Today was another day of acquiring new glasses, only this time they weren't for me.
The spectacle-wearer's first comment? "My sister said I look like a nerd in glasses."
My response? "Do you think you look like a nerd?"
"My sister does."
"I think they make you look smart."
"Yeah, that's what I said: 'A NERD.'"
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Wednesday
The leaves are falling and turning yellow and red already, and it's not even September yet. Some of us are confused about this weather condition, not sure whether it's unseasonably autumn or just the normal course of events at this time of year.
I talked to the guy who usually checks out our books at the library today. He was sans glasses, which I thought was a new look for him. He said he only wears contact lenses in the summer. All winter he wears glasses, but he won't wear them in the summer because in the hot weather the glasses keep sliding down his nose. I think that's a point I missed in my glasses commentary below. I told him about my recent analysis of the pros and cons of glasses vs. contacts. He volunteered that it's an exciting event when one gets new frames and lenses, which is what I was already thinking. (One of those memories that steadfastly sticks in my head is that when I was 12 or 13 and met my dad's friend Ralph, who came over for dinner, my attempt at trying to engage Ralph in polite conversation was to tell him my dad had just gotten new glasses that day, to which Ralph replied, "I don't give a damn about his new glasses." I was never sure if he thought he was being funny or honest, and I had also just watched him drink six beers in about one hour.)
Last night I tried to come up with a meal from the remnants of months and months of neglected pantry food. After I went through a few partially empty boxes and discarded all the food that had long passed its expiration date, I actually cleared off three shelves. For dinner, the pantry and I came up with canned peas, and a small pan of lasagna, with added spaghetti sauce, American cheese (not found in the pantry), and seasoned breadcrumbs (how does a person use 64 ounces of seasoned breadcrumbs?). The reluctant addition of the American cheese, upon learning that the cheddar cheese was a little moldy, actually wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Someone told me today that you can't go wrong with adding anything to pasta. I also came to terms with using a package of instant sweet mashed potatoes. It's been sitting there on the shelf, taunting me with its ease of preparation, in spite of its hideous flavor. Well, I made it, and I ate it, but nobody else here who had it on their plate would touch it.
I feel a little guilty and sad today, as I ended my account with the auto insurance company I've had for about 13 years. I found a company that would enable me to save $40 per month. The old insurance company and my mother thought it wasn't necessarily a good idea to switch policies. There's the risk of the new insurance raising rates significantly if I get into an accident, they said. There's the risk of going with someone new who you don't know, who might not be as nice as the familiar people. I guess I am willing to take the risk, and hope that the naysayers are not going to be right.
It rained today, and I was cold in my sleeveless shirt when I was outside. I guess I'll have to make an effort to watch the weather when I make those difficult wardrobe decisions in the morning.
I talked to the guy who usually checks out our books at the library today. He was sans glasses, which I thought was a new look for him. He said he only wears contact lenses in the summer. All winter he wears glasses, but he won't wear them in the summer because in the hot weather the glasses keep sliding down his nose. I think that's a point I missed in my glasses commentary below. I told him about my recent analysis of the pros and cons of glasses vs. contacts. He volunteered that it's an exciting event when one gets new frames and lenses, which is what I was already thinking. (One of those memories that steadfastly sticks in my head is that when I was 12 or 13 and met my dad's friend Ralph, who came over for dinner, my attempt at trying to engage Ralph in polite conversation was to tell him my dad had just gotten new glasses that day, to which Ralph replied, "I don't give a damn about his new glasses." I was never sure if he thought he was being funny or honest, and I had also just watched him drink six beers in about one hour.)
Last night I tried to come up with a meal from the remnants of months and months of neglected pantry food. After I went through a few partially empty boxes and discarded all the food that had long passed its expiration date, I actually cleared off three shelves. For dinner, the pantry and I came up with canned peas, and a small pan of lasagna, with added spaghetti sauce, American cheese (not found in the pantry), and seasoned breadcrumbs (how does a person use 64 ounces of seasoned breadcrumbs?). The reluctant addition of the American cheese, upon learning that the cheddar cheese was a little moldy, actually wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Someone told me today that you can't go wrong with adding anything to pasta. I also came to terms with using a package of instant sweet mashed potatoes. It's been sitting there on the shelf, taunting me with its ease of preparation, in spite of its hideous flavor. Well, I made it, and I ate it, but nobody else here who had it on their plate would touch it.
I feel a little guilty and sad today, as I ended my account with the auto insurance company I've had for about 13 years. I found a company that would enable me to save $40 per month. The old insurance company and my mother thought it wasn't necessarily a good idea to switch policies. There's the risk of the new insurance raising rates significantly if I get into an accident, they said. There's the risk of going with someone new who you don't know, who might not be as nice as the familiar people. I guess I am willing to take the risk, and hope that the naysayers are not going to be right.
