Now that all of the presidential debates are over, I'm finally ready to declare who won all the debates.
My guy.
Yeah, the way he just kept pounding what he believed in, and kept showing that the other guy--who is completely clueless I might add--simply has no idea what he's talking about, was great. I mean, just the way he kept showing how that other guy was just making stuff up about what my guy believes, and he kept showing all the misrepresentations of my guy's positions the other guy was making was ingenious.
Now I know that with the war going on, and with this huge financial crisis crippling our economy, my guy has do a few things that might be unpopular. But that other guy's ideas really go too far, and in some cases don't go far enough. My guy understands all the issues and will do what's best for America. That other guy just has no clue.
And have you seen who is supporting that other guy? Why the heck would anyone want to vote for someone that has support from them? I mean, they're just as clueless as the guy they're supporting.
I can't wait for this election to be over so my guy can begin all that change he's talking about, and that other guy will hopefully slip into obscurity.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Sunday, October 5, 2008
[Fiona] Odd But True
Odd but true...Webkinz are flippin' cool. I was never one as a child to play dollies and/or house. No way. I wanted to climb trees and build forts. My two sisters and I grew up in a neighborhood of boys. Suffice to say that the boys always had more fun, got dirtier and taught me to spit. How can a girl resist that kind of raw manliness?
Odd but true...I am afraid of dolls that have too much of a life like look to them. Clowns are also not high on my list and in the presence of a person dressed as a clown I get nervous. Shrek has to run interference so I don't break down and cry. So like I said not a big one for playing house when I was young. My best galpal has four wee ones at home. 2 boys, 2 girls and way 2 many Webkinz to keep track of.
Her kids got wind of them at school I am sure. On more than a few occassions when I am at their house visiting all "the babies" get brought out and paraded before me. Not really much interest on my part as Shrek and I have no children and no such plans for any. Having said that I fell in love with the whole Webkinz idea. I am now the proud "parent" to a chipmunk and a pink dragon. I couldn't be happier.
Odd but true...I can play "flash" games of solitaire, matching, cards. I earn kinzcash which can be used to buy groceries, clothes, furniture, doctor visits. A cool concept; teach responsibility and have fun. I am having a great time.
Odd but true...I am afraid of dolls that have too much of a life like look to them. Clowns are also not high on my list and in the presence of a person dressed as a clown I get nervous. Shrek has to run interference so I don't break down and cry. So like I said not a big one for playing house when I was young. My best galpal has four wee ones at home. 2 boys, 2 girls and way 2 many Webkinz to keep track of.
Her kids got wind of them at school I am sure. On more than a few occassions when I am at their house visiting all "the babies" get brought out and paraded before me. Not really much interest on my part as Shrek and I have no children and no such plans for any. Having said that I fell in love with the whole Webkinz idea. I am now the proud "parent" to a chipmunk and a pink dragon. I couldn't be happier.
Odd but true...I can play "flash" games of solitaire, matching, cards. I earn kinzcash which can be used to buy groceries, clothes, furniture, doctor visits. A cool concept; teach responsibility and have fun. I am having a great time.
Friday, September 26, 2008
[Shrek] Random Thoughts
I've been very busy as of late and have neglected this blog a little...so as I have a few minutes I'll just toss out some random thoughts.
* If Sarah Palin believes her home state of Alaska's proximity to Russia equates to foreign policy experience, then I must be a very pius person as I can see a church from my front room window. The failing of that would be that I must also be an alcoholic because I can see a barroom and a liquor store too.
* Despite what many pundits seem to think, not voting for Obama doesn't make you a racist. I know lots of folks that aren't planning on voting for him, and for the vast majority "racist" isn't a word I would use to describe them.
* Any list of the top five American film makers needs to have Ken Burns on it.
* "Sisyphean" is a great word that no one uses. It's a shame, because it describes most of what is going on in the political world today. "Nescient" is another great word, and it's why no one uses sisyphean.
* Dianne Williamson finally wrote a column where she didn't attack anyone or try to be funny. (Link: Old soldier commands our respect). She should try that more often. Despite not agreeing with her very often I read every column she writes. In the end, that's probably all she cares about.
* When did employees stop being employees and became "associates"? Who are they supposed to be associated with? Better yet, when did I stop being a "customer" and became a "guest"?
