Thanksgiving always bears mentioning I suppose.
I've heard so many different accounts of what people did on Thanksgiving, how much they did or did not enjoy it, the gammut of emotional impact it had. Holidays don't always affect people in the way you expect.
Especially upon reading about other people's holidays, it hits me how much I have to appreciate about mine. For starters, it's huge. That's not an inherently good thing, but I'll tell you why it's huge. It's not because we've all had a bunch of kids or made any effort to carry on the family name in spite of the fact that we're notorious for birthing slews of girls. It's because we never leave a man behind. Honestly, I still have cousins that I count among my best friends. Some of them live in other states and they all have boyfriends (or husbands) and jobs and school and completely separate lives. And we all come together anyway, sometimes for family gatherings, sometimes for the hell of it, because not only do we all love each other, we pretty much all like each other. I used to think that that's just how families worked. The more I learn about how the 21st Century family is supposed to function, the more I thank God for mine.
Don't get me wrong. Thanksgiving was exhausting. There were many moments I wanted to be somewhere else. There were people I rolled my eyes at when they said something that was so very much like something they would say. But when I see groups of people all over the place enjoying each others' company just as they would if they weren't required to be there, it takes me down a peg. Who am I to wish for something any better than this?
I guess that's what well-meaning people mean when they try to cheer you up by saying something stupid like, "Count your blessings." Next time one of my aunts pisses me off, I'm going to try to remember what I said here.
11.28.2005
11.21.2005
The Weekly
Because, maybe I should just call it what it is, right? Then, if I blog more than once a week, it's like this nice surprise. Like, ice cream. Like, cherries. As opposed to the crushing disappointment of coming here daily and seeing nothing new and wondering, "Will she ever come back? Is she dead? SHANE!"
Okay, maybe not crushing disappointment. After all, the rule of thumb is that nobody really cares about what happened to you today except you. However, if you're still reading this self-indulgent tripe, you must care a little bit...which makes you kinda weird.
But enough about you. Guess what I did last week?
First of all, I think I got stopped at that same roadblock that Jaimie did. Was it Sutton Bridge Road on Saturday night? My cop was nice and didn't ask me to step out of the vehicle, like that last time. Of course, this time I'd remembered to put my proof of insurance in my visor, instead of in the same glove box where I keep my .44. That always helps.
But I have another story for you today, an uplifting tale of hope and the domination of the human spirit over the evils of college radio.
You see, I was driving home from a very long day at work a couple of weeks ago. It was approaching 9 p.m. and I was in decent spirits, happy to be headed home. I didn't realize the emotional toll the day had taken on me. I didn't realize how much I needed Warren Haynes at that moment. I had the radio turned to the JSU college station, because I listen to NPR in the mornings, and sometimes they play cool songs in the evening, depending on the DJ. So I'm listening to the radio and this song opens on this funky organ solo. It's slow, it's long, it's patient, it's...familiar. Yes, I have heard this song many times before...what is it?
Then it comes to me. This is Soulshine. It's better than sunshine. It's better than moonshine. It's damn sure better than rain. And it's on the radio. I had no idea how much I needed to hear this song right now. The molasses organ crept up on the end of its run and it was almost time for that bottomless voice to tell me what to do when I can't find the light to guide me through a cloudy day. Then, it just. Stopped. Dead air. A pre-recorded announcer told me what radio station I was listening to, and another song came on, some inane garage band ear-bleeder that it's not safe to listen to while driving. Has that ever happened to you? It's happened to me before, but not like this. I knew I no longer had the number to JSU's radio station programmed into my cellphone, but I checked anyway. DJ, whoever you are, thank whatever god your black pagan heart prays to that my old cellphone died a year ago and that I was too lazy to transfer all the saved numbers over. Because that night, you awakened the slumbering wrath of the Amazon Diva within, and you would've wished for death before the end.
And yes, I have that song on CD. I didn't even try to listen to it when I got home. It wouldn't have been the same.
