In Sicknes and In Health

When you exchange wedding vows with a teacher there needs to be an addendum to the whole "in sickness and in health" part, in which the teacher apologizes to the spouse for the fact that the spouse is going to be much more prone to said sickness for the first couple of years.

Sweetie has developed teacher immunity in which you can come at him with a nasty, ugly, gross flu and he'll just take a nap and be done with it all. I know, he brought a flu home for me last February, in which I suffered for a week, and he just had one day where he didn't feel so hot. Even though the doctor had told me that it was not a question of IF he'd get sick, but rather WHEN.

And now I've got this scratchy throat, achy joint thing going on. I know it's his fault, because his student teacher had it last week and he had it this weekend, and now it's all mine.

The good news is that someday I shall have spouse of teacher immunity, I'm just not looking forward to the meantime.

Everyone is sick
Me, the computer, the world
Orange juice for all

The Amazing Race 8: Episode 1

Oh man, it's like a crack addict getting his fix, it's been far too long since the last episode of The Amazing Race!

And it appears we get a couple of new twists this go-round, there's the well-publicized fact that it's the Family Edition, but it appears as if this race will not require a passport and will be a roadtrip through the US. I've been hoping The Amazing Race would do this for a while, so I'm glad they're finally coming through with it. Of course, I could be wrong on this, but considering that this week the teams made it from New York City to Lancaster, PA, and next week they're in Gettysburg... well, it doesn't look like we'll make it to sub-Saharan Africa anytime soon. Personally, I think it's because with teams of four it would make plane travel a BEAR with as many tickets as they'd need to buy.

The challenges were fairly blah tonight, but the families most definitely were not, so I think this week we should focus on the teams, and what we now know about them. So, without further adieu:

Kevin and Drew: These guys were my favorite team Season 1. They came in fourth place thanks to a bum taxi driver, but they had more personality than all the other teams combined. They aren't competing this go-round, but they were manning a hot dog cart at one of the route markers in this episode. Only one team acknowledged them, which was unfortunate. I hope we get more cameos from former racers this season, that would be fun. Now, onto the teams, in the order they checked into the pit stop:

Godlewski: THE. MOST. ANNOYING. TEAM. EVER!!!! Yes, more annoying than the spousal abuser. Yes, more annoying than the vain models. Yes more annoying than the matching gay guys. You name a team, these girls are more annoying than them. They are constantly excited. About EVERYTHING. WOO HOO! THE LIGHT TURNED GREEN! WOO HOO! YOU USED THE TURN SIGNAL!!! WOO HOO!! WE'RE LOST!!!! I was hoping the prize for coming in first place was that their vocal cords would be removed, but no such luck.

Gaghan: This is the family with the 9 year old daughter. I could care less about them as a team, but I dig that little girl. She's going to kick out some AWESOME one-liners this season. And those kids have legs. It came down to a foot race for second place, the other team had a bit of a lead, and the Gaghan's kicked their butt!

Weaver: First off, this family faced one of the scarier moments of Amazing Race history... while pushing an Amish horse buggy downhill it got out of control, Mom had to duck under it so as not to get run over, which left a runaway buggy with her two daughters inside. Thankfully, no one was hurt, but man was that a moment! That said, I'm surprised this happened to them. They've found the Lord, and I'm not quite sure why Jesus let them come so close to bodily harm. The Mom is constantly calling upon Jesus to guide them -- rather than, say, looking at a map. But the moment to end all moments was when a truck driver helped them with some directions, and she asked him if he'd found the Lord. Perhaps she'll get distracted on one of the legs, and be too busy converting someone to check into the pitstop. I'm going to hell now for just saying that.

Rogers: In their introductory interview at the beginning of the show they talked about how it's not bad to be Southern and how Dad is the boss. Other than that I have absolutely no impression of them. They did their tasks, they came in fourth. Other than that, you've got me.

Schroeder: I believe the teenage son has, thus far, spoken two words on camera. Something to the effect of, "We're here." Dad's a laugh riot, who may be a bit politically incorrect to make a joke, but his family knows it's all in good fun.

Paolo: I do not have ANY idea how this family came in sixth place today. If anyone has Jesus working on their side, it's the Paolos. Not only does Mom wear a neckerchief, but they're unathletic. And stupid. As in they live in New Jersey and Mom does not seem to know that Pennsylvania is a state. Oh, and she doesn't seem to understand that they're in a race, because on the way from New York to Pennsylvania she suggested they stop for a restroom break and to grab a bite to eat. I mean really, we've been at it at least an hour or two, let's just chill a bit. To top it all off this family wins the dysfunctional family of the year award. They are arguing and yelling at each other all the time (the antithesis to the Godlewskis). It appears that this is how they are, the loud, boisterous, Italian family. However, apparently after 20+ years of this Mom has had enough, and now that they are on television Mom wants them to shut-up and play nice. And if they don't, Dad's going to have words with them (or so says Mom).

Bransen: I don't know if these folks realize they're in a race. While in New York on the way to SoHo the daughters are talking about shopping opportunities. They've got serious navigational issues. Next week it looks like Dad's going to have some issues physically keeping up with it all. I almost suspect that one of the original teams cast had to pull out, and the Bransens were wandering by and got suckered into it. Should make for some interesting racing as long as they may last.

