Da Bomb
By sheer chance, I happened upon the Peoria Emergency Response Expo this evening. The highlight of this was getting to check out the bomb squad robot and spend some time asking a bunch of questions about the bomb squad program, uses for the robot, the cost of such a rig ($200,000 including training and spare parts), and the average number of times the bomb squad is dispatched each year (about 30 - not well publicised). This was by far the coolest thing I did today. And now, when we have a jar of picric acid that's become dried out and unstable, I can call up the Peoria PD and ask for an officer by name. "Hi, remember me? The one with 30 questions? About that robot...we're gonna need it."
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Back from Life
I had been typing this long and glorious post about my time in Kentucky and my newfound love of Coheed and Cambria and the Mars Volta. I mentioned my joy in being able to visit with sisters at the loveliest of formals and how buying that dress may have been the best thing I've done for myself all year. There was talk about feeling more alive than ever when feeling cool night area across my naked back and arms and wet sand between my toes. I do believe I spent a sizeable amount of time proclaiming my love for my friends. There was at least a paragraph on the sorrowful beauty that is "The Widow" by the Mars Volta and how this song resonates because it captures that feeling of being haunted.
But all of that was wiped when Firefox was closed.
I had been typing this long and glorious post about my time in Kentucky and my newfound love of Coheed and Cambria and the Mars Volta. I mentioned my joy in being able to visit with sisters at the loveliest of formals and how buying that dress may have been the best thing I've done for myself all year. There was talk about feeling more alive than ever when feeling cool night area across my naked back and arms and wet sand between my toes. I do believe I spent a sizeable amount of time proclaiming my love for my friends. There was at least a paragraph on the sorrowful beauty that is "The Widow" by the Mars Volta and how this song resonates because it captures that feeling of being haunted.
But all of that was wiped when Firefox was closed.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Top 5 Questions of the Day
1. What exactly does it mean when someone has listed "Random Play" in the Looking For: section on a facebook profile?
2. How kind I stop slicing when I drive a golf ball?
3. Why are people concerned with me understanding the source of their scarcity? And why am I up past midnight overanalyzing this? (That doesn't count as a fourth question, btw)
4. What kind of rod and reel should I get and where in my house shall I store it?
5. In which grocery store can I obtain pretzel bread so that I can make my own pretzel sandwiches at home? (Bonus question - what shall I pack for tomorrow's lunch?)
1. What exactly does it mean when someone has listed "Random Play" in the Looking For: section on a facebook profile?
2. How kind I stop slicing when I drive a golf ball?
3. Why are people concerned with me understanding the source of their scarcity? And why am I up past midnight overanalyzing this? (That doesn't count as a fourth question, btw)
4. What kind of rod and reel should I get and where in my house shall I store it?
5. In which grocery store can I obtain pretzel bread so that I can make my own pretzel sandwiches at home? (Bonus question - what shall I pack for tomorrow's lunch?)
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Pretty Much a Perfect Tuesday Evening
I left work around 5 this evening and hurried home to retrieve the UPS tag from the door so that I could arrange to run down to East Peoria and pick up my dress for formal. The dress...it's gorgeous. From there it was off to the indoor mall to pick up some "royal jelly" cream from Bath and Bodyworks. I'm a sucker for all things honey and have been infatuated with the new Savannah Beeswax line. After some mall crawling, I stopped by DiDough's Twisted Pretzels where I "rushed" the girls working there and got to try every flavor of slushy while waiting on the most awesome sammich ever: turkey and cheddar cheese between two pieces of pretzel bread garnished with lettuce, tomato, and "beer mustard." So, so good. Top it off with an ice cold hand shaken lemonade and a rerun of America's Next Top Model and a new Veronica Mars and that's what I call a great Tuesday.
