My house can beat up your house

Yesterday I went to an Open House at a home down the street. They are asking quite a bit of dough for this little abode, and since it is smaller than our house, I figured I'd do a comparison. Because, if they can get that much money for a home smaller than ours, we're rich! Well, sorta. Rich on paper. Rich in that not-able-to-actually-spend-money sort of way. Rich with equity, that ethereal wealth that allows you to borrow yourself into even greater debt than you already are.

Well, the house was cute. Small, as I said, but laid out in a more traffic friendly manner than our house. Our house is like a railroad car. Long and narrow. And man, was this house clean! Like really clean. I'm sure the real estate agent had the owners pack up everything that showed evidence of their habitation. They staged the house. I know this from all my HGTV watching. Though I doubt the staging was done by some middle aged leprechaun on steroids . And sure enough, there in the basement (the basement you can actually stand up in without hitting your head...one point to little house) boxes and bins as far as the eye can see.

Other bonus features of the home, besides the basement where you don't risk splitting open your skull, is that it has three bedrooms. Three! We only have two. I stood at the top of the stairs trying to figure out how they managed another bedroom, then I realized it. No bathroom. Just one normal sized bedroom and two absurdly small ones. That means the occupants of the 3 bedrooms have to share the one bath...downstairs. No thank you.

So in the end, our house wins. Not by a ton, but it's nicer over all. I'll keep my eye out and see when this one sells. Then adjust my net worth accordingly. Perhaps this newly enjoyed capital could be leveraged into a dishwasher. Oh, or even perhaps a garbage disposal. Fancy.

Quote of the Week: #4 (Combustion Chamber)

This week I was on the hunt for a blog quote with the word "combustion chamber" (courtesy of Lang at Dirty Old Prom Queen, last weeks winner). Well, it's proven a little tough. There are quite a few mentions of combustion chambers, but they are all referring to engines and spark plugs.

Example:

The Hemi is short for hemispherical combustion chamber, which creates more efficient fuel burning and allows larger valves for better airflow.
www.blogthefool.blogspot.com

How fascinating.

So, I took the liberty of splitting the words up.

First, combustion.

This search also led to a lot of engine talk, especially of the internal combustion variety. Blah. In a surprising turn, I also found blogs where people write about spontaneous human combustion. Quite a lot actually.

I think I may have solved the mystery of spontaneous combustion! Smokers who bathe in highly flammable, alcohol based perfumes! POOF!
www.rolyatcire.blogspot.co

Good Theory.

Then there is chamber.

God, this was almost worse than combustion chamber. When you set chamber all alone, you get political blogs. Not interesting commentary kind of political blogs, but mind numbing minutes from Zoning meetings and a lot of talk about your local Chamber of Commerce.

And what's more boring than the Chamber of Commerce? How about Chamber music. Not sure what it is exactly, but it sounds boring. Not so boring that people don't blog about it, because they do. Too much. But apparently, being in a Chamber Choir, is not cool. Because to be treated like you're in a chamber choir, is an insult.

We were larger, around 60, but the fact that we were all young and didn't have fully developed voices allowed our conductor to treat us, effectively, like a chamber choir.
www.kermitthefroghere.blogspot.com

Conductors. What assholes.

So, with the pickings a little slim, I completely obliterated my own guidelines by picking a quote from a guy with a blog that has chamber in the title.

THE QUOTE OF THE WEEK

Because, as I learned as a boy, Whether the horses fight or fuck, it is always the grass that gets trampled.
The Star Chamber

Honorable Mention

Who knew? The Oakmont Pennsylvania Chamber of Commerce has the cutest. website. ever.
www.iheartpgh.com

They pay you so much. Why can't you read?

When you have shit for me, put it in my inbox. I know you have shit to give me, hence the existence of this inbox. Taking your shit is my job. But there is a place to deliver this shit, and it is labeled with big black letters that spell 'INBOX.'

MY CHAIR IS NOT MY INBOX.

It is where I sit. If you put shit on my chair, I will only pick it up and put it in my inbox. Which is yet another task you could have done for yourself, that I have to do for you.

Thank you.

I am the next American Idol...of my couch.

I have Freedom 90 by George Michael stuck in my head.

