Live And Learn
Hello World,
Greetings, sports fans! For those of us around here who are disenchanted with winter, and our name is legion, there's really nothing like watching young men play baseball in warm climates to restore your faith in this cold, cruel world. I can tell you that every year, Spring Training is a welcome sight, and I don't know how we would survive the winter without it. Of course, in typical fashion for the way things go nowadays, we're also having a local cable-TV and network imbroglio which is blacking out games all over the place, so not everyone is getting the therapeutic benefits of seeing the Mets and other teams tossing around the ol' horsehide, as it were. I said to Bill that they should send the NHL negotiators over to settle it, they seem to have a real knack for sports dispute mediation.
This turned into another one of those weeks that managed to have not one, but two more snowstorms in it, and I don't have to tell anyone how that sort of stuff gets really old, really quickly. I have already complained about how it has set back my wood chopping for camping, although I was able to saw some firewood last week anyway, from found logs that I had left in the garage, and which had remained dry enough to cut. So it was possible to make a little bit of progress on my wood chopping in spite of the elements. But there's nothing I hate like shoveling snow first thing in the morning, then having to clean off the car, and still go to work. Personally, I think shoveling steps and scraping windshields is already enough work for one day, without having to go to work besides. I can go for one or the other, but not both. And thank you not very much.
My favorite weather-related story from the week was the afternoon drive-time radio personality on Q104.3, complaining about people over-reacting because of the forecast. He said, "It's not like we're being invaded by flying monkeys from Saturn or anything. It's just snow. It snows all the time here, it's nothing to get excited about. It'll be about six inches. If you live some place where it snows more, it'll be more. Please stay calm. And above all, please don't everybody run to the supermarket. Ever notice how whenever it snows, everyone has to line up at the store for bread, milk and eggs? They're like, 'We have to make French Toast! After all, it's snowing'!" I had to laugh.
Yesterday at work, someone asked me what was the date, and I said it was the 9th. A co-worker corrected me and said it was actually the 10th, or as he referred to it, "a third of the month is gone already." I can't say I've ever thought about months in terms of thirds before, but there's no arguing with his math skills. There was a general consensus that the year seems to be charging right along in a headlong fashion, and nobody seemed to care for it much either. Meanwhile, in spite of the frigid temperatures outside, and occasionally inside as well (I knew I should have replaced that darned bird bath heater!) our house has been having a visitation of what I refer to as "winter flies." These are basically your standard-issue sort of housefly that you see all the time in the summer, but which I don't expect to see much of in January, but here they are. They seem kind of dazed and confused, and go sputtering around aimlessly in a haphazard manner around the house. Bill found one in the refrigerator the other day, so you know these are not the intellectual elite of the fly kingdom. On the other hand, we've all seen enough movies to know that smart insects are not a good thing either, and that's putting it mildly.
Last week, as the greeting card companies so elegantly put it, Bill and I celebrated 22 years of wedded bliss, which of course would be impossible, except for the fact that I was a child bride. That's my story, anyway, and I'm sticking with it. We started the day with presents, and to my way of thinking, there's nothing better than that. We found ourselves with new clothes, music CDs and DVDs, hand-made earrings and books. I also got a neat folding shovel to keep in the car for any digging-related emergencies that might crop up along the way. The next day, we went out to have dinner at a small Italian restaurant nearby that we had never tried before. I thought the food was good, but our meal suffered from that type of smothering service that you get when a place is empty, which as over-priced as it was, I'm not surprised. But it had the advantage of novelty on its side, so at least we did something different for our special day. Besides which, it didn't even snow, and last week, that was not only a special day, but a rarity as well.
And what's new in the wonderful world of higher education, you may be wondering? Luckily, I happen to have my handy guide to summer courses at NYU, so I am prepared to answer that inquiry. Actually, they take pains to point out that this is NYU's School of Continuing and Professional Studies, not to be confused with regular NYU, so people don't think they've gone completely off the deep end. After all, you don't want to scare off the alumni of the old Alma Mater from donating money and having buildings named after themselves. Anyway, apparently at NYUSCPS, or "nyooskips," you can sign up and actually get credit for taking such courses as "Video Game Creation," "Catering for Meetings and Events," "Graphic Design Urban Retreats," "Glamorous Designers of the 20th Century," "Improvisation Workshop," and my personal favorite, "Marketing and Sales Weapons in Technology Brand Battles." Well, I have to say that things have certainly changed in education since my day, when we were learning to make fire and chase after dinosaurs with stone tools. I can't even understand what they mean by "technology brand battles," so I certainly wouldn't know where to begin to develop any weapons for it. Any of those technology brand battles turn up in my bailiwick, and I'm a goner, there's just no way around it. I'd sign up for the course, but you know what they always say about trying to teach an old dog new tricks. (For the record, it wastes your time and irritates the pig. Or maybe that's a different aphorism, but you get the idea anyway.) Alas, how times have changed, and not always for the better, I can tell you that. Unfortunately, I have to cut this short, because it's snowing and I have to go make French Toast.