Aiello: Yes, my team came in 8th. But they're still in the race. They were first into one of the checkpoints. I think they're just working their way through the dynamic and will nail it down soon. They are the one team that seems to have that balance of "We're running a race and need to get our asses in gear" vs. "Wow, this is a kick-ass experience, I need to stop and cement this into my memory." And they hate the Yankees, which is never a bad thing.

Linz: Every season there's one team. If you just glance at their profile you'll see their athletic super-stars and place them in the top tier of competitors. But if you look closer you'll realize that the brain power just isn't there, and they're doomed for failure. Last season it was the brothers, this season it's the Linz siblings. I just didn't expect the breakdown quite this early in the season. They were running a challenge in which two team members were responsible for pushing or pulling an Amish horse buggy while two other team members rode inside. You could switch out team members, but it always had to be two and two. But what does this team of four athletes do? They leave the same two people as passengers until one of the guys is physically ill from the strain. And the sister who's a cheerleader and field hockey player (i.e. MAJOR athlete), well she can't push because she's a girl. Thankfully they ended up in a race for last with a team with MAJOR navigational issues, or we'd be saying goodbye to them right now.

Black: This team never really had it together. The kids are fine, but aren't particularly cute or amazingly athletic. No one was ever able to really give it the extra push. They had navigational issues, physical issues, decision-making issues (in my opinion, on the detour they picked the wrong thing considering the young kids involved). So now, they are gone. Unfortunately, other first eliminees got to at least say they made it to South America or Africa, the Blacks just get to say they've now met a Mennonite.

I am glad, although a bit amazed, that they don't seem to be adjusting the physical challenges at all to accomodate for the young ones. But the young ones left seem to be able to play with the big boys, so we shall see.

My final thought for the night turns to other reality TV. The Amazing Race has gotten it together for a US edition, it's time for other reality TV to do the same. Next season I really hope to see Survivor: Watts.

Not what we wanted
But this luggage is better
SECRET COMPARTMENT

If the Glass Slipper Fits

I have just witnessed what is, quite possibly, the most bizarre bit of cross-promotion ever.

Sweetie and I were watching "Who's Number 1?" on ESPN Classic. The topic this week was "Cinderella Stories." If you're not familiar with the show, they take a topic and rank the twenty best sports moments that fit the bill. Number 1 tonight was the Miracle on Ice.

And then, at the end of the show, running across the scroll at the bottom of the screen, "For more Cinderella Stories check out the special feature on Disney's Cinderella on DVD, available October 4th." (paraphrased from memory)

Is Disney going to sell even ONE extra DVD as a result of this promotion? Are the sports fans now clamoring to get that DVD? Now, I'm sure that someone such as Hugh, a sports fan who is father to two young girls, might end up buying the DVD and might enjoy the feature (I don't know if Hugh will be buying the DVD or not, he's just the only sports-fan with daughters and a blog I could think of), but I don't think people will go out and buy the DVD BECAUSE of this feature.

What will be next? Give me your best ideas. Hey, I'm looking for a job in marketing now... maybe I'll steal some of them and use 'em to land me a job!

D'OH!

Note to self:

Shower FIRST, THEN throw the load of whites into the washing machine. Unless you WANT a cold shower.

They Like Me, They Really Like Me

Unfortunately, by "they" I mean comment spammers, who have finally found my blog.

Effective immediately, word verification is on for comments.

Gracias!

Attack of the Lingerie

Today, for the first time in I can't remember how long, all of my delicates are laundered and put away at the same time. I'm not sure how, but I think my bras have spawned during that time, because I have about four times as many as I usually keep on hand, and some that I don't even recognize. THEY DON'T EVEN FIT IN THE DRAWER ANYMORE!!! I had to move the sports bras to a different drawer, and even then it's a tight fit.

Yet can I find it in me to throw away the dingy one that used to be white and is now grey from age and use? Oh no, because I may need it at some point in time.

The good news is that I've got SEVERAL choices in the funky color department now. Usually I try to have one fun one around at all times, but now there are three. Red, salmon, and lavendar. When did I buy a lavendar bra? Did Sweetie go buy it and sneak it in there at some point? Do I have lingerie gnomes adding to my stash?

Well, at least now I know I'll be adequately lifted and separated.

Oxymoron of the Day

McDonald's Executive Chef

I damn you Trent Green
No longer undefeated
My first player sucks

I believe in Trent
Big, bad Ben should never sit
Undefeated, please

Me and my toolbox
Improvising a drill bit
Yay for towel racks

SHUT UP!

Dear Oakland Athletics TV announcers:

I must insist you move on to new careers, and let someone worthwhile come in and take your place. I've got your game on now, and you're driving me insane!

Sin the first: You had a trivia question from Kelowna, B.C., yet one of you couldn't pronounce Kelowna correctly. Not a sin on its own, but I'm pretty sure you had the trivia question before the game started and could have found out before you went on the air.

Sin the second: You comment on how Oakland has a lot of fans in British Columbia, as if it's this strange anomaly. However, your short-season single-A team is the Vancouver Canadians. PERHAPS there are a lot of Oakland baseball fans in BC because of THIS. Hmmm... would have been a good thing to mention.

