This past weekend, I traveled to Atlanta for a class on all the legal traps of my type of work. It lasted all day Friday and half of the day on Saturday, which gave the instructor just enough time to scare most of us shitless. It wasn't so much "How to not get sued" as it was "How to survive being raped by the justice system." I learned a lot, though, and the instructor did a great job of keeping our interest with all kinds of funny stories and interesting case studies. The only real downside of the class (besides working on Saturday, obviously) was Officer Farva yaking in my ear the whole damn time. Seriously, this guy looked like Farva, acted like Farva, and talked just like him too. I couldn't decide whether I wanted to stab him in the face or offer him a liter of cola.
Saturday evening, after Todd's family rescued me, we went to see Spamalot at the Fox Theatre. And holy crap, people, if you thought The Holy Grail was funny, you'll probably pee yourself watching the play. All the dull dragging bits of the movie have been replaced with new and hilarious shenanigans (cheeky and fun, not cruel and tragic). I was also really impressed with how they managed to translate various elements of the movie onto the stage (the animations, the Black Knight, the Killer Rabbit, etc.) It was a great show and if you have the opportunity to go see it, TAKE IT.
French Soldier 1: "Ooooh! Qu'est-ce que c'est?"
French Soldier 2: "What?"
French Soldier 1: "C'est un lapin!"
French Soldier 2: "What?"
French Soldier 1: "Eet ees a rabeet!"
French Soldier 2: "Oh!"
I finished the book I was reading while waiting in the doctor's office today. For some reason they were running nearly an hour behind, and I hadn't prepared for that possibility. Left with nothing to occupy me, my attention kept wandering, totally against my will, to the TV in the corner. And around here, there is only one channel to which a public TV will be turned: Fox News.
Of course, one of the top stories was the bomb that blew up at the Afghan base where
Darth Dick Cheney was strangling a minion with his mind visiting. But what caught my eye was the terminology that Fox News strictly adhered to throughout the piece: Homicide bomber
Uhm, I know this is Fox News and all, but isn't that a bit redundant even for them? I mean, one doesn't usually bomb others with the intent to make them feel better. Bombs are typically applied in situations where one wants a person or persons to be dead. Immediately. I'm pretty sure that the term "homicide bomber" applies to, oh, just about every single bomber that is and ever was. The bomb-er usually doesn't have the best interests of the bomb-ee at heart, is what I'm sayin'.
Fox News, honey, the "suicide" in "suicide bomber" is a description of the method of delivery. It's not a description of intent. Which should be fairly obvious because, again, there's a reason Hallmark doesn't make a BOMB. You asshats.
Against our better judgment, Todd and I spent the weekend helping the ASCE. It's not that we really wanted to, you understand. It's just that they asked. And, well, we just happen to be very damn good at building concrete canoes. I'd prefer that our talents lie more in the direction of "making gobs of money" but alas, floating rocks it is. For the most part, we enjoy the work (although I'd enjoy spending gobs of money more).
Still, sometimes helping students can a bit...frustrating. It's not that they're stupid (well, some of them are, but the ones we work with are actually quite intelligent). It's just that they're tired, out of their field, and they sometimes make silly mistakes that cost you a whole two days worth of work. And in the exasperation that follows, sometimes some funny shit gets said.
"But you know, there's a limit to how much you can help. At some point they just have to don their helmets and work it out themselves."
...Which I guess is funny only if you are the cold-hearted, insensitive sort that finds telling people they need to wear a helmet in public HILARIOUS.
Dude, all I can say is, if it were my plane stuck on the runway for 9 hours, they'd have had to shove my ass in an overhead bin around hour four, because I would have absolutely lost my f**king mind. The two hours we sat on the runway at LaGuardia had me ready to chew my way out through a wall. Multiply that by four and a half and seriously, you would have to sedate me to keep me on that plane. Oh, those poor people.
Tuesday morning I took Lilo-the-Cat back to the vet. She's been loosing weight, wheezing, vomiting, and generally acting terribly sick for several weeks now. She was also very overdue for her shots (I swear we got them, the vet swears we didn't). After nearly an hour of torture the vet decided that Lilo has feline asthma. Honestly, I didn't even know cats could get asthma. I thought it was just the hairball from hell. As she was telling me all about the risks and symptoms, I was having horrific visions of holding down a hacking, clawing cat with one hand while frantically working a kitty-sized inhaler with the other. Fortunately, treatment comes in the form of twice-per-month steroid shots. So not only will Lilo soon be better, she's also going to be able to totally kick Nala's ass. And she'll be great at baseball.
It's been a long day at work. I'm not really feeling my best and so haven't been motivated to do much that's useful. Now I'm just counting down until 5:00.
So yesterday was Todd's surgery.
The Good News: They didn't amputate (ha ha) and Todd's doing fine. Also, his rotator cuff isn't torn.
The Bad News: They weren't able to fix much and he'll have to go back for another surgery.