Greetings, sports fans! For those of us around here who are disenchanted with winter, and our name is legion, there's really nothing like watching young men play baseball in warm climates to restore your faith in this cold, cruel world. I can tell you that every year, Spring Training is a welcome sight, and I don't know how we would survive the winter without it. Of course, in typical fashion for the way things go nowadays, we're also having a local cable-TV and network imbroglio which is blacking out games all over the place, so not everyone is getting the therapeutic benefits of seeing the Mets and other teams tossing around the ol' horsehide, as it were. I said to Bill that they should send the NHL negotiators over to settle it, they seem to have a real knack for sports dispute mediation.
This turned into another one of those weeks that managed to have not one, but two more snowstorms in it, and I don't have to tell anyone how that sort of stuff gets really old, really quickly. I have already complained about how it has set back my wood chopping for camping, although I was able to saw some firewood last week anyway, from found logs that I had left in the garage, and which had remained dry enough to cut. So it was possible to make a little bit of progress on my wood chopping in spite of the elements. But there's nothing I hate like shoveling snow first thing in the morning, then having to clean off the car, and still go to work. Personally, I think shoveling steps and scraping windshields is already enough work for one day, without having to go to work besides. I can go for one or the other, but not both. And thank you not very much.
My favorite weather-related story from the week was the afternoon drive-time radio personality on Q104.3, complaining about people over-reacting because of the forecast. He said, "It's not like we're being invaded by flying monkeys from Saturn or anything. It's just snow. It snows all the time here, it's nothing to get excited about. It'll be about six inches. If you live some place where it snows more, it'll be more. Please stay calm. And above all, please don't everybody run to the supermarket. Ever notice how whenever it snows, everyone has to line up at the store for bread, milk and eggs? They're like, 'We have to make French Toast! After all, it's snowing'!" I had to laugh.
Yesterday at work, someone asked me what was the date, and I said it was the 9th. A co-worker corrected me and said it was actually the 10th, or as he referred to it, "a third of the month is gone already." I can't say I've ever thought about months in terms of thirds before, but there's no arguing with his math skills. There was a general consensus that the year seems to be charging right along in a headlong fashion, and nobody seemed to care for it much either. Meanwhile, in spite of the frigid temperatures outside, and occasionally inside as well (I knew I should have replaced that darned bird bath heater!) our house has been having a visitation of what I refer to as "winter flies." These are basically your standard-issue sort of housefly that you see all the time in the summer, but which I don't expect to see much of in January, but here they are. They seem kind of dazed and confused, and go sputtering around aimlessly in a haphazard manner around the house. Bill found one in the refrigerator the other day, so you know these are not the intellectual elite of the fly kingdom. On the other hand, we've all seen enough movies to know that smart insects are not a good thing either, and that's putting it mildly.
Last week, as the greeting card companies so elegantly put it, Bill and I celebrated 22 years of wedded bliss, which of course would be impossible, except for the fact that I was a child bride. That's my story, anyway, and I'm sticking with it. We started the day with presents, and to my way of thinking, there's nothing better than that. We found ourselves with new clothes, music CDs and DVDs, hand-made earrings and books. I also got a neat folding shovel to keep in the car for any digging-related emergencies that might crop up along the way. The next day, we went out to have dinner at a small Italian restaurant nearby that we had never tried before. I thought the food was good, but our meal suffered from that type of smothering service that you get when a place is empty, which as over-priced as it was, I'm not surprised. But it had the advantage of novelty on its side, so at least we did something different for our special day. Besides which, it didn't even snow, and last week, that was not only a special day, but a rarity as well.
And what's new in the wonderful world of higher education, you may be wondering? Luckily, I happen to have my handy guide to summer courses at NYU, so I am prepared to answer that inquiry. Actually, they take pains to point out that this is NYU's School of Continuing and Professional Studies, not to be confused with regular NYU, so people don't think they've gone completely off the deep end. After all, you don't want to scare off the alumni of the old Alma Mater from donating money and having buildings named after themselves. Anyway, apparently at NYUSCPS, or "nyooskips," you can sign up and actually get credit for taking such courses as "Video Game Creation," "Catering for Meetings and Events," "Graphic Design Urban Retreats," "Glamorous Designers of the 20th Century," "Improvisation Workshop," and my personal favorite, "Marketing and Sales Weapons in Technology Brand Battles." Well, I have to say that things have certainly changed in education since my day, when we were learning to make fire and chase after dinosaurs with stone tools. I can't even understand what they mean by "technology brand battles," so I certainly wouldn't know where to begin to develop any weapons for it. Any of those technology brand battles turn up in my bailiwick, and I'm a goner, there's just no way around it. I'd sign up for the course, but you know what they always say about trying to teach an old dog new tricks. (For the record, it wastes your time and irritates the pig. Or maybe that's a different aphorism, but you get the idea anyway.) Alas, how times have changed, and not always for the better, I can tell you that. Unfortunately, I have to cut this short, because it's snowing and I have to go make French Toast.
posted by El Tango Fandango @ 7:39 PM
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