Cause and Effect
Monday, February 20, 2006 ~ 03:08 p.m.

This article was stolen from Jeff:

"Jacqueline Dotson and her six-year-old daughter had to be cut out of their vehicle after the accident in which Dotson veered into the median and over-corrected, rolling her truck over the guardrail and landing upside down after flipping several times....Her arm was found near the accident still clutching a cell phone."

It's not funny. Not at all. But I can't count the number of times I've almost been pasted by a SUV recklessly driven by a woman on a cell phone, and because of that, I admit I smiled a little.

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We're not alone!
Thursday, February 16, 2006 ~ 02:41 p.m.

You know, I'm really starting to think that too many people in the world have nothing better to do than sit around and think up ways to make their entire religion look absolutely batshit loco. It's like it's almost become a competition lately to see which major religion can out-crazy the other. And this week, Islam is definitely winning, what with the "I'm mad about this cartoon that insults my peaceful religion, so I reckon I'll go burn some shit down."

And you have to feel sorry for all the millions of Muslims NOT rioting over a cartoon. They're left to just feel embarrassed about it. Kind of how I feel when I see Bush on TV. It just makes me want to cover my eyes and pretend I don't know him. "George Bush who? Never heard of him. President? No." Like that.

But the one good thing to come out of all the mass idiocy is that at least Americans aren't the only ones retarded enough to rename their foods in protest.

Take that, Freedom Fries!

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Today of all days
Thursday, February 16, 2006 ~ 01:19 p.m.

Today is absolutely gorgeous outside. 70 degrees, breezy, sunny - the perfect psuedo-spring day. And I'm IN THE OFFICE.

Also, my husband, loving man that he is, called to tell me that he and some buddies from work are taking the rest of the day off to go play golf. Isn't there a law against that kind of phone call? Spousal abuse or some such?

Last night we got home at 9:00 and were greeted by the sound of muffled, panicked meows. I tracked them down the guest bathroom, and upon opening the door was nearly bowled over by a supersonic orange blur. It turns out Nala had gone in to molest the door stop (because it's so deliciously springy), succeded in decapitating it, and, during the course of her victory dance, accidentally kicked the door shut. She then proceeded to freak out, literally climbing the walls and clawing at the pictures and the window, perhaps in the hope that the neighbors would rush to her rescue. When that failed, she commenced to puking. Because obviously, it wouldn't do for the humans to come home to a house devoid of cat vomit, and she had some free time. After I got Nala fed, I cleaned up the bathroom. Ten minutes later, Stitch puked all over the office. We should just buy stock in Resolve.

Watching the ski jumpers at the Olympics:

Todd: Look at this.
Me: Holy crap, these guys are insane.
Todd: ......How do they fly that far with balls that big?
Me: No kidding. You'd think they'd just fall back to earth with a resounding clang.

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I am such a geek
Tuesday, February 14, 2006 ~ 02:59 p.m.

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Help me
Tuesday, February 7, 2006 ~ 02:44 p.m.

I used to be in good shape. I raced canoes, so I had plenty of endurance and damn, were my arms and back strong. I could do push-ups without the crying. For a while, back in 2003, I could even run three miles, non-stop. How sick is that?

Today, I could probably run three miles...if someone had a big rabid dog to chase me. Or a cattle prod. And only if it was 70 degrees, sunny, and mid-day. Since I'm sure as hell not going to crawl out of my nice warm bed to go run 5 miles before breakfast in sub-artic temperatures (Todd), or bike a bazillion-kazillion miles at lunch (Todd), or work out at an actual gym instead of going home to collapse after work (...Todd), I'm left alone with my growing fear of Office Ass.

Office Ass, people! Capitalized. Oh, it's coming, slowly but surely. Borne on the wings of a thousand Schlotzsky's pizzas, it's headed my way.

So, instead of indulging in McDonald's chicken nuggets and Quizno's subs, I have returned to packing my lunch on days when I'm in the office. Yogurt, cheese slices, crackers, an orange or an apple, and a granola bar are the main ingredients of choice. Our grocery store's recent decision to carry nothing but strawberry yogurt has complicated the issue as of late, but I've been good, honest.

