Sunday July 29 4 realreal, not 4 playplay
MEtRoday: none
Yesterday Franklin picked me up for my One-Day-Vaca to visit Brandon in Lynchburg.
We arrive in Lynchburg about 1:00, and I am ordered to make mojitos while Franklin and Brandon unload the car. After some socializing we realize we need to get on our errand run, where we hit the J.Crew outlet store (not much worthwhile to find), a brief visit with Brandon's sister & mother, then it's on to the grocery store where we stock up for our bbq.
Dinner consists of hors d'oeuvres: cheese, olives, roasted garlic, shrimp cocktail. On the grill: rubbed chicken breasts, legs and wings, ears of corn, seasoned shrimp and our vegetable medley (grape tomatoes, asparagus, yellow & red peppers, portobello mushrooms). Also fresh mozzarella with roma tomatoes, basil and reduced balsamic vinegar. During the bbq all the while we are having white wine spritzers. Can you say "Yum!"? There was also a bubble machine.
Our original plan was to have dinner and then head to Charlottesville for a little nightlife. Instead, we decided to head further south to Roanoke. There, we go to Backstreet Cafe, infamous for a 9mm shooting spree in 2000 by Ronald Edward Gay, who was distraught about his last name. So he went into the bar and started shooting at innocent patrons, none of whom he had ever met, killing one and injuring many others. Time to get the hell out of there.
Next stop in ROE-UH-NOKE is Dewey Beach The Park,
with skanky teenagers with tatts all over bumping and grinding to "Pour
Some Sugar On Me". Uh huh. Yeah. Luckily, we were getting there around
last call, and therefore our evening was about over. Getting home, we have
nightcaps and zzzzzzzzzzzz.
The next day is sleep-ins, coffee and movies-on-the-couches which is a perfect way to spend our Sunday afternoon. Oh! Brandon went to the store and came back with yummy fixings for brunch: shrimp omelettes, biscuits and mimosas. I was so hungry I forgot to snap a pic of it.
viewed/overhead/said from the weekend
Franklin feigns horror
Weaponized nanotechnology
Dead critter count: 27
"Bless you bless you bless you shaddup!"
Candyflip half ecstasy, half acid
Redneck boyfriend what everybody had yet nobody wanted
Yokohama
Ralph Smith
Kw1t h8n license plate
ebayby how to get rid of it legally
Yellow cab 345-7711
68
Liberty station Liberty EVERYTHING
"Do you sell cigarettes?" "Not since the machine took a bullet in 2000."
4:53 bedtime
10:43 wake up
The Naomi Diaries in "W" you should shoot this
(live) feral cat count: 2.
MEtRoday: 
1060, 
3045, 3044, 4008, 
2018
Glad to have the workweek over, I took a little bike tour of the neighborhood. My first destination was my possible future apartment, where in the sitcom of life, I will play the older kooky downstairs neighbor. It is an English basement apartment in Kingman Park. From what I could view through the windows and door, it appears to get a lot of light and is at pretty much street level, having normal sized windows. Most basement apartments in this town are about 2/3 in the ground, so the windows are tiny and at ceiling level inside the apartment, and ankle level on the sidewalk. But it has hardwood floors, a normal-sized kitchen, and an odd-shaped bedroom (9x20) so that will give me the opportunity to section off a study/computer room of sorts. I'm excited about moving to a new apartment, although I'll probably have to sell my couch.
My second destination was Melba's, where she joined me on her bike and we traveled the newly-paved Anacostia Riverwalk Trail. It took us behind RFK Stadium, to Penn Ave, where it will eventually link up with the new baseball stadium and SW. Our third stop, unsurprisingly, was La Lomita. There I had my first public iPhone sighting, where the guy at the table next to us was showing photos using the "pinch".
MEtRoday: 5072,
6044,
6045,
3077,
1209, 5009
Liam Sullivan, the comedian whose characters include last summer's can't-live-without-watching-it-again Kelly, co-stars in a new TV show on VH1 titled "I Hate My 30s". The show also includes Liam's real-life friends Megahn Perry (Kelly's vampire friend Heather from Text Message Breakup) and Pam Cook (Kelly's mom). Kelly even has a cameo in episode five, betch.