Sin the third: One of you started rambling about the San Diego Chargers quarterback or some such. The other had to remind you that you were announcing a BASEBALL game in OAKLAND.

Seriously, you're rambling on about boring things. Not that you don't get stuck occasionally in a nine-inning game, but there's got to be SOMETHING interesting going on at SOME point in time. And if you're going to ramble, at least ramble about things related to your game, your team, your town, so it's not a total non-sequitur.

Just for that, I'm rooting for Texas.

Regards,

An MLB Extra-Innings Subscriber.

Carbs until seven
Then, planning lobster dinner
Now, ceaseless eating

A Horrible Dilemma

Tomorrow I'm making lobster for my Sweetie to repay him for doing a very good deed. I'm also making us french onion soup, arugula salad, and mashed potatoes. Just one lobster will be sacrificing its life for the occassion, as I don't really like lobster that much, so can't justify the expense to make myself one. I'll have a bite or two of Sweetie's and be perfectly satisfied until next time we treat ourselves to a nice night out.

I've not cooked lobster before, so I turned to Julia Child for her advice. I've got a lot of cookbooks, and there are a lot of resources on the web, but I figure that if eating it involves copious amounts of butter then Julia is the expert. According to Julia the best way to prepare lobster at home is to steam it in a ginourmous pot. Unfortunately, I got rid of my ginormous pot in the move from the Tri-Cities to Seattle... it went bye-bye with all the rest of my homebrewing equipment that I just couldn't justify the space for. And I've never had an insert large enough to steam something in it, unless you can steam with a plastic colander, which I don't think would do too well.

So today I went in search of a big-ass pot in which to steam lobster. While out and about I came across a pasta pot, which seemed like it might do the trick. Then I remembered that I have a past pot at home -- gotta' love wedding registries!

I got home and examined the pot. It's large, but I don't know if it's large enough to cook a lobster in. I fear if I put a lobster in there that PETA would come after me for cruelty to the animal I was in the process of killing.

So here's the dilemma, do I force the lobster into the pasta pot, or do I go out tomorrow morning and buy myself a ginormous pot with steamer insert in which to steam the lobster? I can probably come up with some other uses for a ginormous pot in my future, but I'm not so sure about the steamer insert.

Man, life really sucks sometimes! I figure the best plan of attack is I will go out tomorrow morning to a couple of places, see if I can find something adequate for cheap, and if not I'll just make the lobster curl into a ball before I send him to his death.

This morning I woke
Cuddling with a ballpoint pen
I don't want to know

Jesus Was Way Cool

Today I applied for a job at a local university. Which shouldn't come as a shocker, given as I'm unemployed and actively job seeking at the moment. The university is of the Christian persuasion. As in, when you are completing the application you must indicate whether you agree with their statement of faith. You must answer questions regarding your spiritual life. They do not discriminate based on age, race or disability, but openly admit to discriminating based on religion (which is their right).

I consider myself a Christian, although I don't tend to advertise the fact, but the statement of faith was vague enough that I could wholeheartedly agree with everything said there, but if they dig a little deeper I fear I might not be Christian enough for them. The job is perfect for me, but if I don't get called in for an interview I'm going to chalk it up to the church I attend and go merrily on my way.

According to the student handbook "lifestyle expectations" students cannot engage in premarital or homosexual activities. You cannot possess alcohol or tobacco on campus, or off-campus at a school-related activity. You are not to drink alcohol while a student, unless it is part of a family custom. I bet they wouldn't be too pleased with my swearing like a sailor, either.

My version of Christianity doesn't worry itself with such things. Church events in my youth generally involved copious amounts of wine for the grown-ups. The church I attend performs same-sex unions right along with marriages. And although I think smoking is a nasty habit, I don't think it even comes up in the parts of Leviticus we choose to ignore. I prefer to focus on doing good deeds, working for social justice, and doing what I feel is right for now and evermore. I evangelize through my actions, not through announcing how groovy I think God is. My brother is a Hare Krishna, my best friend is married to a Jew, and I know I have actively agnostic and atheistic friends. Fine by me. If they want to talk religion with me I'm happy to do so, but at the end of it all it's going to be between me and God. I know everyone has heard the story that if you don't convert you're going straight to hell, so I don't think I need to be the one to condemn you to Hell.

An acquaintance works for the school, and he's a pretty cool guy, which gives me a little faith that this may all work out. But I'm trying to imagine if working there I will be a leper that has to play all Christian Goody Two-Shoes. I'm sure if it comes to the interview stage I'll be able to suss such things out.

If they ask me about my beliefs, I'll just quote them King Missile's song, I think they're on the right track:

Jesus was way cool
Everybody liked Jesus
Everybody wanted to hang out with him
Anything he wanted to do, he did
He turned water into wine
And if he wanted to
He could have turned wheat into marijuana
Or sugar into cocaine
Or vitamin pills into amphetamines

He walked on the water
And swam on the land
He would tell these stories
And people would listen
He was really cool

If you were blind or lame
You just went to Jesus
And he would put his hands on you
And you would be healed
That's so cool
He could've played guitar better than Hendrix
He could've told the future
He could've baked the most delicious cake in the world
He could've scored more goals than Wayne Gretzky
He could've danced better than Barishnikov
Jesus could have been funnier than any comedian you can think of
Jesus was way cool

He told people to eat his body and drink his blood
That's so cool
Jesus was so cool
But then some people got jealous of how cool he was
So they killed him
But then he rose from the dead
He rose from the dead, danced around
Then went up to heavenI mean, that's so cool
Jesus was way cool

No wonder there are so many Christians

See the clean condo
All the bags of recycling
Don't look in the den

Haiku of the Day

There's been a lot of Haiku in my life lately.