Last night J showed me a new feature on our cable service. On Demand Karaoke.

Unfortunately, the selections are sparse and somewhat lame. After renditions of Broken Wings and Smooth Criminal, I forced him to play Freedom 90, only to realize that I knew the chorus and not much else. J didn't know the song at all, so he didn't sing. Which is a problem, since I am tone deaf, and he, with the voice of an angel, serves as a much-needed guide through melodic territory. So I embarked solo, trying to hear what my ear will not, and recreate the sound, so clear in my brain, with my vocal chords. It was painful. Probably more for J than for me. Coupled with the fact I didn't really know the song, my squawks and tonal misfires must have been torture. I wonder if he is rethinking the plan to mix his musically superior DNA with my tragically unharmonious genes.

Thinking about that, I have become aware that on the list of desirable traits, there is a sad emptiness on my side of the column.

Things I hope a kid gets from J:
Musical ability
That beautiful smile
Pretty blue eyes
Desire to understand and install electronic components

Things I hope a kid gets from me:
Enjoyment of reading and writing
Ability to learn from television
Um, love of crab legs? (Just so someone will eat them with me. J calls them cockroaches of the ocean. Ruins the mood.)

Then there are the things that I hope we avoid passing along.

Things I hope a kid does not get from J:
Need for gadgets and dohickys
Belief in bizarre superstitions
Love of dangerous vehicles ("Putting a baby seat in a Wrangler is totally safe!")
Picky eating habits
Difficulty remembering plans already discussed and solidified

Things I hope a kids does not get from me:
Laziness
Frizzy hair
Hairy arms
Short legs
Absurdly small but wide feet

God, I sound like a troll.

slave to the system...

It's a good thing the Casino is so far away. I successfully parlayed my $400 into $845, which has induced delusions of grandeur and thoughts of becoming a professional gambler. This, of course, is a horrible idea. Gambling, in general, is a suckers pursuit. I am fully aware that if our stay at Foxwoods was one more day, I would have undoubtedly given all my winnings back...plus an additional chunk from my checking account. So luckily, due to personal geography, I remain a winner.

Until the next visit.

And a big Ha! to the dude who kept giving me dirty looks and exasperated sighs when I didn't hit on 16. Sometimes you have to feel it, buddy. And I was feeling the paint, so there. And I was right...sometimes.

Hit me!

Tomorrow I am heading to the casino to get my black jack on. The trip is my Christmas present from J. Casinos bore him, but my addictive personality LOVES it. So he is nice enough to tolerate the jingle jangle clangy warble while I experience all the giddy highs and stomach dropping lows Foxwoods has to offer.

In a strange coincidence, at yesterday's All Company meeting, they distributed our profit sharing checks. At first I was happy, but now I kinda wish they handed them out after my gambling spree.

Wish me luck!

Oh! On a end note:If you didn’t check out the previous post, or its comments, then you may not know that the secret word (or words) for next week is 'combustion chamber.' Come Sunday, get to blogging...please. Because I already checked out what would have been eligible this week, and it ain't pretty. And I'd prefer to skip over all the car bloggers. It was like being stuck in a Motor Trend magazine. I dealt with enough geeky engineer types in college.

(Sorry if you identify as a geeky engineer type, especially those from Virginia Tech...I love anyone who happens to grace this area, geeky motorheads and all).

Quote of the Week: #3

Okay, I know it's Thursday, not Friday, but I'm going to be super busy tomorrow and out of town this weekend, so no blogging.

I'm a little concerned that all my Quote of the Week posts are so long. In its purist form, I suppose there should be the quote, and that's it. But sometimes it's the journey, not the destination, no? And this week was quite a journey.

I tried yet another new approach. I used the "search all blogs" button. My plan was to type in a phrase that would result in something timely and interesting. So I chose "Valentine's Day was" and clicked to see what came up.

Looks like bloggers are not big on adjectives, because all I really got was "Valentine's Day was fun" or "good" or "awesome!" There were a couple "horribles" but mostly it seems the blogosphere had a "nice" Februrary 14th.