From the press release:
"I Hate My 30's" is an irreverent comedy about the unique dilemmas that come from leaving your twenties behind and facing the realities and responsibilities of the next phase of life. Making a Living vs. Living the Dream; Settling Down vs. Hooking Up; Raising Kids vs. Raising Hell—such are the timeless conflicts for thirty-something's, and while the endless onslaught of pop psychology and hot technology is intended to make life easier, it's actually adding to the confusion. Think of it as a shot of old fashioned advice on the rocks of validation... with an irony chaser.
Each episode takes a widely identifiable cultural phenomenon and approaches it through the skewed (and occasionally ridiculous) perspective of our characters. The work place serves as a convenient spot for our gang to interact, but we spend just as much time exploring their extracurricular activities and private lives. Each episode will deal with and resolve a specific issue but certain character-driven plots will become through-lines for the entire season.
Dr. Rod, our unflappable guide, will introduce each episode and the specific issue to be tackled therein. While tonally different than the After School Specials of yesteryear, this show has a similar purpose: TV as a tool for living. The comedic tone comes from the absurd handling of relatable problems, matched with clever observation of the contemporary landscape. References to retro-storytelling will be minimal but maybe gratifying as occasional winks to the audience in the know.
As Dr. Rod would say, "I Hate My 30's is about growing up, growing in, and growing over your youth like a scab. It's about watching your best friend totally obliterate his best chance at happiness and then making the same mistake yourself. And above all it demonstrates that, while life does indeed suck balls, at least it only gets worse."
You may not learn much from "I Hate My 30's," but you're sure to laugh at the misfortune of your friends as they're devastated by the realization that the life they've imagined is but a faint and fading dream slowly escaping their reach as they sink deeper and deeper into the quicksand of real-life.
Tonight's premiere can be downloaded free from iTunes here.
Wednesday July 27 lie to me, i promise i'll believe
MEtRoday: 5132,
1136,
6054,
5074
Right there in the middle of my BlackBerry sync, my iMac decides it should become a Ouija board:
MEtRoday: none
I never watched this crap or this crap so I definitely won't be watching this crap.
I never watched this crap or this crap so I definitely won't be watching this ever again.
Sunday July 22 tammy faye baker messner dyes
MEtRoday: 3088
MEtRoday: none; Amtrak Carolinian 79: 82043
My niece Miss Sarah Jane celebrated her 3rd birthday today. So of course I had to be there. She had some of her li'l friends there, and they played in the pool, played pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey (which humorously ended up pin-the-tail-on-the-poster-of-the-donkey) and bean-bag toss. I was in charge of preparing the mini corndogs and taquitos, then my brother fired up the grill for hot dogs and burgers. I love the food at children's parties!
My presents: the book I'm a Big Sister, an interchangeable hairband set, and some squeezy-squirt bathtub toys. She also got a lot of other fun stuff: rainbow-colored Magna-Doodle, T-ball set, some cute clothes. My fave part though was when, after a long day, we were putting SJ to bed, and she picked me to read her a bedtime story. We chose Guess How Much I Love You, which is a great kid's book to read, and a great way to send them into dreamtime.
MEtRoday: 5052, 2036, 3097, 5114
Thirty-eight years ago, I was playing in west Texas
sand, attending Kiddie Korner daycare nursery school in El Paso. We
were at recess, playing out on the jungle gym, when Mrs. White called us all
over and pointed straight up into the cloudless sky. Squinting and shading
my eyes, I stared into the hot sky, not understanding what she was saying or
even why we were playing this game when the jungle gym was now unoccupied and
beckoning someone to climb to its top.
I realized many years later that on that day, our government
had broadcasting images from a Nevada movie studio the moon, and how
we had made it there in a tin can constructed from gold aluminum foil. They
also took a dune buggy with them, you know, just for kicks.