* If you're not in favor of replacing police officers with flagmen at state construction sites, travel down Rt 12 in Auburn as they widen the road. Count the number of officers and compare it to the number actually directing traffic. I have all the respect in the world for the police, but they should at least pretend to be paying attention to traffic.
* What's the easiest way to screw up a traffic pattern? Put a police cruiser in plain site. Suddenly everyone forgets how to drive.
* Both Run-DMC and Chic have a chance to be elected to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame this year. Despite being eligible, Stevie Ray Vaughn was not a finalist. Nescients.
* If Sarah Palin believes her home state of Alaska's proximity to Russia equates to foreign policy experience, then I must be a very pius person as I can see a church from my front room window. The failing of that would be that I must also be an alcoholic because I can see a barroom and a liquor store too.
* Despite what many pundits seem to think, not voting for Obama doesn't make you a racist. I know lots of folks that aren't planning on voting for him, and for the vast majority "racist" isn't a word I would use to describe them.
* Any list of the top five American film makers needs to have Ken Burns on it.
* "Sisyphean" is a great word that no one uses. It's a shame, because it describes most of what is going on in the political world today. "Nescient" is another great word, and it's why no one uses sisyphean.
* Dianne Williamson finally wrote a column where she didn't attack anyone or try to be funny. (Link: Old soldier commands our respect). She should try that more often. Despite not agreeing with her very often I read every column she writes. In the end, that's probably all she cares about.
* When did employees stop being employees and became "associates"? Who are they supposed to be associated with? Better yet, when did I stop being a "customer" and became a "guest"?
* If you're not in favor of replacing police officers with flagmen at state construction sites, travel down Rt 12 in Auburn as they widen the road. Count the number of officers and compare it to the number actually directing traffic. I have all the respect in the world for the police, but they should at least pretend to be paying attention to traffic.
* What's the easiest way to screw up a traffic pattern? Put a police cruiser in plain site. Suddenly everyone forgets how to drive.
* Both Run-DMC and Chic have a chance to be elected to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame this year. Despite being eligible, Stevie Ray Vaughn was not a finalist. Nescients.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
[Fiona] Paying It Forward
Random Acts of Kindness, Paying It Forward, Doing the Right Thing...call it whatever you want. It is something that more people should partake of not because you might reap some reward from it but because it makes you and the other participants feel happy; like the world is a good place to be in. Sometimes being happy to part of something bigger than yourself is all the reward necessary.
My parents never had much but they always gave 100% of what they could. The fastest way to get a smile give one away first. I guess you could say that was my mother's philosophy. My parents never thought twice about what action they should take about matters. If something needed to be fixed or someone needed that 's all it took for their involvement. I like to think that some of their goodness survived in my genes.
I found a brand new seriously shiny fully working totally tricked out cellphone...and I returned it to its rightful owner. Not because I had to but because I wanted to. I know from past experience just how heart sick a person can make themselves when things go awry. I found it open in a driveway I was exiting. It was a super sunny day. The reflection of the sun off the case caught my eye. I have to admit at first glance I thought that someone had run over the unfortunate cell because it looked flat. After closer inspection, I realized it was the new Envy by LG. This was no throw away occurence. Someone had dropped this phone.
I drove home showed hubby and told him of my plan to look through the phone's contact list and try to find a HOME number. I told you this phone was up and running. I could have easily misused it for any one of a hundred misdeeds but I am not that kind of a person. I found a listing for HOME. I dialed it from my own landline so as not to use this persons minutes and left a brief yet detailed message for the person to contact me so I could return the phone.
Long story short...phone lost...phone found...phone returned to rightful owner...Fiona feeling like life has deeper meaning. Owner calls next day to say thank you so much...I just hope that someday she does something good for someone else just because she can not because she has to.
My parents never had much but they always gave 100% of what they could. The fastest way to get a smile give one away first. I guess you could say that was my mother's philosophy. My parents never thought twice about what action they should take about matters. If something needed to be fixed or someone needed that 's all it took for their involvement. I like to think that some of their goodness survived in my genes.