I left work around 5 this evening and hurried home to retrieve the UPS tag from the door so that I could arrange to run down to East Peoria and pick up my dress for formal. The dress...it's gorgeous. From there it was off to the indoor mall to pick up some "royal jelly" cream from Bath and Bodyworks. I'm a sucker for all things honey and have been infatuated with the new Savannah Beeswax line. After some mall crawling, I stopped by DiDough's Twisted Pretzels where I "rushed" the girls working there and got to try every flavor of slushy while waiting on the most awesome sammich ever: turkey and cheddar cheese between two pieces of pretzel bread garnished with lettuce, tomato, and "beer mustard." So, so good. Top it off with an ice cold hand shaken lemonade and a rerun of America's Next Top Model and a new Veronica Mars and that's what I call a great Tuesday.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
That Wasn't So Bad, Was It
I've survived yet another weekend in downstate tiny.lake.town. I didn't run into anyone I used to know. However, I did make an appearance in one of the local newspapers. If you take a picture of yourself with a copy of the Breese Journal in some exotic location, they'll put it in the paper. It would be perversely funny to take pictures of myself with this small town rag and just periodically send them in. Look at me! I ventured outside of Clinton County and lived to tell about it? Where's my cookie? Where's Waldo? Waldo's at the Sear Tower...
On Friday, I went to the AB Brewery with my parents to take the tour. All these years living around St. Louis and never going to the brewery. I can't believe it took so long because the brewery tour was awesome. It has everything I love: pressure vessels, fermentation, generous complimentary beer samples and pretzel packets. Unfortunately, on my 2nd Budweiser Select, I became that person when the cup slid through my hands and onto the carpet. People are becoming less surprised when I drop stuff and make a scene. I can't even make it through 8 oz of beer before I'm making a scene these days. Learning all about the brewery process gave me a greater appreciation for beer and has piqued my interest in wanting to try out a little home brewing. I feel like I've just made a pilgrimage to someplace holy.
After touring the brewery, we went to the Science Center to check out the Titanic exhibit. Impeccible timing, it was, as we were there on the 95th anniversary of the ship striking the iceberg. It was odd to lay eyes on items that had been at the bottom of the ocean for nearly a century. The exhibit had corridors that were designed to replicate passageways and rooms from the ship as well as a put visitors in the middle of the grand staircase. After seeing this, not only do I have a greater appreciation to the magnitude and impact of the tragedy, but I can also better appreciate the attention to detail that went into the making of the 1997 Titanic movie. Upon entering the exhibit, we received boarding passes to the ship that had names and brief stories about the people on the ship. At the conclusion, we could reference the names on our boarding passes to the list of those lost and saved at sea. The name on my card was a 2nd class survivor. After I saw this, I took a seat on a bench and looked up and saw a quote on the exit wall that read "We are all passengers on the Titanic." An odd sense of relief washed over me.
I've survived yet another weekend in downstate tiny.lake.town. I didn't run into anyone I used to know. However, I did make an appearance in one of the local newspapers. If you take a picture of yourself with a copy of the Breese Journal in some exotic location, they'll put it in the paper. It would be perversely funny to take pictures of myself with this small town rag and just periodically send them in. Look at me! I ventured outside of Clinton County and lived to tell about it? Where's my cookie? Where's Waldo? Waldo's at the Sear Tower...
On Friday, I went to the AB Brewery with my parents to take the tour. All these years living around St. Louis and never going to the brewery. I can't believe it took so long because the brewery tour was awesome. It has everything I love: pressure vessels, fermentation, generous complimentary beer samples and pretzel packets. Unfortunately, on my 2nd Budweiser Select, I became that person when the cup slid through my hands and onto the carpet. People are becoming less surprised when I drop stuff and make a scene. I can't even make it through 8 oz of beer before I'm making a scene these days. Learning all about the brewery process gave me a greater appreciation for beer and has piqued my interest in wanting to try out a little home brewing. I feel like I've just made a pilgrimage to someplace holy.