Thursday July 19 you know the drill
MEtRoday: Tuesday 5147, 1095, 3056, 6013, 2045;
Wednesday 5012, 2026, 3062, 5008;
Thursday 3259, 6057, 4065, 3270
Topics
Eiffel Tower
Tony Danza
Alaskan pipeline
Dirty Houdini with a raspberry twist
Dirty rodeo
The pirate
Hot Carl
Cleveland steamer
Rusty tambourine
MEtRoday: 2008, 4071, 3043, 3090, 1075, 5186
"May-juh!"
"I didn't know whether to pose or get arrested."
"I can't be seen to actually eat."
"May-juh!"
"How may-juh is that?"
"That's may-juh, loving that!"
"Look at these may-juh shoes, aren't these fabulous?"
"It's exhausting being fabulous."
"Someone has a blow-up doll that they can take home and do whatever they want
with it, as long as I get my dress back."
"These are quite sporty; these are my driving shoes."
"May-juh!"
"Who gives me the ball?"
"People want us in America. They want us to be here."
"The United States is just may-juh."
MEtRoday: none
While Pixar's Ratatouille doesn't look like it has the potential to be the monster hit that all its previous movies have been, I still want to see it on the big screen. So today I asked Goldy if she wanted to go and see it. Trying to keep our money in DC and also trying to avoid the rugbrats (hopefully all of them were to be at the Harry Potter release) we chose the 3:55 show in Chinatown.
Mistake.
The place is swarming full of people, with both the
ticket booth and the ticket machines having about 20 people in line in each
of them. Of course we're are arriving at the cinema at 3:58 for our 3:55 show.
By the time we make it up to the ticket machine, we are finding our show is
SOLD OUT. In a panic at the machine, we choose another movie that is starting
soon, and it is Short Circuit I mean Twister I mean Gumball
Rally I
mean Independence
Day I
mean Transformers. All
together now, Electric
Company-style: cr-, -ap, CRAP! Giddily high from the
pandemonium of people around is, we laugh and say WTF and go in anyway. $16
later we have a medium popcorn and a couple of medium sodas. Yes, you read
that correctly, $16 for popcorn and sodas on top of paying $11 each for a ticket
to this crapfest.
But it gets even better. It turns out we're are seeing the hearing-impaired Transformer. So in addition to having swirling, headache-inducing CGI to watch for the next two hours, we also get 350-point bright green Arial to partially block the screen.
Then, even on top of all of that, I miss the only part of the movie I would have thought interesting to watch: when the 1978 Camaro transforms into the 2008 Camaro. I missed that because I had to go and relieve myself of the 92-oz "medium" soda I had just consumed.
Here are some of the descriptions for sounds given:
— Indistinct chatter
— Electrical crackling
— Electrical screeching
— Clamoring
— Tranformer bellowing
— Electrical screeching
— Grunting
— Handle squeaks
— Man on TV talks indistinctly
— Agents grunt
— Speaking foreign language
— Overlapping yelling
— Crowd murmuring
— Speaking Cybertronian
— Upbeat music playing
— Metallic throbbing
— No audio
— Hydraulics hiss
— Thuds
— Glen sighs
— Frenzy chattering
— Megatron grunts
MEtRoday: 5052, 2036, 3097, 5114
I placed my 2nd order of Moo cards tonight. I went through 100 in 10 months. Hode up, wait a minute, that's like one every three days. Where did they all go?
Moo has expanded their picture-pulling options. Previously, they only accessed your flickr account. But now they can access a multitude of sources, including some random images they supply. Plus you can also upload your images directly to their server, therefore bypassing any other posting service. This is what I did this time, since I only opened my flickr account just to use for Moo. There's also more color options on the type-side of the cards: In addition to the original cyan, magenta or black, now they offer lavender, royal blue, kelly green, lime green, orange and red. I opted for the orange this time.
And they're launching stickers in a week!
UPDATE 071807: The Print Robot at Moo.com tells me that my cards have been printed and shipped via royal Mail First Class/Airmail, and that they should arrive within 5–7 working days. Cheers!
Thursday July 12 i want it now
MEtRoday: 5058,
5098,
3058, 2001
During lunch I went with some co-workers to the P-Citty
Apple Store to steal checkout the iPhones. I might add that this is
the 2nd trip I've made. This is a photo taken from the iPhone, click to see
the original before I applied the futurejunkie style guide. Or, as Mr.