It rained today, and I was cold in my sleeveless shirt when I was outside. I guess I'll have to make an effort to watch the weather when I make those difficult wardrobe decisions in the morning.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Office Polls and Nerdy Glasses
Today I polled my co-workers. No one else received the rude awakening Sunday morning at 5:26 a.m. that I received about 9-1-1 being out of service, but one co-worker concurred with my feeling about the level of urgency one might anticipate upon hearing the phone ring at that hour: Someone I love probably died. Or something is really, really wrong.
Today I picked up my new glasses, exciting for me to be back to my nerdy roots. I lost my glasses in December, so I've had to contend a little bit every day since then with an old pair that's too weak for my eyes.
I wondered to myself why I wear contact lenses. I guess there are lots of reasons, including being able to wear sunglasses, having greater freedom of movement, and not getting raindrops or fog on my glasses, but the original reason, dating back to the eighth grade, was so I didn't look like such a nerd. Today if I look like a nerd, no one will notice and no one will care. Come to think of it, in the eighth grade or anytime thereafter, the same was probably true.
Today I picked up my new glasses, exciting for me to be back to my nerdy roots. I lost my glasses in December, so I've had to contend a little bit every day since then with an old pair that's too weak for my eyes.
I wondered to myself why I wear contact lenses. I guess there are lots of reasons, including being able to wear sunglasses, having greater freedom of movement, and not getting raindrops or fog on my glasses, but the original reason, dating back to the eighth grade, was so I didn't look like such a nerd. Today if I look like a nerd, no one will notice and no one will care. Come to think of it, in the eighth grade or anytime thereafter, the same was probably true.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
A County-Wide Rude Awakening
Have I ever gotten a phone call at 5:26 a.m.? I doubt it. Oh, that's right, I did get one this morning. Why do I think I might get a phone call at 5:26 a.m.?
1) Wrong number.
2) Tragedy or death struck someone I love.
3) The county calls to give everyone in the county a phone number to call because 9-1-1 is not in service.
As I violently awoke from the depths of a comforting, restful, healthy sleep, contemplating whether the phone call at 5:26 a.m. fell under #1 or #2, I decided not to answer the call. Fully awake after the fourth ring, I decided that if the phone call fell under reason #2, which I would want to take, the caller would know and use my cell phone if it were truly urgent. I decided it was a wrong number after listening for a possible follow up ring on my cell phone and none came. I lay awake, alone, for about 10 minutes, kind of scared to get up, go down the hall, and to the kitchen to find out if the caller left a message. I heard a few noises in the house. Half-asleep fear of the darkness and the unknown entered my consciousness briefly, and I irrationally wondered if I should lock my bedroom door. After about a half hour, I went back to sleep, the desire for sleep blocking out my fear, my rational subconsciousness telling me I live in a safe neighborhood, and that the noises were probably my imagination.
Later in the morning, at a more decent hour, I got up to see if the caller had left a message. There was a message there. I expected it to be the wrong number. Someone had just called our house on Friday, thinking they had called a restaurant.
It turns out the reason fell under #3. It wasn't even a call made from a human. I wouldn't have minded if the county's new alert system called me at 5:26 a.m., or any time of day, morning, or night, to warn me of a tornado, earthquake, volcano, neighborhood plane crash, deadly chemical spill, environmental catastrophe, or imminent terrorist attack. But to wake me up that early on a Sunday morning to tell me that, just in case I might need to call 9-1-1, that I should use a different phone number, because 9-1-1 doesn't work at 5:26 a.m.? What were they thinking? With all that advanced technology, why couldn't they just forward the calls to the non-9-1-1 number? Or just anticipate that someone in an emergency situation might open up a phone book, page 1, to look up the local ambulance, police, or fire telephone number, if that someone couldn't get through on 9-1-1?
Did anyone ask me if I wanted to be part of this emergency alert system? Did anyone ask me if I wanted to be alerted if 9-1-1 doesn't work? Who decided that this constituted an emergency? Thanks, but no thanks.
1) Wrong number.
2) Tragedy or death struck someone I love.
3) The county calls to give everyone in the county a phone number to call because 9-1-1 is not in service.
As I violently awoke from the depths of a comforting, restful, healthy sleep, contemplating whether the phone call at 5:26 a.m. fell under #1 or #2, I decided not to answer the call. Fully awake after the fourth ring, I decided that if the phone call fell under reason #2, which I would want to take, the caller would know and use my cell phone if it were truly urgent. I decided it was a wrong number after listening for a possible follow up ring on my cell phone and none came. I lay awake, alone, for about 10 minutes, kind of scared to get up, go down the hall, and to the kitchen to find out if the caller left a message. I heard a few noises in the house. Half-asleep fear of the darkness and the unknown entered my consciousness briefly, and I irrationally wondered if I should lock my bedroom door. After about a half hour, I went back to sleep, the desire for sleep blocking out my fear, my rational subconsciousness telling me I live in a safe neighborhood, and that the noises were probably my imagination.
