Good Reason

I've been gone for a while, yes, but my Very Good Reason is that my parents were in town for a week! I was far too busy chillin' on the couch watching the olympics and shopping in wondrous new places to sit down and write anything. So here I am, playing catchup like the procrastinator I am.

We did watch a lot of the olympics--who didn't? (be honest--you watched some of it!) Ice dancing mostly, with a few Giant Slalom and Super G events tossed in. Some bobsledding, Snowboard Cross...it just made me miss winter that much more. And, by the way, it wasn't even super nice for the week my folks were here. It was barely 70 degrees most days; we had to wear long sleeves and/or JACKETS! Of course for them that was just fine; when they left home it was about 20 degrees and snowing/icing. I guess it's all relative.

Anyway, aside from Olympic marathons, we did our fair share of endurance shopping. Found some great bargains in some shops and paid more than is reasonable for .salsa at other shops. I got to see a lot of stuff that I've never even seen, even though it's right down street from where I work. Hopefully it was entertaining for the 'rents as well.

On of the "things" we did was go to Fountain Hills for the Great Fair--an arts and crafts fair of epic proportions. Fountain Hills is a hoity toity commununity just east of Phoenix, and I only knew where it was because the McDowell mt. Park has its main trail head there. I'd heard tails of a giant fountain downtown, and I imagined something like the fountains I'd seen in Kansas City--big ornate productions with more spouts and statues than height. However, people claimed to be able to see this fountain from various points on the bike trail (which is several several miles away), and I even overheard folks talking about seeing it from the air as they flew into Phoenix. Hmmm...So we pulled into the downtown area and come across this huge lake (my dad scoffed at it being referred to as a lake--remember that he lives by one that covers 25,000 square acres--but he forgets we're in the desert here, and a puddle of water might be considered a pond if it lasts more than a week). This lake was, oddly, bordered by several Saguaro cacti. It was also home to a wierdly retro-mod orifice of sorts:

I'm clever enough to have understood that this must be the fountain everyone was talking about, but where was the water? I was disappointed that we wouldn't be able to see it, but whatever. It's just a fountain, right? A while later someone looked up and Lo! WATER! I'm not sure of the validity of the statement, but we heard someone say that it's about 300 feet tall. Who says the desert is dry!?

Best Reason to Watch TV....

The commercials:

I Like To Pinch

Check out Crab. Hi-Larious!

Beware of Strange (non-mechanic) Men in Red Bathrobes! And other strange tales...

So tonight at work a woman approached me as I attempted to clean up a mess of Budaberg Ginger Beer. It was a sticky, treacherous place to be, and why she chose to talk to me instead of one of the numerous other employees will forever remain a mystery. Her car had died, and did I, or anyone there have a set of jumper cables? If you know me, you know I am a sucker and a softie to boot, so you will nod your head when I say that although I didn't have jumper cables myself, I took it upon myself to find her some. I asked three other people until I found a set, and then somehow finagled myself into giving her the jump. Or attempting to.

I got my car situated and we hooked up the cables and....not much happened. She got some dashlights and little else. We thought maybe we'd just give it a few moments to juice up, and as we stood there chatting, up walks Red Terrycloth Bathrobe man. In the middle of our parking lot (this is a huge, very public lot, mind you--we're basically in an outdoor mall) is walking a middle-aged man, wearing nothing but the aforementioned bathrobe and some flip-flops. I kid you not. He approached us saying "I'm no mechanic, but I trained in diesel school...." Wait, what? So diesel engines aren't considered mechanical? But I digress. He proceeds then to tell us that I shouldn't have my car on to give her a jump, and that if he only had a pen light he could open up either of our batteries to look inside and tell us whether they are any good. Now it may be that I'm mistaken, and correct me if I am, but didn't they stop making the sort of battery that requires water (and therefore that you could check in this fashiong) about 10 or 15 years ago? After the "if only I had a penlight" lament, we got a little lecture on the best types of batteries to buy and how once he had to take his battery out and swap it with his buddies car to get 'em to work. It was very surreal. And I'm sorry I missed it, but apparently when he *finally* walked away, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a big-ole bottle of (presumeably) prescription pills. It was just odd. Bathrobe Man.
And the follow-up to that is that I never got her going...almost 30 minutes of jacking with it, and...nothing. I had to go back to work. However, a nice (and presumably sane--he was at least wearing "public" clothes!) young man came by and offered to take up where I left off. She returned the cables less than 5 minutes after I came back in, which leads me to wonder where the hell we went wrong, and if I should be concerned about my own battery.