I found a brand new seriously shiny fully working totally tricked out cellphone...and I returned it to its rightful owner. Not because I had to but because I wanted to. I know from past experience just how heart sick a person can make themselves when things go awry. I found it open in a driveway I was exiting. It was a super sunny day. The reflection of the sun off the case caught my eye. I have to admit at first glance I thought that someone had run over the unfortunate cell because it looked flat. After closer inspection, I realized it was the new Envy by LG. This was no throw away occurence. Someone had dropped this phone.
I drove home showed hubby and told him of my plan to look through the phone's contact list and try to find a HOME number. I told you this phone was up and running. I could have easily misused it for any one of a hundred misdeeds but I am not that kind of a person. I found a listing for HOME. I dialed it from my own landline so as not to use this persons minutes and left a brief yet detailed message for the person to contact me so I could return the phone.
Long story short...phone lost...phone found...phone returned to rightful owner...Fiona feeling like life has deeper meaning. Owner calls next day to say thank you so much...I just hope that someday she does something good for someone else just because she can not because she has to.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
[Shrek] Insanity, Cheating, and Redemption
Fiona and I, along with friends Rich and Josie, bowled in the couple's league this summer at Colonial here in Worcester. For the most part, even though we bowled like crap for most of the season we had a good time.
For the most part.
Unfortunately, the league included an absolutely batshit crazy woman. And when I say "batshit crazy", I mean legitimately "eleven eggs short of a dozen" type of crazy. Add to her insanity the social skills of a seven year old and a more annoying voice than Fran Drescher, and you have all the makings for a huge explosion.
And that explosion came two weeks ago.
Our team--in next to last place and bowling the last place team--was bowling in the lanes right in front of the desk. So when I wasn't bowling I spent most of the night leaning against the desk shooting the shit with Bobby. While I was bowling the first five boxes of the third string something happened at the desk, that had I known about I would not have returned there when I was done.
When your match is over you fill out a yellow score sheet and turn it in at the desk. It seems that the crazy woman made a change to that sheet after it was turned in. Was she cheating as some were saying? Was she fixing an error that she says her daughter made? I don't know, and even to this minute, I don't care. What I do care about is what happened next.
As I came back to the desk from bowling, she accused me of cheating. "You cheat all the time and everyone catches you" were her exact words. My only reply to her was "excuse me?". She repeated her allegation. Twice.
I know exactly what she was doing. Because I have had it out with this crazy woman before she was hoping I would verbally defend myself so she could turn herself into the victim, shining the spotlight on me instead of her. There is no way she expected me to do what I did.
I walked away, laughing.
I went to tell my teammates what was happening so that they would know what was going on. Of course the team we were bowling heard me talking with my team, and they also began laughing. From that point on every single time someone got a good break the other team would laughingly accuse them of cheating. Seeing as gossip travels faster than the speed of light, it took absolutely no time for the whole league to know what she did and what she was saying.
For the record, I never told anyone about her changing the scores, only that she accused me and my team of cheating.
Fast forward to last Tuesday, and she was still making her accusation to anyone that would listen--or maybe more correctly--anyone she could corner and whine to. She was told by several people to keep her mouth shut, but as she has the mental power of a small child she just couldn't keep trying to deflect that spotlight off of her.
The team we bowled that week, who had been bowling next to us the week before, jumped right about the "cheating bandwagon" and began not only to accuse us of cheating when we got a good break, but also accused themselves of it. The two teams to our left were also doing it, so we had a great time that night laughing at each other--which if you think about it is the whole idea of the summer league.
Now the best part--I suspected we were going to bowl her team in the last week of the league (yesterday), so I asked Paul to check the schedule to see if I was right. And I was. So I made sure to let a couple folks know she had to bowl us yesterday.
As you may suspect, she was less than pleased to find out she had to bowl against us.
So after a few e-mails going back and forth between the four of us I decided I was going to take the high road--a path I don't normally take by the way--and just ignore the woman. Rich, on the other hand, decided that he'd had enough of her over the last couple years. He placed a bottle of white out and a couple of erasers on the scoring table.
He was also wearing a t-shirt that he made that had this picture on the front...
...along with the words "Super Cheater". On the back he had "HGH? Steroids? Eraser?"