After touring the brewery, we went to the Science Center to check out the Titanic exhibit. Impeccible timing, it was, as we were there on the 95th anniversary of the ship striking the iceberg. It was odd to lay eyes on items that had been at the bottom of the ocean for nearly a century. The exhibit had corridors that were designed to replicate passageways and rooms from the ship as well as a put visitors in the middle of the grand staircase. After seeing this, not only do I have a greater appreciation to the magnitude and impact of the tragedy, but I can also better appreciate the attention to detail that went into the making of the 1997 Titanic movie. Upon entering the exhibit, we received boarding passes to the ship that had names and brief stories about the people on the ship. At the conclusion, we could reference the names on our boarding passes to the list of those lost and saved at sea. The name on my card was a 2nd class survivor. After I saw this, I took a seat on a bench and looked up and saw a quote on the exit wall that read "We are all passengers on the Titanic." An odd sense of relief washed over me.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Bark < Bite
On the way home from work this evening, I called my Dad to visit for a little while as my Dad is quite awesome and I'll just call him up to say hello. He told me that he couldn't talk long because he was at the emergency room.
(it went down sort of like this...)
"What happened?!?"
"I was bitten and I'm at the emergency room." (repeat from the statement that started it all)
"Who bit you?"
"Cliff's dog."
"Big dog?"
"Cliff's dog."
"What kind of dog?"
"...Pomeranian maltese mix. It's 12 years old. Cliff told me that I could stick my hand out so it could sniff me and the dog latched on to my hand."
"Did it get your left hand?" (he had surgery on his right hand a few months back)
"Yes."
"At least it didn't get the right hand. Now you have two bum hands?"
"I'm going to have to go in a minute. Paperwork."
He called back a few hours later and told me that the dog went after Cliff too. They both had their wounds cleaned out with alcohol, etc and were given tetanus shots. And then they went to Spaghetti Night at Angelos. Dad just chalks it up to another life experience. I chalk it up to yappy dogs being evil.
On the way home from work this evening, I called my Dad to visit for a little while as my Dad is quite awesome and I'll just call him up to say hello. He told me that he couldn't talk long because he was at the emergency room.
(it went down sort of like this...)
"What happened?!?"
"I was bitten and I'm at the emergency room." (repeat from the statement that started it all)
"Who bit you?"
"Cliff's dog."
"Big dog?"
"Cliff's dog."
"What kind of dog?"
"...Pomeranian maltese mix. It's 12 years old. Cliff told me that I could stick my hand out so it could sniff me and the dog latched on to my hand."
"Did it get your left hand?" (he had surgery on his right hand a few months back)
"Yes."
"At least it didn't get the right hand. Now you have two bum hands?"
"I'm going to have to go in a minute. Paperwork."
He called back a few hours later and told me that the dog went after Cliff too. They both had their wounds cleaned out with alcohol, etc and were given tetanus shots. And then they went to Spaghetti Night at Angelos. Dad just chalks it up to another life experience. I chalk it up to yappy dogs being evil.
Plugged In
Sometime in the months that passed since the night I rushed my ailing laptop to Best Buy for repair, the laptop was recalled and I grew as a person by virtue of simply not having a computer so accessible.
I was without home computer from February 20 - April 11. In that time, I took up a new hobby, started feeling better about life with each passing day, and lost 6 lbs. I was forced to be more creative with passing time and learned to just stop waiting for life. I also gained a greater appreciation for buying an unlimited text messaging package as in that computer-less time, I've sent and received roughly 300 text messages. So now that the computer is back and the weather is warmer and it's lighter longer and all of this wonderful stuff, how am I spending my free time? Well, I'm blogging right now and earlier I was putting information thought to be lost back on my new computer (which is like my old one, but faster and cooler - it has a tv tuner and fingerprint data protection). Tomorrow I'm driving down to St. Louis for Easter. If it weren't for my folks wanting to see my replacement rig, I'd leave it up here as I'm growing accustomed to a life without zombification via computer screen.