Now for the happy ending (shut up, Nathan). This past week, out of the blue, Jaimie invites me to a Gov't Mule concert at the Alabama Theatre. She had a last-minute dropout. So we went, and Warren sang that song to me. Just me. It was better than a CD. Better than radio. Damn sure better than rain.
Okay, maybe not crushing disappointment. After all, the rule of thumb is that nobody really cares about what happened to you today except you. However, if you're still reading this self-indulgent tripe, you must care a little bit...which makes you kinda weird.
But enough about you. Guess what I did last week?
First of all, I think I got stopped at that same roadblock that Jaimie did. Was it Sutton Bridge Road on Saturday night? My cop was nice and didn't ask me to step out of the vehicle, like that last time. Of course, this time I'd remembered to put my proof of insurance in my visor, instead of in the same glove box where I keep my .44. That always helps.
But I have another story for you today, an uplifting tale of hope and the domination of the human spirit over the evils of college radio.
You see, I was driving home from a very long day at work a couple of weeks ago. It was approaching 9 p.m. and I was in decent spirits, happy to be headed home. I didn't realize the emotional toll the day had taken on me. I didn't realize how much I needed Warren Haynes at that moment. I had the radio turned to the JSU college station, because I listen to NPR in the mornings, and sometimes they play cool songs in the evening, depending on the DJ. So I'm listening to the radio and this song opens on this funky organ solo. It's slow, it's long, it's patient, it's...familiar. Yes, I have heard this song many times before...what is it?
Then it comes to me. This is Soulshine. It's better than sunshine. It's better than moonshine. It's damn sure better than rain. And it's on the radio. I had no idea how much I needed to hear this song right now. The molasses organ crept up on the end of its run and it was almost time for that bottomless voice to tell me what to do when I can't find the light to guide me through a cloudy day. Then, it just. Stopped. Dead air. A pre-recorded announcer told me what radio station I was listening to, and another song came on, some inane garage band ear-bleeder that it's not safe to listen to while driving. Has that ever happened to you? It's happened to me before, but not like this. I knew I no longer had the number to JSU's radio station programmed into my cellphone, but I checked anyway. DJ, whoever you are, thank whatever god your black pagan heart prays to that my old cellphone died a year ago and that I was too lazy to transfer all the saved numbers over. Because that night, you awakened the slumbering wrath of the Amazon Diva within, and you would've wished for death before the end.
And yes, I have that song on CD. I didn't even try to listen to it when I got home. It wouldn't have been the same.
Now for the happy ending (shut up, Nathan). This past week, out of the blue, Jaimie invites me to a Gov't Mule concert at the Alabama Theatre. She had a last-minute dropout. So we went, and Warren sang that song to me. Just me. It was better than a CD. Better than radio. Damn sure better than rain.
11.14.2005
Movie Sign
If you missed the TV movie event of the millenium, it's gone forever. Well, until next weekend probably.
Kris and Laura and Jimmy and Jaimie came over last night to watch Part II of Category 7: The End of the World over beer and Chinese. We laughed at it and had fun times, so thanks for that, CBS. But I have a question. Has there been a sudden upchuck, er, upsurge of silly not-so-small-budget TV movies in the last couple years or am I just now noticing? And also, not to spoil the movie for you or anything, but the world totally didn't end. Yeah, that spoiled it for you, didn't it? Good. I'll only charge you $50 for each hour of your life I just saved you.
I'm wondering if CBS, Sci-Fi, and other perpetrators of the TV movie phenomenon could just take whatever money they had set aside for that next blockbuster and give it to, um, the poor, or something. I mean, it won't turn a profit, but it'll be tax-deductible. And all you rich execs will feel warm fuzzy sensations.
Also, was anybody else horrified by that last scene with Dennis Quaid and Shannon Doherty?