First, Sweetie declared International Haiku Day on 5/7/05

Next thing you know, we're composing Wedding Haiku to engrave in our rings.

Then, at Kaphine and Realsupergirl's wedding Shanamadele and her partner wrote and read a series of Haiku at the reception.

And today, Pesky Apostrophe has a contest to win a copy of Pam Anderson's new book which, as I mention in my entry, I don't really want but I can't pass up the opportunity to write bizarre Haiku.

Which has inspired me to a new feature of the House of Swank blog. So I'm going to write a haiku a day. We'll see how long it lasts.

The Rule of Swank

At its inception the House of Swank had many rules to maintain order in the kingdom. Such rules included:

• Houseguests are limited to three nights a week, one weekend night and two weekday nights, without prior permission from your fellow Swanks.
• Treat foods (such as ice cream) are purchased for your individual use. You may not raid the other Swanks' stash without express permission prior to the invasion.
• In the kitchen, if you made the mess you clean the mess, unless negotiations have previously been made.
• In the rest of the house, clean as you feel necessary, and don't get pissed if the housemate is less anal than you and doesn't feel the need to clean the top of the door jambs.

The House of Swank has been through many moves since that original apartment, and now the Swanks are a married couple and a cat, rather than two swinging single girls and their houseboy who liked to crash on one of the many futons available. However, one very important rule still applies:

• When we run out of glasses, the party is over.

In the original House of Swank it was almost a challenge that Kaphine and I put upon ourselves. Because we were two swingin' single girls whose housewares complemented each other well, except we were both well stocked when it came to glasses.

Now, it just scares me. I'm almost done with the unpacking of the kitchen, and even with the amount of culling that's been done over the last year (between my moving in and upgrading with the wedding) we've got a LOT of glassware. An inventory:

• 10 ruby red tumblers, inherited from Grandma, that Mom and Grandpa used to get by drinking Pepsi, but are totally swank so cannot be given away. They also have a beverage pitcher that coordinates that looks exactly like the Kool-Aid logo. OH YEAH!
• 8 silver-rimmed tumblers, also inherited from Grandma, and also too Swank to donate.
• 6 Kenyon college tumblers. If I even thought of disposing of these it would be grounds for divorce in Sweetie's eyes, and that makes them super-swank.
• 12 white Crate and Barrel coffee mugs, that coordinate with the new dishes.
• 1 Kenyon coffee mug (see above)
• 2 Tri-City Dust Devils coffee mugs. The sentimental attachment is strong, and they are perfect soup mugs.
• 3 Coca-Cola glasses. I think it's a crime to dispose of these.
• 3 Polo-logoed double old fashioned glasses. I'm not particularly attached to the look, but I love double old fashioneds, and these are the only ones we've got.
• 6 Port glasses. Monogrammed, Christmas present to Sweetie from his sister this year.
• 7 random liquer glasses. Antique.
• 4 shot glasses. Two with senitmental value.
• 8 generic wine glasses.
• 3 lead crystal wine glasses, a going-away present from the party rental shop I worked at in college (from the stash of people's personal items that accidentally got returned to us and never got claimed).
• 2 etched wine glasses, with coordinating charms, from my friends' wedding shower a few years ago.
• 3 champagne flutes (I believe they were all 21st birthday presents, one pair and one solo)
• 1 Willamette Vineyard wine glass, from a wine tasting I attended once upon a time.
• 1 completely random wine glass that I have NO IDEA where it came from.
• 1 22 oz pilsner from Caroline's comedy club
• 8 generic beer pilsners
• 4 Rogue brewery pint glasses (2 Rogue logo, 2 Yellow Snow logo)
• 12 coffee cups, coordinating with the china pattern (minimum, I'm too lazy to go count those)

I honestly don't know when I developed this glass fetish, and frankly it scares me. So, anyone want a drink?

1-800-WHAT-THE???

Tonight the NFL is doing a big hurricane relief charity drive. Regis is helping host, and they are encouraging you to call in to make a donation to the Bush/Clinton charity. (The SwankPoet household considered making a donation to the Bush/Clinton charity yesterday, but we couldn't find favorable information on how much money is swiped away for administrative stuff, so we went safe and gave to the Red Cross.)

It's a telethon! And to encourage you to call in they've got a stage-full of NFL hall of famers that might take your call. Of course, there are only like 10-20 guys on stage, so chances are a taiwanese child working in a sweatshop will get the call, but we are going to gloss over that little bit right now.

