.jpg "it isn't as bad as it looks")
My phone rings without fail as early as seven every Saturday morning. People don't seem to get it that I just might be sleeping. When I answer the phone in a half-asleep voice, they always respond with something like, "WHAT? You are still in bed? What are you, LAZY?" Eventually they get to the point and ask me if I am interested in looking at Garage Sales or going to WalMart or something else equally exciting. I politely decline and promise to call them later in the day. The problem is, once I'm awake - I'm awake. The sleep can not be salvaged - I may as well get up.
I have considered what these people would think if I called them somewhere around two a.m., so I would get the chance for once to say, "What? you're not awake? what is wrong with you?" I never call people before ten unless we already have plans that day that would require me to call them. I would not call them before then in order to make plans - (at least not to ask them if they want to go to WalMart.)
I was out of the house for most of the day today. When I got home, the light on the answering machine was blinking, indicating there was a message waiting. I pushed the button and walked through the house to the kitchen as it played. After a few seconds I walked back to the machine and stared at it as if it was something I had never seen before. The next five minutes was filled with garbled sounds. I have no idea who it was, or why they called.
If you listen carefully, you can hear specific sounds that are easily recognizable. (Listen) What do you hear?
pero @ 12:24 AM | œ | 6 comments