When she saw it, she went nuts. She threatened to have Rich thrown out--which of course she didn't do because there was no chance of it happening. When Paul came down to ask Rich if there was going to be an issue, he calmly said that as long as she kept her mouth shut there wouldn't be any problems.
But, of course, being batshit crazy she couldn't, and after another outburst stormed off.
Our team went on to pound her team into the ground (they get to take her average at 100%, which is probably better than she would have gotten anyway), with me throwing the high triple of the season and was one bad box away from a 400 series. During the night several people came over and apologized to me because I had to put up with her craziness the last couple of weeks, and hoped it wouldn't keep us away next season. It won't, trust me on that.
What I am most proud of is my team, not for standing up for me, but for not letting the drama destroy what was a pretty fun year. I'm also proud of them because we didn't let it get to us, and over the last three weeks went from fighting to stay out of last place to ending up in fourth place and over .500 on the year after bowling so badly over a third of the season.
For the most part.
Unfortunately, the league included an absolutely batshit crazy woman. And when I say "batshit crazy", I mean legitimately "eleven eggs short of a dozen" type of crazy. Add to her insanity the social skills of a seven year old and a more annoying voice than Fran Drescher, and you have all the makings for a huge explosion.
And that explosion came two weeks ago.
Our team--in next to last place and bowling the last place team--was bowling in the lanes right in front of the desk. So when I wasn't bowling I spent most of the night leaning against the desk shooting the shit with Bobby. While I was bowling the first five boxes of the third string something happened at the desk, that had I known about I would not have returned there when I was done.
When your match is over you fill out a yellow score sheet and turn it in at the desk. It seems that the crazy woman made a change to that sheet after it was turned in. Was she cheating as some were saying? Was she fixing an error that she says her daughter made? I don't know, and even to this minute, I don't care. What I do care about is what happened next.
As I came back to the desk from bowling, she accused me of cheating. "You cheat all the time and everyone catches you" were her exact words. My only reply to her was "excuse me?". She repeated her allegation. Twice.
I know exactly what she was doing. Because I have had it out with this crazy woman before she was hoping I would verbally defend myself so she could turn herself into the victim, shining the spotlight on me instead of her. There is no way she expected me to do what I did.
I walked away, laughing.
I went to tell my teammates what was happening so that they would know what was going on. Of course the team we were bowling heard me talking with my team, and they also began laughing. From that point on every single time someone got a good break the other team would laughingly accuse them of cheating. Seeing as gossip travels faster than the speed of light, it took absolutely no time for the whole league to know what she did and what she was saying.
For the record, I never told anyone about her changing the scores, only that she accused me and my team of cheating.
Fast forward to last Tuesday, and she was still making her accusation to anyone that would listen--or maybe more correctly--anyone she could corner and whine to. She was told by several people to keep her mouth shut, but as she has the mental power of a small child she just couldn't keep trying to deflect that spotlight off of her.
The team we bowled that week, who had been bowling next to us the week before, jumped right about the "cheating bandwagon" and began not only to accuse us of cheating when we got a good break, but also accused themselves of it. The two teams to our left were also doing it, so we had a great time that night laughing at each other--which if you think about it is the whole idea of the summer league.
Now the best part--I suspected we were going to bowl her team in the last week of the league (yesterday), so I asked Paul to check the schedule to see if I was right. And I was. So I made sure to let a couple folks know she had to bowl us yesterday.
As you may suspect, she was less than pleased to find out she had to bowl against us.
So after a few e-mails going back and forth between the four of us I decided I was going to take the high road--a path I don't normally take by the way--and just ignore the woman. Rich, on the other hand, decided that he'd had enough of her over the last couple years. He placed a bottle of white out and a couple of erasers on the scoring table.
He was also wearing a t-shirt that he made that had this picture on the front...
...along with the words "Super Cheater". On the back he had "HGH? Steroids? Eraser?"
When she saw it, she went nuts. She threatened to have Rich thrown out--which of course she didn't do because there was no chance of it happening. When Paul came down to ask Rich if there was going to be an issue, he calmly said that as long as she kept her mouth shut there wouldn't be any problems.
But, of course, being batshit crazy she couldn't, and after another outburst stormed off.