Here is the portion of this entry where I could be complaining about how long it took to get a replacement computer, but instead, I'll say this about my experience at Best Buy yesterday afternoon: I tried to have eye sex with a floppy haired, bespectacled boy wearing a hoodie and a tshirt with some witty saying on it and then I contemplated getting some Stereophonics cds. After that, I made arrangements to pick up my laptop after the data transfer had been completed and then went good will store hunting and grabbed a bite to eat before returning a few hours later to triumphantly claim my new sweet computer. And that was pretty much it.
Sometime in the months that passed since the night I rushed my ailing laptop to Best Buy for repair, the laptop was recalled and I grew as a person by virtue of simply not having a computer so accessible.
I was without home computer from February 20 - April 11. In that time, I took up a new hobby, started feeling better about life with each passing day, and lost 6 lbs. I was forced to be more creative with passing time and learned to just stop waiting for life. I also gained a greater appreciation for buying an unlimited text messaging package as in that computer-less time, I've sent and received roughly 300 text messages. So now that the computer is back and the weather is warmer and it's lighter longer and all of this wonderful stuff, how am I spending my free time? Well, I'm blogging right now and earlier I was putting information thought to be lost back on my new computer (which is like my old one, but faster and cooler - it has a tv tuner and fingerprint data protection). Tomorrow I'm driving down to St. Louis for Easter. If it weren't for my folks wanting to see my replacement rig, I'd leave it up here as I'm growing accustomed to a life without zombification via computer screen.
Here is the portion of this entry where I could be complaining about how long it took to get a replacement computer, but instead, I'll say this about my experience at Best Buy yesterday afternoon: I tried to have eye sex with a floppy haired, bespectacled boy wearing a hoodie and a tshirt with some witty saying on it and then I contemplated getting some Stereophonics cds. After that, I made arrangements to pick up my laptop after the data transfer had been completed and then went good will store hunting and grabbed a bite to eat before returning a few hours later to triumphantly claim my new sweet computer. And that was pretty much it.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
All Hail the Open Road
This weekend I road tripped down to see the folks and participate in Trivia Night to raise money for the school. Our table won 3rd place, and we gave the prize money back to the school. The people that won 2nd and 1st, however, did not (boo!). Call me righteous, but I think that if you participate in a fundraising event and win, you should give the money back to the cause. Of course, the money went toward bettering my mother's school so you can see my bias on this issue, but I think regardless, I'd still feel the same.
Although it's only about a 90 mile drive, a lot can happen on the open road. This evening, I actually got to experience a "what if" situation I had once spent some time pondering...
So I'm driving up I-55 and I see something drop in front of the radio. I turned my head to get a better visual confirmation - something better than a glance out of the corner of my eye. And there it was... a brown spider! Oh no of nos, what do I do. It was still on the console, crawling over my badge, coins, and assortment of lip glosses (Cargo Kalamazoo, Nars Orgasm, American Beauty Watermelon Crush). I break out in a cold sweat, wondering what I do when it jumps over on me and brandishes its gigantor fangs. Traffic was a bit dense and quick moving, so I pushed the spider out of my mind for a few minutes as to get away from the lumber truck in front of me. And then I couldn't see the spider anymore. So I spent the rest of the trip back to Peoria periodically slapping myself in attempt to get the imaginary spider. A little while later, after arriving back at my abode, I saw a spider (same one? I don't know, they all look alike) and killed it. There - piece of mind.
This afternoon I also became reaquainted with the Reverend Horton Heat. Digging through the console, I came across my copy of Holy Roller, the 1999 compilation of songs on both record labels the band's been on. My favorite tracks include "Wiggle Stick," "Where the Hell Did You Go With My Toothbrush?," "One Time for Me," and a nifty cover of "Folsom Prison Blues." If you like good, dirty rock and roll, check out this cd. But listen to it with the car on cruise control, this is drive-fast-music.