Scott, who actually owns an iPhone, says, "clickie
make biggie."
Wednesday July 11 remembering flowers
MEtRoday: 3069, 2027, 3028, 1159
On the commute home tonight, I looked at my phone and realized it has been a month to the day that my Mother passed away. A lot has happened in the last 30 days, and it's a bit overwhelming at times. Like now. Three funeral services; the family pulling together in support that I'm still amazed about to this day but shouldn't really find surprising; my first of many solo trips to Arlington Cemetery; friends rallying behind me and showing their unfettered support, some of whom have also lost parents; the longest conversations with my Dad that I've ever had.
Trying to divert my attention, I notice that Lady Bird Johnson has passed away today. She was 94. When we lived in Killeen, Texas during the 70s I can remember the bluebonnets and beautiful wildflowers that were scattered all around. My Mother told me that Lady Bird was instrumental in distributing the Texas wildflowers along the Texas highways. I still think of this today whenever I see a strip of flowers by roadsides. The website for the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center is here.
Flowers that make me think of Mom: Flowering cacti from our home in El Paso, TX, Gladiolus from our house outside of Tacoma, WA (Ft. Lewis), Firewheels from our home in Killeen, TX (Ft. Hood), African violets from our house in Sterling, VA, Yellow daffodils and purple irises from their house in King George, VA.
MEtRoday: Monday
3074, 2068,
3107, 1164;
Tuesday 5166,
3200,
1063, 3096
I find this waiting for me in my mail box from the United States Department of Commerce, Economics and Statistics Administration, U.S. Census Bureau.
Dear Resident:
In a few days your household will receive a questionnaire in the mail for a
very important national survey, the American Community Survey. When the
questionnaire arrives, please fill it out and mail it back promptly. The
U.S. Census Bureau is conducting this survey and chose your address, not
you personally, as part of a randomly selected sample.
The American Community Survey collects information about various topics like education, housing, and jobs. Information from this survey is used by federal, state, local and tribal governments to meet the needs of communities across America. For example, community leaders use this information to decide where schools, highways, hospitals, and other services are needed. The survey also is used to develop programs to reduce traffic congestion, provide job training, and helps communities plan for the kinds of emergency situations that might affect you and your neighbors, such as floods and other natural disasters.
>yawn<
Unforch my response to this survey is required by law (Title 13, United States Code, Sections 141 and 193). Title 13, as changed by Title 18, imposes a penalty for not responding. They estimate this survey will take about 38 minutes to complete. That's some pretty accurate estimating for our very efficient Government, so this means it will actually take me about 2.5 hours to complete. Sounds like something to do on the Metro, but only after the Sudoku is completed. Natch.
I guess this is karma for ditching the 2000 Census. I was moving the last time this head-counting was taking place, and I received my Census form on the last day I had keys to my old apartment. I didn't have the 38 minutes it would take to fill it out, I had moving and unpacking to do, so I tossed it in the trash. And, of course, I never received one at the new address. We all know DC is 70% African-American and DC always votes Democratic so what was really the point? It's not like we have any say in anything that happens in our neighborhoods anyway; it's all legislated by Senators from Wyoming who really don't give a shit what happens in DC. They all live in the H8ST8, anyway. Do you think I could refuse to fill this out, demanding that I have representation in Congress first? Me neither.
Sample of important questions:
5) IN THE PAST 12 MONTHS, what were the actual sales of all agricultural products from this property?
23) LAST WEEK, did [head of household] do ANY work for either pay or profit?
27) How much is the regular monthly payment on all second or junior mortgages and all home equity loans on THIS property?
See how much fun this is? Because at The American Community Survey and futurejunkie, people are our most important resources, please answer question ONE of this questionnaire. This survey will take you about 3.8 seconds to complete:
MEtRoday: 5181, 3270
In Arlington Cemetery, you need to have a bike helmet in order to be issued a temporary biking permit. This is great how they wish to protect the safety of cyclists, but then why are there no sidewalks, forcing pedestrians to walk in the street? Like most things that are government run, it makes no sense. I do not have a bike helmet, and not wanting to walk to the eastern edge of the cemetery in 98° heat, a good 30-minute walk, I scoot on through with my bike anyway. I figured the only one who cared about issuing and checking for temporary bike passes was the woman issuing them, and I was correct.