Call in and you might get on the phone with the likes of Donovan McNabb, John Elway, Gale Sayers, Howie Long, Bart Starr, or Tony Danza. Yep, you read that right - Tony Danza. Now, if this was a boxing match telethon I could almost understand it, as he always seemed to be playing boxers on TV (although I'd be a bit worried if I were watching a boxing telethon, but enough tangents already). But what the HECK is he doing sitting amongst some of the greatest football players ever answering the phone calls?

I've figured it out. He must have won a contest. They always say employees and their families aren't eligible to win, but the rules never say anything about famous people. Personally, if I WERE to call in and Tony Danza were to answer the phone I'd demand he pay me.

QWERTY

I just finished taking the typing test for the employment agency. I average about 70 words a minute, despite the fact that my accuracy blows, and rather than just going back and correcting mistakes later, I'll delete a word or two to correct a typo and then re-type what was missed. I blame it on how I developed my typing skills.

I have a confession to make that might qualify me for the "Biggest Nerd Ever" award. I took typing the summer between 7th and 8th grade. In summer school. Just for fun.

My brother was in summer school that summer as well. He had failed some course necessary for high school graduation, and was making it up at that time. I just wanted to take typing. We each had our Tri-Met bus pass, and would go every morning and hop the #65 which took us straight up 185th to Aloha High School.

The only problem with taking typing as an 8th grader (at least circa 1984) is that you're not going to use those skills until the 10th grade, and by the time you have any typing to do you've completely forgotten how to do it. That led to several years of speed hunt-and-peck. I full re-learned my typing skills my Senior year of college. Oregon State University's computer labs had a typing tutor program installed on them that had you type words quickly to avoid alien invasion, or some similarly cheesy sort of activity. I used to play on that when procrastinating or taking a break from a paper. Yeah, see, World's Biggest Nerd!

But I don't regret it, because were it not for that summer school typing class I might not have such an affection for public transportation. Because were it not for that class I don't know that my parents would have gotten me a bus pass. The pass got me to and from school in the mornings, but after that it was all mine. For the next year or two it got me to the swimming pool, which I would go to almost daily. A year or two down the line, it would get me to the local mall or downtown. The summer I was 15 it got me to and from Driver's Ed classes. A lot of suburban kids don't know how to get from here to there without a car involved. Mom and Dad drive them everywhere until they're 16, and then they've got a car of their own. Me, I had the world at my doorstep. Or at least the West side of Portland.

All because I'm a nerd who took typing. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.

Big, Bad Ben

This morning on Sunday NFL Countdown they did a feature regarding NFL players and motorcycle use. Ben Roethlisberger announced that he rides a motorcyle without wearing a helmet. His boss hasn't forbidden him, so it's his choice.

Well, Ben, you've got more than one coach you work for now. You were drafted onto "The New Kid" last weekend (my fantasy football team), and you were one of my highlight players last week. And although your coach over at the Steelers might not care if you don't wear a helmet, I care, and want you to start wearing a helmet immediately. Yes, I understand that you only ride in the off-season, and during the season you have a remote control motorcycle you play with, but just for safety's sake I'd like you to start wearing a helmet when you play with that as well.

You're in your second year in the NFL. You have a chance to be a cornerstone of my team for many years to come. Don't make me depend on Trent Green and Matt Hasselsuck for QB'ing duties! And don't go tell me I can go find myself another QB, because then I'll be stuck with the likes of Kyle Orton, and Ryan Leaf might be more desirable than that!

Seriously, dude, motorcycles are DANGEROUS! I'd prefer if you didn't ride one at all, but I've ridden on a motorcycle a couple of times in my life, so that would be hypocritical, but I must insist that you wear a helmet. I'd prefer if you wore full leathers, but I'll even accept it if you wear short sleeves and shorts as long as you have the helmet on!

Now, you're on the bench this week because of your shoulder problems. I'm expecting the loss, as I picked against you in the underdog pool (which I wouldn't have done if you were not injured, so don't go getting a complex or something), so you've got a week to think about it.

At least my other star player, Deuce McAllister, goes out and helps hurricane victims, so must be a good guy. I can only deal with one problem child at a time.

Take THAT Kinko's!

With this-here internet thingamabob it is now entirely possible to do a large perecentage of your job-seeking while wearing a robe, sprawled out on the couch with Jerry Springer playing in the background. Not that I would do that, of course... I get up and get dressed every morning (although in much more casual clothes than I would normally wear to work), and I much prefer The People's Court to Jerry Springer.

Seriously, though, it's amazing. In some ways it has made job-searching INCREDIBLY easy. Not only can you find jobs and submit cover letters and resumes via e-mail, but you can also POST your resumes to sites like Monster.com and recruiters will CALL YOU with job opportunities. I've gotten three such calls so far. They've all been for jobs in the field that I am attempting to leave. I've informed all of them that I was hoping to LEAVE the field, and hence the reason I'm looking for a job right now. I informed them of what I'm hoping to do, and the first two said they'd keep an eye open for me, but don't hold my breath. Lucky #3, however, had another job that may fit the bill. I've got an interview on Monday at the employment agency, and pending how that goes we may move to the next step of interviewing with the company.

Have you ever worked with an employment agency before? You know all those annoying tests you have to take to test your software prowess? Well, I get to do those from the comfort of my laptop as well. They send me a link with a login and password, and I just go in sometime over the weekend and knock 'em out.