Here are a couple semi-interesting sentences I found:

Fat Kids Valentines Day was kind of a bust. Except for the fat part.
http://kaputla.livejournal.com

Well like usual my valentines day was drunk and full of singlehood.
http://koopy21.livejournal.com/

Not exactly Quote of the Week material, huh?

So instead I go to the other happening. No, not the Vice President's trigger happy happening. The Olympics!

Here's what a search for "watching the Olympics" produced:

I haven't been watching the Olympics this week due to a combination of studying and "studying." Ooohh maybe Gyasi and I can make it a drinking game this weekend. I just want to see the curling, dammit.
http://jlg4.livejournal.com/

So I'm up late watching the olympics. Yeah it is in lower-case cause i'm not sure it deserves an upper-case character.
www.chriscam.com/

Nothing like watching the Olympics and eating something that could result in a heart attack. YES!
www.beckteria.blogspot.com

eh? Better than Valentine's Day, but still not quite up to par. With options dwindling and no desire to search for Dick Cheney's shooting rampage, I search for "Nacho"(because, you know, this is all about me). Of course, when bloggers use the word "nacho", they are referring to the corn chip variety, not the me variety.

This was not too successful either, thanks to Jack Black. Apparently, he has a new movie coming out called Nacho Libre, and people found themselves needing to blog about it.

All but this weirdo...

i get the chips, because, well everyone knows - ducks cannot survive without spicy nacho chip picnics. i talk to animals. no, not like doolittle silly rabbits! casual conversation.
http://spaces.msn.com/tarhead/

With the week nearing its end, I begin to lose motivation. Then I have my epiphany.

This weekly feature is in need of streamlining, but how do I navigate the busy and cluttlered blogosphere to find random statements that don't seem 1) complete arbitrary and 2) suck ass because of all the crap there is to wade through. Maybe if I make it more systematic, then I won't have a novel preceeding every Quote of the Week, explaining the trials and tribulations of quote hunting.

So this is what I propose:

Though the "Search All Blogs" button did not yield all that much this week, I will utilize it next week. Someone will decide on a word, one word, that next weeks Quote must contain. It will keep the search a little more narrow and less headache producing. And who gets to decide what that word is? Well, it's the Quote of the Week winner, of course!

That is if they answer my email, or blog comment, or however I decide to contact them.

This weeks winner was found with the last ditch effort of the "Next Blog" button.

Good find, for sure. Not only is she funny, but she meets the criteria of low comments AND she blogged about the Olympics. Score. I am willing to overlook the fact that she is much (well, not THAT much) younger than me, most likely prettier than me (if she was, in fact, a prom queen), funnier than me and writes better than me. Perhaps she is even blogroll worthy. (Hey Dog Blog, you're in trouble mister. What's up with the updates? Dirty Old Prom Queen may just overthrow your ass).

I give you the last, completely random...

QUOTE OF THE WEEK

It's time for me to well up with tears at the slightest hint of the somber yet inspirational Olympic overture; and then to weep uncontrollably at the countless stories of struggle and dedication, while I bathe myself in orange soda and Pizza Hut popper pizzas.
www.dirtyoldpromqueen.blogspot.com

And I'll throw her another bone, so hopefully she'll play along.

Honorable Mention

Every time I find myself sporting a new Taz tattoo, soaked in burbon at 3 AM on the floor of Zeta Phi Beta Lambda, where do I crawl? Right over to the beer pong table. That's where I fashion a paddle made out of my own hand and begin to practice against a cup. I've never lost. And if you think that empty cup is letting me win...think again.
www.dirtyoldpromqueen.blogspot.com

In the mood to ramble

I know I said 'more later' in my previous post, but not in the mood, so here's the short version:

We drive around having no clue where the hell we are going. At one point, the road even turns to sand. By some miracle we actually find the restaurant and I fall in love with the little fishing village it's in. The town is a complete dilapidated wreck, but it's remote and cute and on the water...and everybody talks funny. I want to buy one of the little bungalows that is falling over for the $20 it looks like it's worth, get a boat and commence my new existence as a salty dog. But then dinner is over and so is my fantasy. Next time I visit the area, I will investigate further. The End.

On a completely unrelated note...