Later in the morning, at a more decent hour, I got up to see if the caller had left a message. There was a message there. I expected it to be the wrong number. Someone had just called our house on Friday, thinking they had called a restaurant.
It turns out the reason fell under #3. It wasn't even a call made from a human. I wouldn't have minded if the county's new alert system called me at 5:26 a.m., or any time of day, morning, or night, to warn me of a tornado, earthquake, volcano, neighborhood plane crash, deadly chemical spill, environmental catastrophe, or imminent terrorist attack. But to wake me up that early on a Sunday morning to tell me that, just in case I might need to call 9-1-1, that I should use a different phone number, because 9-1-1 doesn't work at 5:26 a.m.? What were they thinking? With all that advanced technology, why couldn't they just forward the calls to the non-9-1-1 number? Or just anticipate that someone in an emergency situation might open up a phone book, page 1, to look up the local ambulance, police, or fire telephone number, if that someone couldn't get through on 9-1-1?
Did anyone ask me if I wanted to be part of this emergency alert system? Did anyone ask me if I wanted to be alerted if 9-1-1 doesn't work? Who decided that this constituted an emergency? Thanks, but no thanks.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
From Hell to Heaven
A bright, shiny, brilliant day. A great day to watch "From Hell." At least it's over and now I can mail it back. I started to watch it last Friday night but didn't get through the whole thing, so it took me a week and a day to get back to it. It was very dark.
Today I had a revelation from above. Well, I mean a revelation from looking up at the brilliant, blue sky. I looked up at the sky and I realized that mankind has artificially created humanity's idea of a higher power that resides in heaven. We have all-knowing satellites that look down upon us from up above in the ethereal realm, with the ability to monitor and record what we do, check on us to see if we're engaging in any wrongdoing, and send us information, but we can't see them. It's a self-prophesizing phenomenon. Something the authors of religious texts from centuries ago never could have imagined or foreseen.
Today I had a revelation from above. Well, I mean a revelation from looking up at the brilliant, blue sky. I looked up at the sky and I realized that mankind has artificially created humanity's idea of a higher power that resides in heaven. We have all-knowing satellites that look down upon us from up above in the ethereal realm, with the ability to monitor and record what we do, check on us to see if we're engaging in any wrongdoing, and send us information, but we can't see them. It's a self-prophesizing phenomenon. Something the authors of religious texts from centuries ago never could have imagined or foreseen.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Sometimes I Talk Too Much?
Today I contemplated, as I do often, the act of having a conversation. I did that because, as I do often, I have conversations with people. Sometimes I feel bad about these conversations because those people don't respond in kind, meaning that they don't respond to what I'm saying, or give me a completely disinterested response, or don't get it and don't want to get it.
All of my conversations with people today were disappointing (and these were just the primary ones):
Conversation with Person #1: Total Disconnect. One-Word Responses. Not Even Trying to Listen or Comprehend or Participate.
Conversation with Person #2: Pretending to Listen, But Not Listening. Forgot Everything I Said Within Moments of Me Speaking It.
Conversation with Person #3: One-Way Talker. I tried to intervene with my own comments, experiences, and suggestions, but she interrupted all of it.
Conversation with Myself: I have a headache.
I did have a nice conversation on the phone with someone today. She's always nice, compassionate and considerate, and she listens. And I listened too. I didn't think of it until much later, after my headache started wear off.
All of my conversations with people today were disappointing (and these were just the primary ones):
Conversation with Person #1: Total Disconnect. One-Word Responses. Not Even Trying to Listen or Comprehend or Participate.
Conversation with Person #2: Pretending to Listen, But Not Listening. Forgot Everything I Said Within Moments of Me Speaking It.
Conversation with Person #3: One-Way Talker. I tried to intervene with my own comments, experiences, and suggestions, but she interrupted all of it.
Conversation with Myself: I have a headache.
I did have a nice conversation on the phone with someone today. She's always nice, compassionate and considerate, and she listens. And I listened too. I didn't think of it until much later, after my headache started wear off.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Repetition in Moderation
I had a weekend almost as if someone hit "repeat" on my life machine. Back down to the hometown, back to the pontoon, back to fresh air, back to a visit with both parents, and ate more Mexican food. Just as with most everything novel, it's energizing to get a change of perspective/scenery/company, but the novelty never fails to wear off. Never. Fails. To. Wear. Off. N-e-v-e-r .... f-a-i-l-s ... t-o ... w-e-a-r ... o-f-f ...
... that third time was rather cumbersome, wasn't it?
... that third time was rather cumbersome, wasn't it?
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