Kris and Laura and Jimmy and Jaimie came over last night to watch Part II of Category 7: The End of the World over beer and Chinese. We laughed at it and had fun times, so thanks for that, CBS. But I have a question. Has there been a sudden upchuck, er, upsurge of silly not-so-small-budget TV movies in the last couple years or am I just now noticing? And also, not to spoil the movie for you or anything, but the world totally didn't end. Yeah, that spoiled it for you, didn't it? Good. I'll only charge you $50 for each hour of your life I just saved you.
I'm wondering if CBS, Sci-Fi, and other perpetrators of the TV movie phenomenon could just take whatever money they had set aside for that next blockbuster and give it to, um, the poor, or something. I mean, it won't turn a profit, but it'll be tax-deductible. And all you rich execs will feel warm fuzzy sensations.
Also, was anybody else horrified by that last scene with Dennis Quaid and Shannon Doherty?
11.07.2005
Schoolhouse Suck
Did I mention a while back about how I'm taking classes in marketing? How I'm taking five courses, only two of which actually meet? How they're in the same room, being taught by the same guy? Did I mention having doubts about the quality of these classes?
Over the time I've spent in class, I have virtually eliminated these doubts. I no longer question whether or not I am wasting my time. I know I am.
Let me take you through these "classes". The first one is called Human Relations. Now remember, these are business classes. However, our "teacher" decided to take a broader view of human relations and dispose of the notion that people might actually be taking these classes in order to learn something about business. He's spent the whole time (so far) showing tapes and holding classroom discussions about personal relationships, focused mainly on marriage and parenting. Now, I'm sure that he finds this all very fascinating and frankly, so do I. I love delving; it's one of my absolute favorite things to do. Did I say I didn't enjoy the class? No. I said it was a waste of time. And yes, the knowledge of that fact does tend to cut down on the enjoyment factor. I pay my therapist by the hour to talk with me about relationships. I pay the school by the hour to tell me something I don't know.
Second "class": Consumer Behavior. At least that title's a little more clear. A little less wiggle room, y'know? This has to have something to do with consumers consuming things. Ergo, business. We're getting warmer. Thing is, our business "teacher" doesn't really seem terribly interested in business, so he shows us a bunch of video tapes that profile various successful businesses and what they do that's so great. Do I have a problem with this? Only one. I could've bought that tape series for about $200 less than it costs to take this "class".
Third "class": Physical Supply and Distribution Management. I like that title. Good strong title. Very specific. It's also the name of our textbook, which costs $100 retail at the campus bookstore and is the only thing I would've needed to do absolutely everything which is required for successful completion of the coursework. This class does not meet. We basically pick five random chapters out of the textbook, read them, and answer the questions at the end. I'm really not kidding.
The fourth and fifth "classes" are so similar they're really not worth mentioning separately. One is an independent study and the other is an internship. For the independent study, I have to work somewhere and write a 3-page paper about what I learned. For the internship, I have to work somewhere and write a 3-page paper about what I learned.
Do you guys have any idea how much it costs to go to school? I already put in my four years, okay? I'm doing this to GAIN KNOWLEDGE. What a motherfucking concept.
I recount all this because this week, it came to a head. Last time "class" met, our "instructor" handed out schedules for what would be available next semester. Would you believe that we'll have five classes, three of which will actually meet, all in the same room, all with the same instructor, who incidentally is the same "instructor" I have this semester. Needless to say, that will not be happening. Business for Dummies, here I come.
Over the time I've spent in class, I have virtually eliminated these doubts. I no longer question whether or not I am wasting my time. I know I am.
Let me take you through these "classes". The first one is called Human Relations. Now remember, these are business classes. However, our "teacher" decided to take a broader view of human relations and dispose of the notion that people might actually be taking these classes in order to learn something about business. He's spent the whole time (so far) showing tapes and holding classroom discussions about personal relationships, focused mainly on marriage and parenting. Now, I'm sure that he finds this all very fascinating and frankly, so do I. I love delving; it's one of my absolute favorite things to do. Did I say I didn't enjoy the class? No. I said it was a waste of time. And yes, the knowledge of that fact does tend to cut down on the enjoyment factor. I pay my therapist by the hour to talk with me about relationships. I pay the school by the hour to tell me something I don't know.