I'm at Arlington today to put the first flowers on my mother's grave, a purple and lavendar bunch that I'm sure she would've liked. My mother's site is near the interment plot for some of the people that died on September 11 at the Pentagon, which is located right across the road, its rebuilt side peeking through and over the trees. I found Joe Ferguson's name on the memorial marker, but he is not buried there. I assume he is buried in Mississippi, next to his twin brother who died years ago, I believe when they were 18 or so.
This is a panoramic view from my where my mother is laid to rest:
MEtRoday: none
Ten years ago, I was staying home from work one day, sick or otherwise, and watching the Rosie O'Donnell Show. This cute British "cocktail pop singer" named Jai came on and sang his song, which I thoroughly enjoyed, and charmed Rosie enough so that she said as they were fading to commercial, "You're gonna be a big star in America."
Rosie's predication didn't come true, but a couple of weeks later I was at Henry's on a Thursday, sitting at the bar having dinner and a cocktail or two. I was flipping through the MW and I spotted an advert for Jai's DC concert, which was at the now-defunct Metro Cafe on the once-dirty-but-now-yuppie-condo-laden 14th St, NW. The show started in 30 minutes.
I settled up my bill and shot across town (this was when I still had a car) to catch the show. It was a fantastic performance, with all types of people being drawn in: young starry-eyed girls, old gay male couples, hipsters to catch the jazziness. I ran into my friend, Jamie Davis, who exclaimed, "I knew you would be here!" I bought the CD after the show (the only material I knew was the song performed on Rosie) and got Jai to sign it (I brought my own Sharpie). He was very nice and appreciative and had a good time during the show and hanging with fans afterwards.
Unfortunately nothing became of Jai's career. No follow-up album, no videos, no news, nothing. Jai's album, Heaven, is a fantastic set with "aching falsettos", and I remember often putting it on as I was laying down to bed, to ease me into sleep. It wasn't really the style of music that I usually listened to at the time (Underworld, Fluke, Future Sound of London) but it worked together, crooning in his trim Sinatra suit with skinny tie and cigarette.
Previous Googling proved fruitless, but today I struck gold. Jai is now recording under his full name, Jason Rowe. After a few years in New York and then settling back in the UK for European tours he has since moved to Berlin, songwriting and putting out a new album this past spring.
Jason's website is here and downloads of his new album can be found here. The pop song from 1997 is available here for the next seven days. Below are before/after, 1997/2007, Jai/Jason photos.
MEtRoday: 5019, 3217, 3075, 5111
You know how when you get a service established, say something that costs a fixed amount per month, like internet or cable? And years goes by you're still paying the same price although you could be getting the same service from someone else for one-third the cost? Well I was kind of getting to that point with my host provider, MacConnect, who has been hosting fuju since its inception, back in OH-OH. They weren't doing anything wrong, uptime was pretty good, and their customer service has been pretty responsive. This was tested about this time last year while trying to upload at Ziska's in Munich, only to find that I had reached my 10 MB limit. They upped me to 20 MB (plus I started saving my images files at a lower compression resulting in smaller file size) and I was on my way.
This past week I hit the limit again, so roughly hosting and personally managing futurejunkie (instead of using Blogger or LiveJournal) is costing me about 10 MB a year. So I got in touch with tech support, and Drew responded, I had heard from him before, to see what we can do about this. He informs me that they are going to upgrade me to a whopping 350 MB for the same $20 a month because I have been such a long-time customer. He sends this email "No problem at all. Glad to help. We do appreciate your years of patronage and want to be sure that things are smooth for you here. Don't hesitate to get in touch if you need anything else." How nice is that?! So at the speed I'm going I have another 33 years until I'm maxing out my storage space again; that's 2040. Pretty darn sweet, if you ask me.
Thursday July 05 a day late for the red, white & blue
MEtRoday: 5021, 5131, 3130, 5011
Spotted on Johnny Is a Man, I'll give you the same advice he gave his readers: "Make sure you at least give the queen a chance to make her über-dramatic entrance at :25 seconds in before you close it." But watch the whole thing; there's more where that came from.