How will Kinko's manage to stay in business? I mean, without the unemployed going in to photocopy resumes, how will they earn their keep?

There is one thing I miss about the old paper resumes being plopped into the mail, and that is the fact that in the current mode of job search it is entirely possible to never leave your house until you get to the interview stage of the game. Which can lead to some EXTREME cabin fever! I've got myself a little routine that I'm working with now, where I go out of the house twice a day, once in the morning and once in the afternoon, to run some stupid kind of errand or another, or I'd be suffering from some severe cabin fever.

So, on the whole I'm feeling good about things. Last night while lying in bed attempting to sleep I even came up with the perfect response to the inevitable question as to why I'm looking to jump industries.... the socialist in me just couldn't remain in such a capitalist industry. (Not that I'm THAT much of a socialist, but given that I'm looking at a lot of non-profit type places, it will fit. And given that me, with my middle-of-the-road politics was practicaly a communist compared to my co-workers at the last job, well, it fits.)

The Power of Two

Today I strode up to the meat counter of my preferred grocery store and requested two slices of bacon. When you request two slices of bacon the meat-person helping you will not allow you to have said bacon without disclosing what you are using the bacon for -- skillet corn with bacon and onion. And I'm sure that they'll be talking about me all day today, in a not very positive manner, as that chick who came in to buy two slices of bacon.

But the beauty of bulk bacon is that you can buy EXACTLY how much you need, without having leftover temptation left in the house. Although, to be honest, I could have gotten away with just one slice of bacon, but I didn't want to go to the meat counter and request one slice of bacon.

A girl has her limits.

Good Workout CD #6

I bet you forgot I was on a quest to listen to all the CDs in our collection while working out, to determine what makes a good workout CD because it's been a while since I've posted a review. That would be because it's been a while since I've been to the gym. Just about 2 months as a matter of fact.

I'm glad that the first workout back had a good CD to go along with it. I've managed to lose a few pounds since my last trip to the gym, and the workout went better than I expected, but not as well as I had hoped.

The CD that got me through it: Barenaked Ladies, Retail Spectacle. It's a compilation of songs off their first four albums that was distributed to record stores for promotional use, and I picked up a copy once upon a time at 2nd Avenue Records in Portland. You could probably subsitute Rock Spectacle in a pinch.

Barenaked ladies write music made for working out to. It's poppy, wacky, and easy to sing along to. The mix on Retail Spectacle brings the lows in at just the right points. My only complaint is a flip of a complaint I've had in the past - when you work out to this CD (that's just over 56:00 long) you want to work out to the whole darn thing. It's not just that "If I Had $1,000,000" is the last track, but the mix with the highs and the lows just lend it to a complete listening. Today I only managed to make it halfway through, but I know it will make it into heavy rotation once the project is over. Especially since this is the only BNL I currently own on CD.

Will Work For a Reasonable Salary

I'm unemployed. Have been for nearly a week. Haven't said anything sooner, because my parents have recently left on an adventure and I wanted to tell them in person rather than having them read it on my blog. Every career change I've had since graduating college has taken place while my parents are traveling. This trip they were orginally going to leave last Thursday, but then decided that if they could get stuff together soon enough they'd leave on Wedensday. They did leave on Wednesday, same day I left my job. That's kind of a creepy correlation there.

It was sort of sudden, but when your work is abusing your willingness to put in the extra effort and giving you more work than one person can reasonably accomplish, and when it's just a J-O-B for you, well it's time to get out.

I took the end of last week to regroup and try to get my body back into some sort of normal state, sleeping well, eating well, chilling out. The goal was to hit the jackpot while in Vegas this weekend, but that didn't quite happen, so off I go to find something to help pay the bills.

I'm feeling very encouraged, as there appear to be a LOT of jobs (20+ that I can currently apply for through the resources I've used thus far), that qualify as worthwhile employment to me. As in, I could do something that I am good at and enjoy while earning a meaningful salary. I'm looking toward event planning, training, and program management types of stuff. Focusing on schools and non-profits, but I'm willing to work for capitalists as well (just seems like most of what I'm looking for is within the non-profit/education arena).

Of course, if someone wanted to pay me to just sit at home and blog all day I'd be open to that as well. So, if you know of any job opportunities there, or want to hire me, just let me know.

Broken Promises

Vegas was, as expected, a BLAST. There were ten of us there for our fantasy football draft, and not a stinker among the group, so it was one of those really cool situations where you would just randomly end up in different pairings and groupings of people having conversations and what-not.

I'm not wholly unsatisfied with the team I put together. And I've already learned a lot about the way things work to help me in future drafts (such as how to read the list correctly to translate a players fantasy value vs. his real value). Ben Roethlisberger and Deuce McAllister are my two favorite players, mainly because they were the ones scoring the most for me in the morning games that we watched on Sunday. Trent Green and I are going to have issues, so even though he was the first member of my team he may become a bench warmer pretty darn soon. And it looks like I'm gonna' win at least one game this year (unless Warrick Dunn scores 21 fantasy points this evening, but that's HIGHLY unlikely).