Second "class": Consumer Behavior. At least that title's a little more clear. A little less wiggle room, y'know? This has to have something to do with consumers consuming things. Ergo, business. We're getting warmer. Thing is, our business "teacher" doesn't really seem terribly interested in business, so he shows us a bunch of video tapes that profile various successful businesses and what they do that's so great. Do I have a problem with this? Only one. I could've bought that tape series for about $200 less than it costs to take this "class".
Third "class": Physical Supply and Distribution Management. I like that title. Good strong title. Very specific. It's also the name of our textbook, which costs $100 retail at the campus bookstore and is the only thing I would've needed to do absolutely everything which is required for successful completion of the coursework. This class does not meet. We basically pick five random chapters out of the textbook, read them, and answer the questions at the end. I'm really not kidding.
The fourth and fifth "classes" are so similar they're really not worth mentioning separately. One is an independent study and the other is an internship. For the independent study, I have to work somewhere and write a 3-page paper about what I learned. For the internship, I have to work somewhere and write a 3-page paper about what I learned.
Do you guys have any idea how much it costs to go to school? I already put in my four years, okay? I'm doing this to GAIN KNOWLEDGE. What a motherfucking concept.
I recount all this because this week, it came to a head. Last time "class" met, our "instructor" handed out schedules for what would be available next semester. Would you believe that we'll have five classes, three of which will actually meet, all in the same room, all with the same instructor, who incidentally is the same "instructor" I have this semester. Needless to say, that will not be happening. Business for Dummies, here I come.
11.01.2005
Officer Doof
Is it illegal to direct a display of road rage toward an agent of the law?
This morning on my way to class, I was in a left turn lane behind a SherrifMobile. We got a turn signal and the guy just sat there. I couldn't tell if he was on the phone or eating breakfast or whatever because his windows were tinted darker than civilian windows are allowed to be tinted. So I started to creep up on him but I was hesitant. What do you do when a law dog is being an idiot driver? I realized I've never confronted that situation before. Usually what I'll do is creep up, just so the person in front of me will register the motion and snap out of it. That's my version of a polite reminder. Then if that doesn't work, I'll flash my lights or honk my horn as a last resort. I hate honking at people in the morning because I know it'll put them in a bad mood. And I don't want that. I just want them to get out of my way.
None of those tactics, however, seemed appropriate in light of the fact that this particular idiot driver could strip search me if he felt so inclined. I decided to go ahead with the creeping but it did no good whatsoever. He sat through the whole damn turn signal. At this point, I was wondering if he was doing something "official", something that simple minds like mine wouldn't understand. But when the next signal rolled around, he turned with the easy confidence of a man who had no clue he'd been blocking traffic for the last ten minutes.
He turned into the grocery store and I glared at him as I passed. Take that!
This morning on my way to class, I was in a left turn lane behind a SherrifMobile. We got a turn signal and the guy just sat there. I couldn't tell if he was on the phone or eating breakfast or whatever because his windows were tinted darker than civilian windows are allowed to be tinted. So I started to creep up on him but I was hesitant. What do you do when a law dog is being an idiot driver? I realized I've never confronted that situation before. Usually what I'll do is creep up, just so the person in front of me will register the motion and snap out of it. That's my version of a polite reminder. Then if that doesn't work, I'll flash my lights or honk my horn as a last resort. I hate honking at people in the morning because I know it'll put them in a bad mood. And I don't want that. I just want them to get out of my way.
None of those tactics, however, seemed appropriate in light of the fact that this particular idiot driver could strip search me if he felt so inclined. I decided to go ahead with the creeping but it did no good whatsoever. He sat through the whole damn turn signal. At this point, I was wondering if he was doing something "official", something that simple minds like mine wouldn't understand. But when the next signal rolled around, he turned with the easy confidence of a man who had no clue he'd been blocking traffic for the last ten minutes.
He turned into the grocery store and I glared at him as I passed. Take that!
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