I want to comment on all this hubbub about Cheney shooting some guy. I get that it's news. I mean, that's the Vice President, and he shot somebody, I understand. But the deal the media is making out of the timing of briefings and all the "why did you wait until Sunday to tell us" seems weird and so unimportant that I want to scream at the TV and tell them all to just shut up. Now, if Cheney had gone on some sort of shooting spree (besides the one we already got going on) now that would be news. But accidentally spraying some old lawyer with bird shot? Sure it's worth a mention, but the press is acting like there is some plot to keep it all secret, and screaming 'let us know', 'you knew that yesterday?' and 'why haven't you told us more!' Normally I like it when the press digs into the administration, but come on people, this is just ridiculous. You're reaching, and reaching at nothing. You are manufacturing drama and no one cares. You look ridiculous.

On yet another unrelated note...

Last Wednesday was my first experience with a new knitting group. The group I had previously dwindled to just 2, and my partner in knitting, I fear, is in need of more creative and crafty interaction. So we discover this other group on the internet and we show up in all our awkward and self conscious glory.

It was ok. There was definitely a lot of knitting going on. In the other group (um, pairing) there was a lot of wine drinking going on, mostly by me. New place? No wine, just coffee and pastries. But at least it has better lighting.

Most of the ladies were perfectly nice, though a touch snobbish about the knitting, and the yarn, and god, the fiber...oh, have you seen the fiber! (fiber is a fancy word for hair that grows out of an animals skin and often covered in shit). But there were a few girls there I'm hoping to talk to more tonight. One of them, when I told her my partner and I used to meet at a bar to knit, got a far off look and then turned to me and said "That is a fantastic idea." I liked her immediately.

Other girl, I will call her Glasses, I liked not so much.

The Scene: Quiet Girl is knitting some sort of sweater. She is holding her needles in her hands and looking down at the pattern she is following. Glasses is sitting next to her.

Glasses: I made a sweater just like that, but I didn’t use a pattern.

Quiet Girl: Oh. Well, I guess if I had made one like this before, it wouldn’t be that hard without a pattern.

Glasses: I didn’t say it was easy. It wasn’t easy.

Nacho: Well aren’t you just the Master of the Knitting fucking Universe.

Ok, I didn’t say that.

On the walk back from knitting we had a good dish on the ladies. Mostly bad because I am a horrible person, and it makes me feel better about myself when I make fun of others. I'm sure they all had choice bits to say about me too. But tonight I will win them over. Yes I will. Because the only thing worse than my habit of making fun of other people, is my need to have people like me. It's all very complicated. I am an enigma, even to myself.

I just realized this is my 100th post!

The water is clear, but distinctly amber in color. Up river, the tannins seep out of trees and travel south until they spill into the inlet, causing the currents to take on a golden hue. As the water laps the shore it looks as though the bay is filled with whiskey.

If you head west to The Emerald Coast, the beaches are wide and white; the water crystal clear. Where we are is known as The Forgotten Coast, not quite as appealing. The population is sparse and the few houses seem tired and run down. That is except for the new vacation homes. The developers are here and they are building. . .a lot. Hoping to package the good fishing and leisure boating with luxury homes and warm winters, the contractors are busy. It won't be long until the Coast is discovered by Baby Boomer retirees.

This is something my father is banking on, and he's probably right. Well, let's hope so since he's betting all the dough he and my mother have managed to scrape together on it. I am surprised to learn that they actually have FOUR properties, not just one. In the words of a popular commercial, they are in debt to their eyeballs.

Due to the remote nature of area, and the fact that it is still a work in progress, one is hard pressed when it comes to meals. There are a few Diners, offering standard greasy spoon fare. Saturday morning a breakfast of hashbrowns and eggs is served by a lovely lady named Mabelline, who calls me 'Sugar.'

There used to be a waterfront restaurant just down the road from my parents' home site, but it has fallen victim to the hurricanes. Not sure if it was Katrina or one of the others, but the poor building looks beaten and weary as it slumps sideways on its stilts. Though having a restaurant on a peir has appeal for waterfront dining, its jetting structure also extends beyond the county border, a well thought out technicality that allowed the proprietors to offer sinful spirits and ale. That law is now off the books, so there are a couple more ramshackle watering holes, but for a long time the elevated restaurant was the only show in town. As a result, it is a treasure to the community, and the locals are helping to get the place rebuilt. My Dad says it was nice, and hopes to see it resurrected as well.