Football is much more fun to watch when you have money riding on it, and as much fun as fantasy football is I may be having more fun with the underdog pool that Sweetie started this year. Here's how it works: Every week you pick an underdog to win their game. If they win the game you win the number of points they were under on the line. At the end of the season the person with the most points wins the money. I went big money this week, picking New Orleans to win over Carolina. The Saints weren't allowed to lose, as the citizens of New Orleans have been through enough lately and it was up to the Saints to show them a little hope in the world. And I was right. For a while it looked like it was going to go into overtime, and we got to see one of those wacky plays from Carolina where they hope that the Saints get bored and go home before they drop the ball, but my guys pulled it out. So now me and one other person have 7 points in the pool, and everyone else has 0. YEAH!

Sweetie and I even managed to do OK with the gambling, and basically came out even where we went in.

So there was really only one big dissapointment this weekend. One of our friends gave Sweetie and I each a bet in Vegas for a wedding gift. Before we left for the weekend Sweetie and I decided that the bets would be sports bets, that we would each place our own bet, and that it would not be a futures event so we would have instant results. I had decided I wanted to place my bet on football, since we were in Vegas for football. So Saturday we're at Imperial Palace, and while Sweetie is figuring out the record of each NFL team this season for the over/under, and his brother and sister-in-law are figuring the outcome of every Monday Night game, I decide to look at the lines for Sunday to place my bet. Green Bay is three point underdogs to Detroit, which gives them really good odds. I like Green Bay. And as much as I might like Joey Harrington, his performance in the NFL hasn't exactly been spectacular thus far. Worst case, if we lose the bet, I get some brownie points with Dad for putting money on his home team.

I'm standing there in the sports book contemplating this bet aloud and two very drunk guys guarantee me that Green Bay will win the game, so I should be free to place the bet. I question them as to how they can promise me this. They are from Wisconsin. The primary drunk is wearing a Milwaukee Brewers t-shirt and has a Green Bay helmet charm on a chain around his neck. I question him as to if he is one of those fans who will wear a wedge of cheese on his head, and his response was, "No! But sometimes you're tailgating and you're drunk and someone else puts it on your head, and then it would be rude not to wear it."

Yet I still placed the bet. And lost the bet. But if my biggest Vegas dissapointment is that a bet I place with someone else's money doesn't go my way, well that's alright by me.

BINGBINGBINGBING!

This evening Sweetie and I are headed off to VEGAS BAY-BEE!

It will be my second time there. Last time was two years ago when I tagged along for Sweetie's fantasy football draft. This year I'm an expansion team in the league, so shall be drafting right alongside him, rather than escaping to the nickel slots for that time. I'm looking forward to it! As an expansion team I'm guaranteed to suck this year, so the fact that I'm practically clueless on how it all works will be a moot point. I get the first pick in the expansion draft, and looking at how things play out at the moment I will likely use that first pick to pilfer someone off Sweetie's team, but I could be wrong on that.

The thing I'm really most trepidatious about is Sunday, when we are in the Sports Book with the express purpose of watching all these NFL games play out. I perfectly enjoy watching football in the comfort of my own home, or even someone else's home, but it can be a bit overwhelming in the sports book. They've got ALL the games showing SIMULTANEOUSLY. Everyone will start cheering about something cool that happened in one of the games, but by the time I've figured out what screen they're looking at they're on to cheering about something else. According to Sweetie I just need to pay attention to teams that are in the red zone, which is all well and good, but it's not like they flag those screens special... maybe if they put a red outline around them or something it would be easier. Last time in town I used this for quality time with the nickel slots as well.

I'm a bit encouraged, as during last night's game I was able to make a call before the refs did. We won't dwell on the fact that the call was delay of game, so it simply entailed me looking at a clock on the screen and seeing that it said "0." Also, I'll have something at stake in watching these games. One of our fantasy football cohorts is giving Sweetie and I each a $50 bet as a wedding gift (we have the option of combining the bets, but have decided not to). Sweetie and I have made the rule that we must both bet on events that will be won or lost while we are still in Vegas, and I have made the additional rule for myself that it must be on football. No clue what that bet is going to be yet, but if you've got any suggestions let me know.

As it stands, the goal is to hit a huge jackpot so Sweetie and I can buy a house with the proceeds. We'll let you know on Monday how that plays out. Odds are against us.

Let Me Hear Your Body Talk

I am a type A personality that tends to thrive on stress. To the point where anyone who knows me that just read that statement said, "Well, DUH!" To the point that I have prescription eyeglasses. Which doesn't make a lot of sense as an independent statement, but ask my optometrist and he'll back me up. The prescription is so slight that if I were a type B slob with no attention to detail my brain probably wouldn't even register that my vision wasn't perfect, but because I'm a type A detail-oriented type person the brain registers the smallest little imperfection. (Although, with it being such a slight prescription, I really only need to use my glasses when I'm doing a LOT of reading).

Pretty much any semi-chronic malady I suffer from is at least partially attributed to stress. Sensitive gums, zits, weak tendons, all the health-care professionals I've ever seen on these issues have pointed to stress as at least one of the culprits.

I know my stress. And my body knows my stress. And in some ways that really sucks, but in some ways it's a wonderful relationship to have with your body. As someone who thrives on stress I sometimes manage to pile it on super-thick. Sometimes it's self-inflicted, and other times it's brought on by others and I just don't bother to say, "No, thank you" to the stress. And when I start to reach the limit of my stress my body will give me warnings: insomnia, upset stomach, general malaise, so that I have a chance to chill out and get myself back in check.