Our team went on to pound her team into the ground (they get to take her average at 100%, which is probably better than she would have gotten anyway), with me throwing the high triple of the season and was one bad box away from a 400 series. During the night several people came over and apologized to me because I had to put up with her craziness the last couple of weeks, and hoped it wouldn't keep us away next season. It won't, trust me on that.
What I am most proud of is my team, not for standing up for me, but for not letting the drama destroy what was a pretty fun year. I'm also proud of them because we didn't let it get to us, and over the last three weeks went from fighting to stay out of last place to ending up in fourth place and over .500 on the year after bowling so badly over a third of the season.
Monday, August 11, 2008
[Fiona] One of Those Days
Did you ever wake up and just know that it was going to be one of those days? Well this morning I just knew it was gonna be a day to remember. Most mornings I shrug it off and I must say that I did try to shake off that,"it is gonna be a shitty day feeling" but to no avail.
Today was not a stellar day. One of my dad's older brothers passed away. The water return on our toilet is leaking like an open wound. The bathroom sink is clogged. Oh yeah, I almost forgot I got stung by a bee about an hour ago. I take an allergy pill everyday but not today. I forgot.
Shrek and I never made it to work even though we went through all the motions to get us there. Like I said I just had a feeling this morning and about three quarters of the way to work...bam...car malfunction! Shrek and I called out of work from the side of the road and called our repair guy straight up! Well at least I can say that this part of our day turned out quite well as it was a small repair and not a piggy bank breaker,yippee!
I called my galpal earlier this evening as I needed a venting session followed by coffee. My gal pal and I try to walk her neighborhood at least once a week. It gets her away from her 4 wee ones and it gets me out of Shrek's way. I look foward to our walks as we chat about the stuff going on in our lives and we usually have a good laugh. We had just gotten back to her house when that stupid bee stung me! Somehow a bee landed on my left thumb and stung me at the knuckle.I was so angry. I actually yelled at the bee. "I can't believe you have the balls to attack me, you stupid bee! I've had a craptastic day! WTF!" I killed him. I am not sorry!
It is a damn wonderful thing that my galpal lives around the corner from a pharmacy! I placed a call to my MIL,nurse person, and asked her what I should do. I think the last time I was stung by a bee my stepdaughter was like ten years old. I have to honestly tell you I had no idea if I were allergic or not. A quick benadryl caplet and ice at sting location and I am just starting to feel better. The ice has returned my hand to a normal size. Thank you medication.
I felt this day was blog worthy and I am happy? to report that supper has not been an exception. I made Shrek chicken fingers and fries. I think it is only fair to tell you that as I prepared to put the fries into fry the bag split open from the bottom and I lost more than a few to the floor and trash bin! I am going to bed, bewitched,bothered and bewildered! I am through with you day!
Today was not a stellar day. One of my dad's older brothers passed away. The water return on our toilet is leaking like an open wound. The bathroom sink is clogged. Oh yeah, I almost forgot I got stung by a bee about an hour ago. I take an allergy pill everyday but not today. I forgot.
Shrek and I never made it to work even though we went through all the motions to get us there. Like I said I just had a feeling this morning and about three quarters of the way to work...bam...car malfunction! Shrek and I called out of work from the side of the road and called our repair guy straight up! Well at least I can say that this part of our day turned out quite well as it was a small repair and not a piggy bank breaker,yippee!
I called my galpal earlier this evening as I needed a venting session followed by coffee. My gal pal and I try to walk her neighborhood at least once a week. It gets her away from her 4 wee ones and it gets me out of Shrek's way. I look foward to our walks as we chat about the stuff going on in our lives and we usually have a good laugh. We had just gotten back to her house when that stupid bee stung me! Somehow a bee landed on my left thumb and stung me at the knuckle.I was so angry. I actually yelled at the bee. "I can't believe you have the balls to attack me, you stupid bee! I've had a craptastic day! WTF!" I killed him. I am not sorry!
It is a damn wonderful thing that my galpal lives around the corner from a pharmacy! I placed a call to my MIL,nurse person, and asked her what I should do. I think the last time I was stung by a bee my stepdaughter was like ten years old. I have to honestly tell you I had no idea if I were allergic or not. A quick benadryl caplet and ice at sting location and I am just starting to feel better. The ice has returned my hand to a normal size. Thank you medication.