UPDATE: Miss Lady Bunny says that Tandi Iman Andrews is no longer with us. She was a Texan girl, hailing from San Antonio. Here's another clip, complete with Wonder Woman's Invisible Plane:
MEtRoday: 1243, 2038, 3255, 5142, 
1290, 2005
MEtRoday: none
I wake up this morning at an unknown time, the lights are off, the phone alarm is set but the phone is put into sleep mode until the alarm hits, so I lay there not knowing what time it is. The only thing I know is that I have to be awake and get up at 7:00, to have time to get ready and get dressed and make it to the funeral home by 9:00. I have no idea what time it is. I lay there for awhile and then decide to check my iPod to see what time it is. It's 3:14.
Okay, I can lay here for a while knowing that the alarm isn't going to alert me into action. I think of what the day is going to entail: funeral home employees, formalities, stark limousines, endless rows of white marble headstones, words, burial. I try to sleep. Apparently I do fall asleep because when I next check the time it's after 5:00. There are no sounds in the house so I don't get up, I look at the window again, knowing that the morning's light will be an indication of when I need to get up.
Next I'm checking time again and it's 6:16, I can lay there and doze but not really sleeping. The next 44 minutes are going to be the worst, because then I know everything will be set in motion. It's 6:43 and then 6:49 and then 6:52 and then 6:56 and then 7:01 and it's time to move. I'm up and getting coffee that Dad has already made, I can hear him in the shower. I get ready and as I'm getting dressed, trying to wake Butch up, reclaiming the role my Mother had all those days trying to drag me out of bed on time for school. We meet the area's family at the funeral home; the Winchester Bunch will be meeting us in Arlington.
Unrevealing from information on their website, there apparently is a holding room for us at Arlington National Cemetery. Lots of family is there, some friends of mine are there too, and Chaplain LTC William O. Barefield (Senior Army Chaplain) informs us that for most spousal burials (meaning those that are not military) there is an attendance of about 12. As my father asked me to do a headcount at the gravesite, I counted around 60. This demonstrates that my Mom was loved and her life was far-reaching, as I share with my Father during our nearly two-hour phone conversaton later this evening (1:47:41). This is when I really realize she's gone, as Dad and I share many tears over the phone.
My Mother is buried in Section 64, gravesite 2536.
MEtRoday: none
Tomorrow is the 3rd and final funeral service for my Mother, this being her interment at Arlington National Cemetery. I'm taking the train down tonight so that I could ride up with the family tomorrow morning; my father has arranged for two limousines so we can follow the hearse during the funeral procession, the entire way to Arlington.
I was unaware that civilians could be buried at Arlington, but spouses of military can, and since my Father is a 20-year-veteran my Mother will be laid to rest there. Interestingly, my parents will be laid head-to-head instead of the traditional side-by-side, therefore sharing the same headstone, one listed on each side. This procedure maintains their continual grid of headstones that we're all familiar with. No gaps allowed in the grid.
Apparently, this means that I will be buried alone. I guess this only happens to those that die young, or unmarried without a dedicated loved one. I never thought of being buried beside my parents, but I assumed it was always a possibility. I guess not now, and this is why we are sent out to find our own path in life. Actually, this really doesn't matter, because I am choosing cremation. And maybe if The Twins™ ashes haven't been scattered yet, then I think the three of us should all be mixed together and placed somewhere. And then a big ole party should ensue.
Meanwhile, on the train, in the seat in front of me, is a Gap-clad no-logo-on-navy-ballcap-wearing male who is buddying up a little too closely to his teenage Asian male companion. I don't want to know their story. He is also reading an Ann Coulter book.
Across the aisle from me is a Posh Spice fashion clone, who is wearing the random sock with random flip flop combo pictured below. I have no problem with being a little kooky and wearing mismatched socks and/or shoes as an artistic statement, but socks with flips? No. She departs the train at Quantico, so I assume she'll be having hot Marine sex in about 17 minutes. The socks and the flip flops will be thrown in a corner and the traveling fashion disaster will have never existed.