But there are days like today, where I'll eat the lunch I've brought and settle back down to work, only to be interrupted by a plaintive growl from my stomach. "That's it? That's all? I mean, that was a great appetizer, but surely you plan on feeding me. There's some cake in the break room. Cake, woman! And Cheetos. Yeeeeeesssssss, Cheetos." And I try to remain strong. I do. But by 3:00, all I can think of is FOOD. And by 4:00, I've resorted to gnawing on the foul fruit-and-nut mix I keep in my desk, like some sort of deranged squirrel, and I'm pissed as hell. And by 5:00, well by 5:00, my stomach has actually collapsed in upon itself and, as far as I can tell, my universe has ENDED. Which is pretty much why I hate cooking, now that I think on it. Because if your universe was on the brink of being sucked over the event horizon located where your abdomen used to be, you wouldn't want to wait an entire freakin' hour for dinner either.

So here's where I need some suggestions. I don't like sweet snacks (they make me nauseous and jittery), but Pringles and Cheese Nips aren't exactly healthy choices, see. Is there any snack out there that is magically delicious, without the qualities that normally account for such deliciousness? Something portable too. Something that will keep me from murdering coworkers in fits of hunger-induced rage. Does any such food exist?

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Tuesday, February 7, 2006 ~ 08:36 a.m.

slyflame --

A person with a sixth sense for detecting the presence of goblins

'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at

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Another day, another repair
Thursday, February 2, 2006 ~ 04:36 p.m.

Today, while visiting job sites in Cullman (a craptastic little "city" about a 45-minutes south of Huntsville), the clutch on the QORE truck I was riding in went out, leaving us stranded. And who might I have been with? Who else? Our boss is amused, and yet, not amused. The Curse holds. And it's still NOT MY FAULT.

Other than cooling my heels at a BP in Cullman (oh, the pain) for 4 hours, today has actually turned out to be a decent day. Todd came home a day early AND found out that he does NOT have to go to Pasadena next week! Of course, I was looking forward to an exciting week of not shaving my legs (oh, the fun and adventure I'll miss), but I suppose I can cope.

Last week, I got the movie night group addicted to the first season of 24. I'm a fan and all (that's why I own the DVDs), but I've been too much of a chicken to watch the subsequent seasons. I'm afraid they won't be as good, and I want to keep my illusions. The same goes for Firefly. If Fox ever defied their lord and master, Satan started the show back up and made a second season, I'd be scared to watch it for fear of destroying the dream. I mean, the first season was just so good. I would almost rather not support the one TV show I really love, just so I don't have to see them drop it in the crapper. I also might have eaten paint chips as a child.

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And all these years I've been laughing
Wednesday, February 1, 2006 ~ 09:31 a.m.

Once upon a time, as a young engineering student in the spring of 2002, I took Fluid Mechanics with a professor appropriately named Dr. Moses. Now, Dr. Moses was an interesting guy. He fancied himself a bit of an inventor and was always discussing his various ideas with the class. Having him for a professor was reckoned a coup by most civil engineering students because we weren't required to take Fluids II, and his classes, while incredibly short on actual fluids mechanics, were entertaining and relatively easy.

I remember the day I finally decided Dr. Moses was bit off his rocker. We were having a class discussion about Iraq, and its plans to take over the United States using half-human, half-animal super soldiers. I don't remember exactly what was said, but I know I never really took him seriously again.

Then Bush suddenly decided to kick the everliving shit out of Iraq. And last night, nearly four years later, our Shrub-in-Chief actually called on Congress to pass legislation banning the creation of human-animal hybrids.

Coincidence? Did the late Dr. Moses advise the President about the impending attack of the tiger-people? Is my crazy Fluids professor the reason we're stuck with a Commander-in-Chief who can't pronounce the word "nuclear"? Am I going to Hell for making fun of a dead man?

And here's another question. I'm pretty sure everyone knows WHY the gubment eavesdrops - the question is what was wrong with doing it with warrants. But based on Bush's "blahblahnationalsecurityblah" last night, that's not the debate we're having. How did they DO that?

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