I felt this day was blog worthy and I am happy? to report that supper has not been an exception. I made Shrek chicken fingers and fries. I think it is only fair to tell you that as I prepared to put the fries into fry the bag split open from the bottom and I lost more than a few to the floor and trash bin! I am going to bed, bewitched,bothered and bewildered! I am through with you day!
Monday, August 4, 2008
[Fiona] Tuesdays with Papa George
I try never to brag about my mad bowling skills. In truth, I am just mad because I suck at this New England favorite way to spend an evening. Shrek and I bowl on a couples' league in the summer. He always says it is for fun, but you know that's a crock. It can get pretty cut throat.
To me the best part of Tuesday nights in the summer is stopping at Papa George's Pizza for a nosh before we go off bowling. Papa George's Pizza is located at 351 June Street in Worcester, Ma. It is owned by Stephanie and Panagiotis (aka Peter) Stratos.
Sometimes it is more than just about the food that you get at a favorite spot. First, let me say that the marinated chicken is the best I have ever had anywhere, any place. Trust me, I eat a lot of chicken so I would know. What I love about this place is the love that they put into their business. Stephanie and Peter are very picky about the ingredients that get used in the making of their masterpieces. Pizza, fish and chips, grinders, calzones, salads, chicken wings, homemade baklava , cookies, ice cream novelties. They have it all and do it all so well. Drop in sometime, place an order, get to know the folks. I know you will go back again and again. It is that good.
Going for food here tugs at my heart. It reminds me of going home to family. There is a mix of bickering, laughing, good times, great food, and people you love to be with. We are always welcomed with open arms and questions about our general well being. I ask you when was the last time you went out to eat and someone cared about how you have been?
Just recently Stephanie and Peter went to Greece for three weeks to be with their family.Waiting for them to return was like waiting for Christmas. Sheer torture. I am not great at waiting, especially when I know that something great is waiting for me to sink my teeth into. While they were out of country Shrek and I went to Elsa's Bushel and Peck...ok but not the same. Food without a proper dose of love is...feed.
To me the best part of Tuesday nights in the summer is stopping at Papa George's Pizza for a nosh before we go off bowling. Papa George's Pizza is located at 351 June Street in Worcester, Ma. It is owned by Stephanie and Panagiotis (aka Peter) Stratos.
Sometimes it is more than just about the food that you get at a favorite spot. First, let me say that the marinated chicken is the best I have ever had anywhere, any place. Trust me, I eat a lot of chicken so I would know. What I love about this place is the love that they put into their business. Stephanie and Peter are very picky about the ingredients that get used in the making of their masterpieces. Pizza, fish and chips, grinders, calzones, salads, chicken wings, homemade baklava , cookies, ice cream novelties. They have it all and do it all so well. Drop in sometime, place an order, get to know the folks. I know you will go back again and again. It is that good.
Going for food here tugs at my heart. It reminds me of going home to family. There is a mix of bickering, laughing, good times, great food, and people you love to be with. We are always welcomed with open arms and questions about our general well being. I ask you when was the last time you went out to eat and someone cared about how you have been?
Just recently Stephanie and Peter went to Greece for three weeks to be with their family.Waiting for them to return was like waiting for Christmas. Sheer torture. I am not great at waiting, especially when I know that something great is waiting for me to sink my teeth into. While they were out of country Shrek and I went to Elsa's Bushel and Peck...ok but not the same. Food without a proper dose of love is...feed.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
[Shrek] Reunions, part deux
As I tell just about everyone, I am terrible at recognizing people. I am forever asking Fiona "is that so-and-so?" or "how do we know that person?". I'm even worse with names. People think I call folks "buddy" or "pal" because I'm friendly, but it's really because I don't have a freakin' clue what the person's name is. So for me to remember someone from more than twenty years ago would certainly be an odd occurrence.
But for me to remember that person's husband...well, you can't even get odds on that from Vegas.
Several weeks ago Fiona and I were in White Hen Pantry after work getting a soda when the older gentleman walked in. The light bulb went off in my head--I knew that I should know who this person was, but as usual, I couldn't place the face. So, I took my next usual step, I asked Fiona who it was. She had no idea.