So yeah. That was the big strangeness of the evening. And then I came home and captured these images for posterity:

Wherein Bucket shows his complete and utter disdain for the freaky amoeba ball. Could have something to do with the fact that we'd just put it on his face.

And then there is the other, happier, side of Bucket:


He was actually yawning, but it's more fun to think of it as a guffaw. :)

waiting...

for something big to happen so I can post about it here. We bought a bedframe, you see. A lovely Indian sej-style bed (4 posts/canopy/lots of dark, heavy wood). It's sitting in the spare room now, taking up just about every inch of available space. It's waiting for its mattress, which we bought yesterday and which should be delivered...oh, any minute now. They have another hour and a half to get it here. Oh, how I hate 3-hour delivery windows!

I will most certainly take photos of the bed when it is all put together and lovely.

For now...oh never mind. I can't find the camera cable to d/l (or would that be "upload"?) photos of the Bowflex Ultimate 2 which is lying in pieces on the floor of our front room. When you order these things, I don't think it ever really occurs to you that it they will not come fully assembled and ready to go out of the box. Or that you might possibly have to rearrange your entire living space to accomodate them. But at some point soon we will have our own little home gym and we will be sexy muthas. Soon.

A note!

The page I linked to is someone else's photos--I have nothing to do with that site except that I rode that trail this morning. I'm just stealing her intellectual property for my own purposes, since I forgot to take our camera. :D

Humbling

So this morning I got up at 6am to head out for a bike ride at Pemberton Trail. The main trail is about a 15 mile loop, and while not technical, has its fair share of deceptively easy climbs. I was feeling all mighty and good about myself being all pro-active and fit and all, until we pulled up to the checkin station and saw the sign: "Pemberton 50k Run Today". A few seconds after my jaw dropped, Scott (my tourguide) managed to calculate that 50k is about 30 miles. TWO LAPS around the trail. Running. Shortly after we started out, we started seeing the runners coming our way. They were just finishing up their first lap and most of them looked like they were just warming up. They all greeted us cheerfully; some of them were chatting casually with each other. I mentally took a step or three down from my high horse. I knew I'd be pooped after one lap--on my bike. These folks were slogging up and down the hills and through the sand strictly by their own propulsion (is that a correct usage of that word?)... I was humbled.

When I wasn't busy pulling over to get out of the runners' way, I was enjoying the views and the sounds of the crazy coyote chorus. The sky was blue and clear, the air was brisk, and yummy breakfast bagels awaited us at the end of the trail. It was a good morning. And it's only noon! I've got the whole day ahead of me.

We're going to play a bit, shop for a bit, and go watch the Ultimate Fighter Championships with some friends of Russell's. Wahoo!

Cell Phone response

Several people posted (Lurkers, unite!) with ideas on how to handle cell phone talkers in line to make purchases. While I find the idea of practicing my yodeling and/or shooting them with a waterpistol attractive, neither is really appropriate from my perspective as the girl behind the cash register.

What I generally do is treat them as though they are *not* on the phone, asking the questions I normally do, often in a louder voice than normal (yes, it is possible--no comments from the peanut gallery, please). I ask questions that require an answer--no nods of the head are allowed--and I make it plain that I expect answers. I don't ask those questions with an annoyed voice; I'm every bit as sweet with these jerks as the next person, but I do make it very clear that they need to turn their attention to ME--THE PERSON ABOUT TO TAKE THEIR MONEY!

That often is enough to get the point across and the offending customer will abruptly end the call, saying something like "The crazy girl at the checkout won't shut up; I'll have to call you back..."

Hey, whatever works.

Peevin'

1) Still, and always: people who talk on cell phones while they are simultaneously making a purchase. rudest thing ever. do humanity a favor and wait the 1 minute and 30 seconds the transaction will take to complete to make or recieve that call. And don't procreate.

2) people who let their dogs run off leash. they never seem to take into account the fact that dogs on leashes can become VERY upset at being accosted by a loose canine "buddy". or that at the least provocation the unleashed dog may bound into traffic...or just run away.

3) the fact that so few of my readers leave comments. or maybe I just have no readers. no. I refuse to accept that. damn lurkers! :P

4) working until 10pm and having to go back in to work at 7am.

5) people who NEVER EVER NO MATTER WHAT miss their breaks, even though others of us are busting ass to get stuff done.

6) needing 7 or more hours of sleep each night.

7) needing a job. period. and not being able to stay home and be a momma and go hiking with the hounds and take care of the house and just live.

8) not having any alchohol tolerance so that the Rockstar21 that I'm suckin down pretty much immediately makes me stoopid and overly chatty. and sleepy.... :D