When his 45-minute surgery crept over into hour two, his mom and I were both fairly sure something was not going according to plan. Eventually they called us back for consultation to give us the bad news. Apparently, with the sheer number of times Todd's shoulder has been out of the socket, he's pretty much shredded the labrum into oblivion. The doc said it was like trying to set stitches in wet tissue paper. They were able to mitigate some of the bone damage to the socket itself, but they couldn't fix the labrum arthroscopically. So, in 6 to 8 weeks, he'll be heading back in for a nice, old fashioned open shoulder surgery.
Naturally, Todd's a little down at the thought of adding 8 weeks to his already interminable six-month separation from his true love, hockey. Not to mention that he won't be riding his bike during most of that time. Also, his plans for running his marathon have been delayed. But the good news is that since they weren't able to fix the labrum, he's not stuck in an immobilizer. He's free to move his arm, limited only by pain.
Needless to say, this is not the outcome we wanted from this ordeal. But he's already feeling better and they'll fix it on the next round. A big Thank You to all those who called and those of you who were thinking about him yesterday.
Oh, and Happy Valentine's Day! I love you all!
...Well, except maybe for you. But the rest of you, love.
Okay, all singing members of the Cucurbitaceae family aside, seriously, where the hell is my hairbrush? I've lost two in the last three days. One was over five years old, the other nearly two, and suddenly, poof they're both gone. One I think I might have left at my parents house, but the other was in the passenger seat of my car as recently as 7:00 last night. It must have somehow fallen out, although I have no idea how that could have happened.
Of course this morning I didn't realize that I was totally out of brushes until my hair was already halfway dry. So today, even more than usual, I look like I have a bird nest sitting on top of my head (albeit a bird nest with a pretty clip in it). Curly-ish damp hair + one pitiful comb = DESPAIR.
Last night I forced myself to attend Pilates, even though all I wanted to do was go home and sleep. I felt pretty good about my decision until I walked in to see The Pilates Nazi instead of my usual teacher. By then it was too late to skip, so I gamely suffered through her hellish idea of a class, but today, oh today I wish I hadn't. My hips, my abs, my shoulders, all of me hurts. And, god help me, tonight I have ballet.
For those of you interested in such things but a bit out of the loop, Todd is having his shoulder surgery next Tuesday (Feb. 13th). His mom will be coming up to Huntsville to help him the next few days while I'm at work, so I won't have to worry about coming home to find him mowing the lawn or building a shed or whatever. We may also need to put a shock collar on him, or else we'll wake up Friday and find that he's off to play hockey. Ah, I kid, but he really will be getting a bit stir crazy, so it's good that his mom will be there to help him get out of the house.
DISCLAIMER: In this instance, I am talking out of my ass regarding a topic about which I know very little. This is just how I feel whenever I hear the words "UAH" and "football" linked in a sentence. I have no idea what the school is really planning or doing, no data, no basis in fact. I just saw someone's post about it and thought, "Why did I just throw up in my mouth a little? Let's analyze this."
So here it is. To me, UAH Football is a singularly unappealing prospect.
It's not because I have something against football (although, well, I do). It's just that UAH is already growing up too fast for my taste. I know it's change or go under, but I'm afraid that in the search for more money, they've already lowered the bar on little things like admission requirements and academic excellence. I don't like growing at the expense of academic quality. And really, what do they hope to attract with a football program but more people? The questions is, do you want the person who bases a college choice on, say, the quality of the lab facilities, or the person who decides based on whether or not there's a football program?
And I know, assuming UAH could even get a football program up and running, it would be years and years and years before it developed into something even as big as UNA’s. But it's a culture thing. UAH is an engineering school. The "MIT of the South" as they say. And nerds don't play football, all right? Nerds don't even really watch football. And I like the UAH nerd/redneck ratio just as it is, thanks.
Also, I just can't get over the feeling that UAH is a better school because they aren't so focused on sports.
"But blah blah blah sports are good for colleges!"
"Blah blah blah colleges can excel at both academics AND sports!"
Fine, whatever. But my opinion is that having a football program would dramatically alter UAH's culture. And that would, from my decidedly change-resistant perspective, be a Bad Thing.
But hey, maybe I could be convinced otherwise.
Yesterday morning I woke up to snow.
We got over an inch of snow where I live, but by the time I woke up at 6:00, the rain had been coming down for a few hours and the snow had already half melted. Still, there was enough to make it look pretty. If it hadn't been for the rain, I'd have been in the backyard making snow angels. I would also have stayed home from work, but alas, the first thing to melt was the roads.
Todd is coming home today after a week at Fort Stewart. I'm pretty excited. And distracted. It's hard to work effectively when you're watching a clock, counting down time. He's not going to be in Huntsville very long (surprise), so as soon as 5:00 gets here, I'll be out the door and gone. Let's just hope I can get something accomplished between now and then.
Also, Punxsutawney Phil LIES.