So with our tastes leaning away from the drop ceilings and vinyl chairs of the mornings meal, my father suggests a restaurant he went to on one of his previous visits. He has 'an idea' of its location. Since he was the passenger, not the driver, he isn't really sure. Convinced that if we just start driving, he'll remember the way, we head out. Since he is apparently the Donald Trump of Ochlockonee Bay, I figure my father has seen enough of the area to know his way around, and put my trust in him as we depart into the swampy wild.

More later...

Blah

I wish I was more inspired to share about my trip. I am back. FINALLY. Lord.

Unfortunately, since the last 17 hours of it was spent either in an airport or airplane, the interesting 'trip' part is a mere dream...distant and vague.

And that 17 hours has me beat and tired.

And then this morning I look at my calendar at work and realized I missed it.

The Blacksburg episode of Extreme Home Makeover.

Boo.

Quote of the Week: #2

Since I will be on a plane Friday, I figured I'd get crackin' on my second installment of The Quote of the Week.

This week I wanted to branch out a little, so I spent some time clicking that "next blog" button to see if there is any random goodness out there. I have learned the following from this experiment:


There are a TON of Malaysian bloggers out there. And not just in Malaysia. I found Malaysians living in New Zealand, India, United States, ect. But they all identify themselves as Malaysian. I do not know if their presence in the Blogosphere is a result of a cultural inclination to blog, or simply due to a large population...if it is just sheer numbers, I have concluded that the Malaysians will soon be taking over the world.

A lot of people blog about their mail. Because it's something different everyday. Today I got 4 credit card offers! Wha? And most of them don't go on to make any interesting points or funny quips about their mail. They just state it matter o' factly. Like it's news. I guess it's better than blogging about the weather (I blog about the weather...a lot. Perhaps I will cut back on that a little)

A lot of people blog about the weather.

People are sad, lonely and boring. *sigh*

People from Japan really like animae. Some cartoon girl with big boobs and wispy hair dominates the top of every page. And the backgrounds are all shadowy and swirly in pink and grey and black. It slows down my browser and makes me mad. And how the fuck do you get past all this crap and find the actual BLOG?

Lots of boobies!

I was surprised to find it spit out a few good reads. Unfortuantely, it seemed that every time I found myself chuckling or earmarking sentences for possible Quotes of the Week, I'd look at the comments, and there would be 112! Example Kill the Goat. She was being so funny with the polaroid dog! Too bad 68 other people already agreed. I am dedicated to undiscovered wit, and had to move on.

So before I'd start reading, I decided I would look at the comments, and if it was under 10, I'd take a look.

Unfortunately, there is a reason no one reads these blogs.

But here's what I found. Diamonds in an expansive rough.

QUOTE OF THE WEEK

It tasted like socks that had been used to wipe a skunk's butt.
www.skitteringthoughts.blogspot.com

HONORABLE MENTION

However I was quite flattered by an attractive blonde, whose name I can remember but have opted not to disclose in case her friends end up teasing her about her frankly questionable judgement, who told a mutual friend (who later told me)... that she thought I was cute.
www.thenervecenter.blogspot.com

Dog Duty

I don't know if Nature, in response to my observations, has decided to kick it into high gear or what. As if saying, You want winter? Here’s some winter for you! Or Perhaps the Groundhog's aversion to shadow magically causes the jet stream to shift into an appropriate February pattern.

Regardless, Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Good news! Now Florida will seem that much more sunny and warm. Though I have been warned that the particular section of Florida I will be visiting is not all that sunny, and not so much warm as it is 'not as cold.' It's Northern Florida, which makes it more susceptible to seasons. So it will be 65 or so. Still better than 25.

We narrowly averted an issue with the dog. When my Dad asked if I wanted to come to not sunny and only slightly warmer Florida, I checked with J. Everything seemed good. It's a plan, have fun. However, something got messed up, because J actually has a business trip this weekend...and it's only, THE MOST IMPORTANT ONE he takes every year, and therefore has been on the books since , oh forever. Some how during the "Yay, I get to go to Florida!" emails, this never came up.