This weekend I road tripped down to see the folks and participate in Trivia Night to raise money for the school. Our table won 3rd place, and we gave the prize money back to the school. The people that won 2nd and 1st, however, did not (boo!). Call me righteous, but I think that if you participate in a fundraising event and win, you should give the money back to the cause. Of course, the money went toward bettering my mother's school so you can see my bias on this issue, but I think regardless, I'd still feel the same.
Although it's only about a 90 mile drive, a lot can happen on the open road. This evening, I actually got to experience a "what if" situation I had once spent some time pondering...
So I'm driving up I-55 and I see something drop in front of the radio. I turned my head to get a better visual confirmation - something better than a glance out of the corner of my eye. And there it was... a brown spider! Oh no of nos, what do I do. It was still on the console, crawling over my badge, coins, and assortment of lip glosses (Cargo Kalamazoo, Nars Orgasm, American Beauty Watermelon Crush). I break out in a cold sweat, wondering what I do when it jumps over on me and brandishes its gigantor fangs. Traffic was a bit dense and quick moving, so I pushed the spider out of my mind for a few minutes as to get away from the lumber truck in front of me. And then I couldn't see the spider anymore. So I spent the rest of the trip back to Peoria periodically slapping myself in attempt to get the imaginary spider. A little while later, after arriving back at my abode, I saw a spider (same one? I don't know, they all look alike) and killed it. There - piece of mind.
This afternoon I also became reaquainted with the Reverend Horton Heat. Digging through the console, I came across my copy of Holy Roller, the 1999 compilation of songs on both record labels the band's been on. My favorite tracks include "Wiggle Stick," "Where the Hell Did You Go With My Toothbrush?," "One Time for Me," and a nifty cover of "Folsom Prison Blues." If you like good, dirty rock and roll, check out this cd. But listen to it with the car on cruise control, this is drive-fast-music.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Changing Tastes
In the movie "Runaway Bride," there is this running question of how Julia Robert's character likes her eggs...and the answer is always that she likes them the same way of the man she's engaged to. Ultimately it's revealed that the reason for this is because she doesn't really know who is she or what she's like. The way one likes (or dislikes) their eggs must be indicative of one's sense of self?
I think this is true for beers. A person has their beer. But then they meet someone else and start drinking the same beer of the SO. It could be constant drinking of this beer, social drinking of this beer. It's justified, saying things like "well, I've always liked this, but had forgotten about it," and "it was cheap beer on special." Would said beer even have been given the time of day if it hadn't been for the influence of the other person?
I will admit to having fallen victim to this form of mimicking...choking down several watery bottles of Coors Light. However, I just couldn't do it. It's not who I am. Or is it that I'm just resistant to being changed by relationships? But this can't be true as every relationship changes us. Regardless of it ending happily ever after or going down in a flaming spiral, once we decide to love someone, date someone, exist in someone's sphere of influence, we're forever changed. (This goes along with my asertment that love is indeed a true chemical reaction.) Our world is opened up to new and exciting beers. We broaden our horizons. We strengthen our resolve to only drink real beer.
So if all of the aforementioned is an indication of who we are, then analyze this: I like Budweiser. Not Bud Light. Budweiser. And I love a good Guiness. In a pint glass. And my eggs, nothing less than over easy.
In the movie "Runaway Bride," there is this running question of how Julia Robert's character likes her eggs...and the answer is always that she likes them the same way of the man she's engaged to. Ultimately it's revealed that the reason for this is because she doesn't really know who is she or what she's like. The way one likes (or dislikes) their eggs must be indicative of one's sense of self?
I think this is true for beers. A person has their beer. But then they meet someone else and start drinking the same beer of the SO. It could be constant drinking of this beer, social drinking of this beer. It's justified, saying things like "well, I've always liked this, but had forgotten about it," and "it was cheap beer on special." Would said beer even have been given the time of day if it hadn't been for the influence of the other person?
