Is it COLD in here?

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?

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.

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.

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!

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.

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:

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.

FTP – Fehking Trying (to) Publish

That down time was not one bit of fun. I had an extremely shitty day Sunday. I apologize 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.

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.