And if that warning doesn't work my body isn't afraid to kick me to the curb and take me out, where I'm gonna' take a break from life whether I want to or not. Which is no fun whatsoever at all, but really helps get me back on the right track because a forced absence from work, school, life, etc. is definitely a way to get the stress back in check.

The body started to kick me to the curb recently, took me out for a wee bit. It was one day down, which isn't much fun, but I've been out for up to a week before, and that's a lot less fun. And now I'm back on my feet and getting everything in check to go forward full speed ahead.

So that's why the blogging has been a bit on the sparse side lately, but I expect there to be lots of content showing up real darn soon. Stay tuned...

First, Last and Only

Today I got to brave the horror known as the driver's licensing office in the ongoing quest to get myself officially known as Mrs. SwankPoet.

There was a woman sitting next to me who was of the chatty variety. At one point I almost made eye contact with her, and she asked if I was there to take my test. I informed her that, no, I was changing my name. Her response was something to the effect, of, "Oh, Congratulations on getting married again!"

Um, again? AGAIN??? Now the licensing office is in a socio-economically challenged pocket, and I'm sure that it hosts its fare share of single parents, multiple marriages, a wide variety of situations, but why would you immediately think I was getting married AGAIN? I mean, I know at 33 I may have been considered an old maid by some, but give me a little credit.

I'm always going to give people the benefit of the doubt. There are two situations in which I might use the phrase "Congratulations on getting married again!"

1. If someone known, like my half-brother, were to get married again. Of course, it would be marriage number 5 for him if he were to take that plunge, so it would be a factually correct statement. Well, the again part would be, not so sure about the congratulations part, since he doesn't really have good luck with weddings. Wife #3, the wedding in which I was a bridesmaid, lasted about 6 months.

2. If someone were to have children of vastly disparate ages I might make a presumption, particularly if those children were of obviously different racial background. When it's obvious that there are multiple fathers involved, it seems more likely that there are multiple marriages as well. But even then, I don't think I'm going to tack that "again" on there.

For the record, there will be no agains for this girl, I've got myself a hubby that I'm holding on to until the bitter end.

Brother, Can You Spare a Twenty?

I got my first car at the age of 16. It was a 1978 Plymouth Horizon, white with red-orange interior, named Tristan. If I was running on empty I could take a $10 bill to the gas station and come out with change.

In 2000 I was driving Yoshi the Yuppiemobile. A 1996 teal green Nissan Sentra. I was in Portland, at the Union 76 that's on the approach to the west end of the Ross Island Bridge in Portland (can't, for the life of me, remember the name of the street, but I remember what gas station I was at). I had pulled a $20 out of my purse to pay the nice man who was pumping my gas for me, and I had to go back into the purse for more money before the pumping was done. It was one of those "I'm getting old" moments, because old people always talk about how gas cost a nickel a tank when they were kids.

Today, at the Chevron at 40th and 148th in Redmond, while driving Zeb the Zubaru (a 2001 Forester) the bill came to $42 and change.

It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't all that surprising, either. It definitely helped heighten the awareness of consumption, and may cause me to rethink some things. But that's not why this sparked me. The thing that's been eating at me for the last 6 hours is how do today's teenagers do it?

I'm sure everyone in my age bracket has, on multiple occassions, put $1 or $2 gas in their car. I'm also pretty damn confident that we've all had at least that one time when the car was bone dry and you were dirt broke and you scrounged the car for change so you could scrape together 82 cents to get yourself home. Now, if you're lucky, that 82 cents will just get you to the next gas station. So unless you have a car that spontaneously generates loose change you're plum outta' luck.

And now the reminiscing has seriously gone overboard, as I am thinking back fondly to a car that used to continue to run after you pulled the key out of the ignition.

Keep on Trikin'

The continuing news on Katrina overwhelms me. I get most of my news from NPR, and have been purposefully avoiding news that might come with pictures, but tonight the pictures found me. And it is even more mind-staggering than I can imagine. My thoughts and prayers go out to everyone there, everyone who was there, everyone who knows someone who is there and on and on and on...

And it really has me missing the innocence of my youth. The first 4-1/2 years of my life I lived in St. Louis, Missouri. Which means that tornadoes are on the list of natural disasters you may have to face. There was a tornado warning from that time that I remember. What I remember is that my Mom came and woke me up in the middle of the night - which was probably around 11 o'clock at night, but I'd been asleep and it was dark out, so it was the middle of the night to me. We were going to be sleeping in the basement that night because of the tornado warning. So we headed down, and as my parents were setting up the accomodations my brother and I rode our tricycles.

I think we escaped the tornado, which I'm sure skews the memory, but in my four year old mind this was a fun adventure. I get to ride my trike in the basement in the middle of the night! Bring it on!

Oh, if only life were that easy. I'm sure things were a lot more difficult and worrisome for my parents. And I'm thankful that now I live in an area where my natural disaster threats are earthquakes and volcanoes, which seem a lot more manageable to me than hurricanes are. I just wish there were something I could do from this distance besides throwing some money into the pot.