Archive for the ‘Personal’ Category

I’m afraid of my can-opener

July 9, 2008

My mom bought me one of those can-openers that sits on the can itself and walks its way around the rim of the can.  This leaves you with your hands free and a can that’s not sharp enough to cut you.  For some reason though, the opener doesn’t stop once it gets around the can.  It just keeps walking and walking and eventually I have to grab it and forcefully punch the button several times to make it stop, then pry the top of the can off it.  It’s giving me stress.

I have another can-opener, but I somehow feel that using it would be disloyal to my mom.  I keep forcing myself to use the new gizmo, even though it seriously limits my enjoyment of a can of beans.

I may need help.

Perfect summer nights

July 2, 2008

I love summer.  Love the desperation of it and the way that heat can be something you get molded into. Love watching my skin turn into the olive and brown it has adapted to through six or so generations in the swelter.  Love the feeling of grit on the back of my neck and a the shock of knowing that my body can’t tolerate this indefinitely. Love realizing that I must have water.

More than that, I love a cool summer night after a muggy, blastedly hot day and eventual rain.  Love the clean smell of it and the momentary respite, sitting in a wooden swing.  It reminds me that in about three months I’ll smell something crisp and feel the first tiny breeze of fall just before the summer kicks up into its last, bitchiest wave.

Older Dog

June 24, 2008

Olive is about six years old now. There’s a little eyebrow of white in the brown smudge over her right eye. While I read and swing in the back yard, she usually lies prone in a patch of sunlight instead of dashing around crazy after her arch enemy the squirrel. She’s slower to jump in and out of the car, and there’s some new sort of dignity that beams out of her on the rare occasion that she makes eye contact.

http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2138/2254086388_df8f739b3c_m.jpg

Olive. Photo by Andy

Olive at 7.

Every so often though, she’ll be hit by something and turn back to her silly young self. Olive has the least decorous run of any dog you’ll ever see. I call her The Dorkhound, when she does this. She’s a little swaybacked, her head bobs up and down from the shoulders, and her ears flap while she goes. This is all capped off with an open mouth that seems to grin. Finally she’ll get so excited that she’ll spin in a galloping circle and eventually fall over herself with glee. It’s rare, but she still does it, and when she does there’s no trace of the burgeoning old lady.

I’ve noticed that with Jeffrey around, Olive takes on a few more personalties. She’s at first Stodgy Olive, annoyed by the rambunctious whipper-snapper of a puppy. Next she’s forgotten herself and started playing wildly, this is Young at Heart Olive. She spins, lunges, runs, and whirls. After a bit she tires out and tries to call time, but Jeffrey (Jeff Vader as I’ve nicknamed him) doesn’t get that. It takes Big Strong Olive to get her point across. That version never lasts long, and is a pretty difficult character for her to adopt.

Its both wonderful and sad to see her interact with a young dog. She’s much more vigorous when Jeffrey’s around, and seems like more of a dog somehow instead of a person. They roll around all over each other and vie for more attention.

He highlights her age though. Jeffrey’s getting stronger and more powerful by the day. Soon Big Strong Olive will be unrecognizable next to him. I’m guessing that as time goes by, she’ll sit beside me and watch him play, and join in less and less. I know I’m anthropomorphizing, but I somehow think she’ll feel older and more fragile.

Favorite things.

June 24, 2008
  • shoes that are dishwasher safe
  • eggs
  • ivory soap
  • spray on sunscreen
  • plumbers that show up really late giving you an excuse to not be at work

A good Saturday.

June 21, 2008

The whole place smells like the smoked turkey we’re going to take down to New Braunfels tonight to have with Phil, Andrea, my sister Erin, and her husband Matt.  Then it’s night float!

For now there’s two laptops to surf on, and some Willie to whistle along to.

Verbal Dissonance

June 11, 2008

What I meant to say to the 60+ year old IT guy at my lab today: “Bob, I’ve made an error while entering results in the LIMS, and the system has shut me out. Could you unlock my access at your earliest convenience?”

What actually came out of my mouth: “Dude, I just jacked some shit up in LIMS. You got that for me?”

That stinkin’ muppet

June 11, 2008

Elmo’s baby sister is getting me all cheesed off. Ever since she debuted, using the dreaded -ey ending of my name, NOBODY under the age of 5 will pronounce it properly. The Zoe vs Zoey debate has always been tricky, but with Sesame Street lending it credence, Zoey seems here to stay. People have always asked me “Are you sure?” when I tell them that the “e” is silent, now they just refuse to believe me. And this show purports to teach phonics.

In the English language, the second vowel is silent. Z*o*e is pronounced Zo. Rhymes with Joe. I do realize that the name is actually Greek, and therefore not really held to English pronunciation, but that fact does nothing to further this rant.

So, in review:

is Zoey.

is Zoe.

Today was going very well,

June 10, 2008

until I dropped my cell phone in the toilet.

Free Beer.

May 26, 2008

I’m a fan of Shiner Bock. I’ve never met a micro brew I didn’t like. I love your dark beers, your Belgian Whites, and your wheat brews. Corona w/ lime is good. The entire Modelo family gets my vote. I am a beer snob. I admit this.

Today while tubing, my cooler came open and my entire cache of Shiner Bock floated away. I was forced to cage beer off total strangers, which is an embarrassing newbie mistake for a local.

I drank a Keystone Light.

Hold me.

Andy and Me.

May 20, 2008

In Sausalito.