Result? There is 36 hours of Tdog unattended - without food or watering or peeing in appropriate areas. Luckily J has a friend who said he'll do it last minute. Thank god, because our list of people who fall under the heading of 'worthy of T responsibility' is very short. Only two people so far. Well, 4 if you count J's folks, but they are conditional on whether they will be going to Vermont, where dog hair and slobber are welcome with open arms. Of course we know more than two people, but some are, well, let us just say, not the most responsible people. And my nerves do not allow anyone but the top of the list to serve the Tdog, lest I have paranoid visions of his carcass being dragged under the FedEx truck.

Perhaps when I return I will have some pretty pictures for you. I plan to bring my camera. My mother has commissioned me with a painting for the new house, so I need some reference shots in order to make them all Florida-y and fit in with the decor of seashells and seagulls and starfish and all that is tacky and beachy. Oh and in the teal and pink color scheme. And, can you say sandollars? ugh.

But I will be happy to have a project. One that will keep me busy while I'm not knitting the sweater I started 6 months ago, and not doing my taxes. Yay.

Something Wintery This Way Comes?

This coming weekend I will be traveling to Florida to meet up with my Dad! Aside from the excitement of seeing my Dad and sister, I would relish the thought of departing the cold and snowy New England winter, to the relatively warm and sunny Florida winter! But, due to the bizarre meteorological patterns of late, it will not be the temperature upgrade I would expect. And I must admit, it's kind of a disappointment. The glory is in the contrast, and going from 45 degrees to 60 is nothing to get giddy about.

It is notably warm here. There is no snow on the ground, which for February, is mind boggling. There is a lot of chatter about Global Warming and El Nino (or that other one, the opposite one...the female one?), but no one really has a solid explanation of what's going on.

At least not one I can muster the attention span to comprehend.

The most popular explanation is that there is a lack of Artic air coming down from the north. Well, duh. But why not? I have no clue. Sure, jet streams and ocean currents are in play. Perhaps something to do with...um, pressure and dew points?

I don't pay attention to the weather people when they start getting all technical. Hey, this isn't 8th grade Earth Science, stop trying to trick me into learning something! I roll my eyes as they try to establish that they are actual scientists, and not just spokes-models for clouds. Just tell me whether wet stuff will be falling from the sky, and on to my head, ok?

So my intolerance for well informed weather people has left me at a loss to what nature is doing. What I do know, is that the birds are confused, as are the crocuses. Little green shoots and small buds are beginning to pop. Don't they know it's only February? Surely Mother Nature has a cruel joke in the works.

And the groundhog has agreed. Now that's a forecast I can understand.

Introducing The Quote of the Week!

This is the first installment of what I hope will become a weekly feature. Of course, depending on whether I find this an interesting venture next week. And who's to say whether that will happen. But for now, here it is.

Having just decided to do this yesterday, I didn't get a chance to really get out and read a lot, or at least make notes on who tickled my fancy. I'm sure I read a lot of good stuff earlier in the week, but who was to know?

Therefore, my talent search was limited to this morning. So pretty much you guys over there on my blog roll. At least, the unfamous ones. I'm going to be concentrating on low traffic blogs (people who average under 10 comments a post). Sorry Finslippy, I'm sure you're quotable, but there is far more under appreciated wit out there.

Soooooooooo, without further ado, I give you...

THE QUOTE OF THE WEEK

Noticably, the Bush girls were absent. "State of the whatevers are like, sooo boring." (Shotguns beer.)
Maintain the Sexy

Honorable mention:

I'm sorry, Uruguay, you're on your own. I'm completely ignorant of you. Except for what I saw of you on The Amazing Race, which was some nice beaches, and a small-statured person shouldering a side of beef. I'm sorry.
Girlbomb

(I struggled between the two, so I made an honorable mention category. Don't know whether that will continue or not.)

Don't forget to support the lucky winners with a visit to their blog.

Have a great weekend!

Why having a kid would be cool

So I would have someone to sit on my lap while I watch Pancake Mountain.

Makes me a little homesick since it's based out of DC...maybe they need someone to answer the phone?