I just presumed I was wrong and didn't know the person, so while Fiona was gabbing with the girls behind the counter I went out to the car. As I was walking out to the car I passed another car, and thought I recognized the person in the passenger seat. Seeing as the driver's side window was open (and she was parked next to my car), I asked if she had been a teacher at South High.
She quickly said she had been, and we spoke for a few minutes. Not shockingly, at first she didn't remember me, but after mentioning a few of the people in the class she even remembered the table I sat at during vertebrae anatomy class I had her for.
I jokingly mentioned how bad I am with names and faces, and the oddity that I would recognize her husband--a person I'd met just twice, the last time in 1986. At this point he returned to their car and mentioned that we probably had last met at my senior prom (and it was).
Funny thing is, I don't remember much from my prom night.
I've just recently had another reunion--albeit an virtual one--with someone else I haven't seen in nearly twenty years. When Paul Howley was at That's Entertainment a few weeks ago, we were exchanging information about people each of us hadn't run into in awhile. One of those folks he talked about was a former employee of TE, David Lynch.
One of the things Paul mentioned many times was that David was writing in his blog the story of a friend called My Island, and that I should most certainly check it out. It was supposed to be a six part series, but it had already swollen to many more than that.
So the next morning (Sunday), while Fiona was at Weight Watchers, I started reading the story. It is mindbogglingly good, and I spent much of that morning reading all the parts available. It is an incredibly soul searching collection, free of the gloss that often accompanies stories where the writer plays a major role.
I don't want to give too much away, and I urge everyone to read it.
David is currently on chapter 23, but THIS LINK will take you to chapter one. For other chapters, simply click on the purple arrow next to "June" in his blog for a list of the other chapters. You should also read the comments (and leave one if you'd like)...there's some lighthearted stuff that offsets some of the darkness.
I left a comment for David after one of his posts, and after he's finished with the story I'll run him off an e-mail to really catch up. If there's one lesson I've learned in life, it's never interrupt a writer when he's busy.
But for me to remember that person's husband...well, you can't even get odds on that from Vegas.
Several weeks ago Fiona and I were in White Hen Pantry after work getting a soda when the older gentleman walked in. The light bulb went off in my head--I knew that I should know who this person was, but as usual, I couldn't place the face. So, I took my next usual step, I asked Fiona who it was. She had no idea.
I just presumed I was wrong and didn't know the person, so while Fiona was gabbing with the girls behind the counter I went out to the car. As I was walking out to the car I passed another car, and thought I recognized the person in the passenger seat. Seeing as the driver's side window was open (and she was parked next to my car), I asked if she had been a teacher at South High.
She quickly said she had been, and we spoke for a few minutes. Not shockingly, at first she didn't remember me, but after mentioning a few of the people in the class she even remembered the table I sat at during vertebrae anatomy class I had her for.
I jokingly mentioned how bad I am with names and faces, and the oddity that I would recognize her husband--a person I'd met just twice, the last time in 1986. At this point he returned to their car and mentioned that we probably had last met at my senior prom (and it was).
Funny thing is, I don't remember much from my prom night.
I've just recently had another reunion--albeit an virtual one--with someone else I haven't seen in nearly twenty years. When Paul Howley was at That's Entertainment a few weeks ago, we were exchanging information about people each of us hadn't run into in awhile. One of those folks he talked about was a former employee of TE, David Lynch.
One of the things Paul mentioned many times was that David was writing in his blog the story of a friend called My Island, and that I should most certainly check it out. It was supposed to be a six part series, but it had already swollen to many more than that.
So the next morning (Sunday), while Fiona was at Weight Watchers, I started reading the story. It is mindbogglingly good, and I spent much of that morning reading all the parts available. It is an incredibly soul searching collection, free of the gloss that often accompanies stories where the writer plays a major role.
I don't want to give too much away, and I urge everyone to read it.
David is currently on chapter 23, but THIS LINK will take you to chapter one. For other chapters, simply click on the purple arrow next to "June" in his blog for a list of the other chapters. You should also read the comments (and leave one if you'd like)...there's some lighthearted stuff that offsets some of the darkness.
I left a comment for David after one of his posts, and after he's finished with the story I'll run him off an e-mail to really catch up. If there's one lesson I've learned in life, it's never interrupt a writer when he's busy.
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