February 2005 Archives

This was a writing workshop thing that Ellen, age 7, did in her 1st grade class. We questioned her up and down as to whether she make this up, or got it from somewhere, but she swears she made it up.

Love is...

A delicious food that makes you feel like you can fly. When you are alone love can lift you up and make you feel at home. Love is as sweet as ice cream because it lets you know you are warm inside.

This courtesy of McSweeney's

Spitty the Camel

Mr. Shingles

Julius 'n' Ethel

Joseph Gerbils

Foamy the Rabid Puma

Ann Eurysm

"Kurtz"

Theodora the Old-Time Saloon Whore

Wylie Von Footfetish

Big Disease-Carrying Bird

Today was the day that we want to visit our bean counter. Perfect accoutant material, but he's seriously lackadaisical. So, he tells us that we probably won't owe more than a few thousand dollars. After all is said and done, that "few" is SIX THOUSAND, at least. Whee.

But, on the plus side, after we go to him, we go to this place called "Fontana Gyros" on the corner of Francis Lewis Blvd and Northern Blvd. It's the BEST gyros ever. Here are a few pictures of Katie there, as well as one of the gyros.

So...Yes, an iPod Shuffle is a USB 2.0 device. And yes, an iPod shuffle can be mounted as a hard drive. And, still yes, you can take multiple USB devices and connect them together to make a RAID.

The question is...SHOULD YOU?

Geek.

These are a few posts I've wanted to post, but just haven't gotten around to, so I'm pilingthem into one meaty post instead of a couple of weak little ones.

First, from the "She's an honorary New Yorker" catagory, Kim got in a good one the other day at a motorist who decided to pull out in front of us at 10 MPH in a 40 zone. I'm giving him my own standard, "God Damn...crappy Nissan Sentra piece of shit...", 'cause it was, and she pipes up with "Pedal faster!". I laughed my ass off...

Next, from the "I wanna do everything daddy does" catagory, I'm working out on our new elliptical tonight and katie comes in asking what I'm doing. "I'm exercising," I answer. To which she replies "I'm going to exercise too!" and starts running around my bedroom at top Katie-speed, tongue sticking out. She runs about 10 steps, stops, turns around, runs another 10 steps. Repeat. That lasts about 2 minutes, then she decides to rest and eventually wanders off. There's dedication.

Finally, from the "Better late than never" category, Ellen's New Years Resolutions found their way to my desk in the form of a written assignment at school. God knows when it was done, but I just saw it a week or so ago. Here it is, intact:

My New Years Resolution is to stop picking my lips so that I will save tissues and put on more Carmex and I will comb and brush my hair so that the cow won't lick my hair.

Her words, not mine.

That's the list for now.

Today, I bought Ellen this 36 book set from costco called "A Treasury of Illustrated Classics". The site talks about the smaller, 20 volume thus:

The best of the world’s classics have been especially adapted and fully illustrated for today’s young readers. The enchantment of these timeless tales has set generations on a lifetime love of reading. The 20 hardcover volumes are the perfect gift for your favorite youngsters. 

This collection contains Around The World In 80 Days, Journey To The Center Of The Earth, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, The Swiss Family Robinson, 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea, Kidnapped, The Adventures Of Sherlock Holmes, The Tale Of Two Cities, The Red Badge Of Courage, Frankenstein, The Time Machine, Tales Of Mystery and Terror, The Hunchback Of Notre Dame, The Jungle Book, Gulliver's Travels, The Legend Of Sleepy Hollow, Picture Of Dorian Gray, Dracula, The War Of The World's and Aesop's Fables.

So, I get it home and Kim looks it over and gives it the OK, and then Ellen takes out Robinson Carusoe and starts to read. About an hour later, she puts it down because Katie turns on Scooby Doo and she wants to watch, more than 110 pages into the book. These are NOVELS, and she's just pouring through them. It's just unbelievable to me.

Well, the repeat sleep study is over and I seem to have passed. No one came to me in the middle of the night to make me put on SCUBA gear--which is a very good thing. I still have to wait for the doctor's report, but if they don't see enough to test out CPAP, there's probably not much, if anything, there. This is, obviously, a serious relief. Although I THOUGHT I was "all better", this was the only way to be sure.

However, a small rant on the subject of these sleep studies. How hard can it possibly be to make these electrodes wireless? Is this supposed to simulate a night's sleep? it's insane. I had to get someone to unhook me to go to the bathroom, I was constantly getting tangled, pulling tape on my legs as I tried to roll over, pressing the wires into the side of my head if I tried to sleep that way. It's ridiculous. How I managed 4 or 5 hours, I have no idea.

OK, rant off. Glad to be among the sleep-enabled.

Well, not really...but it's a good title! Actually, it's more like "sleeping in a strange place with little sensors attached to my body in uncomfortable places"...but that's sorta the same, right?

Tonight is the post-surgery follow-up sleep study that should tell if I still have sleep apnea. I'm sure hoping I don't, and Kim insists that I'm so silent that she has to check to see if I'm there at night if she wakes up and I'm asleep. I think that's a compliment...

Anyway, I just got back to bed and am wired up. There are electrodes on my shins, my upper chest, straps around my belly and my chest, two electrodes on my chin tucked into my beard, one behind each ear, three on my forehead, and three in my hair. Also, there is a thing that runs into each nostril and hangs down over my mouth, another electrode on my throat, and this pulse thingie on my finger. I'm typing this with "the other nine fingers," as the technician suggested.

I'm anxious about this, of course, because I don't want to have apnea. That will necessitate all sorts of CPAP ugliness that I'd certainly rather avoid. Well, we'll see tonight, I guess.

I've been listening to, and playing, a good deal of music lately for myself and a friend of mine online, and it's brought back many of my loves for good music, especially good guitaring. We listened to the 3 different versions of "Little Wing" tonight, by Hendrix first, then by Clapton (Derek and the Dominoes), and finally by Stevie Ray Vaughn. I think that SRV was the most talented guitarist I've ever heard, but he wasn't nearly the songwriter that either Clapton or Hendrix was, and that hurt him in popularity. But, if you want to hear a virtuoso performence of style, techincal ability, and mountains of pure feel, try SRV's version of Little Wing.

Then we listened to B.B. King, and NO one plays the blues like he did. He's a lot like Louie Armstrong to me. Not only was Pops a fabulous trumpet player, indeed one of the best, but then what a voice! B.B. is like that. The best blues guitarist ever, and then, oh, by the way? Listen to that VOICE.

How blues can you get!?

Courtesy of Gaiman's blog, a few sundry oddities:

Sushi Pillows. Get 'em while they're cold.

And, the ducks are back. This time they're animated. Woo.

People are odd. I like it.