I will admit to having fallen victim to this form of mimicking...choking down several watery bottles of Coors Light. However, I just couldn't do it. It's not who I am. Or is it that I'm just resistant to being changed by relationships? But this can't be true as every relationship changes us. Regardless of it ending happily ever after or going down in a flaming spiral, once we decide to love someone, date someone, exist in someone's sphere of influence, we're forever changed. (This goes along with my asertment that love is indeed a true chemical reaction.) Our world is opened up to new and exciting beers. We broaden our horizons. We strengthen our resolve to only drink real beer.
So if all of the aforementioned is an indication of who we are, then analyze this: I like Budweiser. Not Bud Light. Budweiser. And I love a good Guiness. In a pint glass. And my eggs, nothing less than over easy.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Wide-Eyed is All I Can Do
I caught a glimpse of myself in a plateglass window and realized that when I'm "into" someone, all I can really do is look at them all wide-eyed. It's a combination of the facial expressions I do when shopping at Sephora, ordering cheesecake, buying shoes, looking at tools at Sears, and anticipating really good news...and have just been given a keg of really good beer.
There are all of these words in the English language that are used to describe a person trolling for booty. Lusty. Randy. Horny. Aroused. But why is it so hard to sum up in a single word what a person is feeling when they've got it for someone. I'm talking the kind of got it when someone realizes that their entire existence would be made by being able to walk up to him and put the head under his chin. The kind when talking to him makes you realize that all the tears shed over the unworthy were pointless because there are much better men out there. It's the kind of feeling when you really want to get to know a person and let everything else that comes along with it just fall into place.
But my big issue is now knowing what to do other than being wide-eyed. It's so easy to aggressively seek things - promotions, positions of power, etc, but how does one aggressively seek matters of the heart? The biggest problem with free will is that you can't *make* others want to reciprocate feeling. I'm scared of coming on too strong but at the same time I know that I have to put myself out there and send signals...it's a fine line to walk. The more I think about it, this person has pretty much everything I think is awesome in another human being. And if it works, that's awesome because I'm pretty sure this boy would be one of the greats. And we all know how I adore the greats. But until I figure out just what to do, I'll continue to look at him like he's a rack of Craftsmen tools at Sears.*
*Though on direction of Allison, my very own personal Hitch, I'm to be girlie around this boy, so I'll look at him like a display of Nars lipstick at Sephora.
I caught a glimpse of myself in a plateglass window and realized that when I'm "into" someone, all I can really do is look at them all wide-eyed. It's a combination of the facial expressions I do when shopping at Sephora, ordering cheesecake, buying shoes, looking at tools at Sears, and anticipating really good news...and have just been given a keg of really good beer.
There are all of these words in the English language that are used to describe a person trolling for booty. Lusty. Randy. Horny. Aroused. But why is it so hard to sum up in a single word what a person is feeling when they've got it for someone. I'm talking the kind of got it when someone realizes that their entire existence would be made by being able to walk up to him and put the head under his chin. The kind when talking to him makes you realize that all the tears shed over the unworthy were pointless because there are much better men out there. It's the kind of feeling when you really want to get to know a person and let everything else that comes along with it just fall into place.
But my big issue is now knowing what to do other than being wide-eyed. It's so easy to aggressively seek things - promotions, positions of power, etc, but how does one aggressively seek matters of the heart? The biggest problem with free will is that you can't *make* others want to reciprocate feeling. I'm scared of coming on too strong but at the same time I know that I have to put myself out there and send signals...it's a fine line to walk. The more I think about it, this person has pretty much everything I think is awesome in another human being. And if it works, that's awesome because I'm pretty sure this boy would be one of the greats. And we all know how I adore the greats. But until I figure out just what to do, I'll continue to look at him like he's a rack of Craftsmen tools at Sears.*
*Though on direction of Allison, my very own personal Hitch, I'm to be girlie around this boy, so I'll look at him like a display of Nars lipstick at Sephora.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