Postscript: hmm...my nephew is visiting in March. Perhaps I can score some cool Auntie points and get the DVDs! But they stay here with me...um, for safe keeping.

Changing the world...one blog at a time

I've decided my lapse in common sense and awareness is the President's fault. After all, I am normally sharp and quick with the Googleing. Obviously his vague and abstract ramblings left my poor thinker in a tailspin of confusion. I've even lost my desire to read, and paint, and take photographs...even knit.

But strangely, I find myself compelled to build a robot army, to be used to instruct American Youth on the importance of nanotechnology. So they can build a little robot army. Because we must bring freedom and eliminate evil from the microscopic world! (It is important to note that the existence of a microscopic world is in no way related to evolution. The little stuff has always been little. And if it evolved into something big, then it wouldn’t be little anymore now would it?)

Admittedly, the Presidents lack of emphasis in, or aknowledgment of, the Arts and the Humanities, has left me feeling like I should do something. Something big, something important.

Like mess with the blog template a little! Hope you like it? Better, I think.

I still am confused with most of CSS, HTML, or whatever it is that makes the lines and dashes and moments of keyboard pounding frustration. But fooling with colors is easy enough. It's kinda creamy now. I also put a little maroon in there for the Hokies. I don't like my font either, but that's a little more advanced, and since I don't want what little brain I have left to ooze out of my ears and on to the floor, I will tackle that another day. Perhaps after I haven’t heard the President speak for oh, let's say a month. That will surely have my neurons rejuvenated and rested.

Crazy? No. Moron? Yes

It turns out these "State of the Union" things happen every year. Who knew? So basically, all my google searches turned out the speech from last year. Those links in my previous post go to the transcript from 2005. And it's 2006, or so I've now been told.

All you people missed out on the opportunity to point out what an idiot I am. I beat you to the punch.

I'm not sure which is worse. The fact that I wasn't able to tell the difference, or the fact that I wasn't able to tell the difference. I mean, I watched that speech last night,some bells should have gone off. But more disturbing, reading last years speech, it didn't seem all that different. Basically the same shit.

By the way, yes he did talk about math and science. It's the American Competitiveness Initiative I was looking for. Great. Still not sure what it's supposed to do, but at least it means my brain is not slowly rotting and making it's own stuff up.

Oh, and the girls. Yep,

In recent years, you and I have taken unprecedented action to fight AIDS and malaria, expand the education of girls, and reward developing nations that are moving forward with economic and political reform

Yay! For my brain, and girls.

State of My Brain

I think I’m going crazy.

Thinking about the speech last night, I realize there's a lot of fuzziness and uncertainty about some of the stuff George said. I am not great with verbally transmitted information. I need pictures and charts, and if those are not available, I'll take the written word. So this morning I google the sucker up. First I click on CNNs transcript. I scan the speech trying to hone in on the particular section I am curious about. But I can't find it. Hmmph. So I do a little search for the word 'education', but it only shows up once in the whole transcript, and it's not the part I'm looking for. Wha?

So I go to the Washington Post's ‘complete transcript’. And I read and search and I can’t find it! Thinking perhaps there is something wrong with my browser and the search command, I copy and paste the whole thing into Word and then Control+F the thing to find what I'm looking for. But it's not there.

Ok. Am I nuts, or did Mr. Bush go on a while about education and science and math...and I even remember him coming up with some nifty new name for some initiative, but none of it's there in the transcript. Or am I a moron and I'm completely missing something? Does transcript not mean what I think it means? I mean, at The Post it says ‘complete transcript.’ They even have the applause in there.

Did I have some sort of acid flashback and imagine him saying things he didn't actually say? Or maybe I had one of those weird dreams that your brain accidentally files in the reality section, so I'm walking around with a version of the State of the Union no more real than an episode of Dawsons Creek.

Also, I distinctly recall him saying something about 'girls' learning something. As a girl, I should know what the hell he said. But it's not there.

Is this the first sign of early onset Alzheimers? Do I not understand how to search for a word in a document? Will I have to actually read the WHOLE thing to be sure? God, let’s hope not.

Noone I work with watched it, so I need you guys to tell me I'm not crazy, or perhaps confirm that I am. Math and Science, he talked about that, yes?