Hit the Road, Jack

I'll be on vacation next week (so no blog posts, sorry), which means another 10-11 hour drive, each way, between Tulsa and Albuquerque.  I went to the library today to pick up audiobooks, as I have done in the past.  I picked up House of Earth by Woody Guthrie because, "Gee, I didn't know Woody Guthrie had written anything besides songs."  I also borrowed Light in August by William Faulkner because I've never read anything by him, and he's considered a "classic, must-read" author.  Together, they add up to 22 hours.  I hope they're interesting.  (I wonder how much the library would fine me for tossing CD's out the window along the highway.)

I suppose it's all up to one's taste, but I'd prefer to listen to something I already know I'd like.  For example, why couldn't the library stock an audiobook of The Muppet Show albums like the childhood LP's back at my mom's house?  Some of the skits are fine as audio-only, and they don't get stale with age.  This example immediately popped into my head.  It is one of my favorites.  (Sorry I couldn't embed the video.  Either the website or the office computer wouldn't cooperate.)

In Which My Career as an Adult Model Begins

A friend asked if I was interested in checking out the Blue Dome Festival this weekend.  (We also went to the Mayfest, which was going on simultaneously and just two blocks away.)  I found several artists I liked at Mayfest (more on them later), but none at Blue Dome.  However, the Blue Dome had the bigger draw for me, which we passed by right at the entrance.

We walked around the TARDIS and saw a sign "$7" on the other side.  "For what?" I wondered.  Below the price was a notice, "No cameraphone photos."

"Oops!" my friend remarked.

"What?" I asked.  "I didn't take any photos, and you don't have a cameraphone."

Still, you might consider this an illicit photograph of me.

Certified or Certifiable?

I have received my certification card for attending OSHA 10-Hour Training (General Industry Safety and Health).  The contact person in our facility says I am supposed to carry the card in my wallet.  Why?  Is it in case I get pulled over, I can hand the officer my driver's license, registration, proof of insurance, and OSHA certification card?

Drip Dry

The rug at the base of my toilet was sopping wet again the other day.  Again, I believe it occurs when my tub faucet drips exuberantly, splashes onto the floor, and seeps beneath the vinyl tiles until the rug wicks up the moisture.  As much as I like the maintenance guy here at the apartments, I'm tired of waiting for him to come and fix my faucet.  I came up with a plan.

I placed a bucket (about 2 gal. capacity, I think) beneath the tub faucet before I left for work one morning.  It was 4:57 a.m.  I stayed a little late that day, so I didn't return home until 3:47 p.m., 10 hours and 50 minutes later.  The bucket was overflowing.  If the tub drips more than two gallons in less than eleven hours, how much does it drip in a day?  A week?  A month?  (That was a rhetorical question, by the way.  I know I could calculate the answers if I really wanted them.)

I had to pour a little out of the bucket so it wouldn't slosh all over my carpet, but it still made an impressive display for the apartment manager.  The maintenance man was at my apartment in less than five minutes, and the faucet was fixed that afternoon.

Now it's kind of odd to walk into the bathroom and not see and hear the tub dripping.

Reading at the Table

If you make yourself a bowl of condensed soup for dinner, is it okay to read a Reader's Digest condensed book while you eat?

If you reconstitute a dry packet of soup with water, should you read the Cliff's Notes version of a book?

You Probably Expected This Yesterday

I must have been distracted by the slight headache.  Otherwise, I certainly would've included this in my earwax post.

I Call It "Grassketball"

As if gym class wasn't already torture.

Close Quarters

The last roll of quarters I got at the bank is entirely of new, 2014 Greater Smoky Mountains coins -- except for one.  I wonder how that one, pre-statehood quarter slipped in there.

In One Ear...

Shortly after I moved to the Noog, one of my ears became blocked by wax.  That had never happened before in my life, so I blamed it on the sudden return to a humid climate.

It has happened again (same ear).  Is it because of humidity again?  (If so, why a year after I moved here?)  Is it air pressure?  Is it the way I sleep, or my pillow?

Wax-melting eardrops restored me to partial hearing on Saturday, but I reclogged Sunday.  I had partial hearing for a short time this morning.  The rest of the day, I've walked around, turning my good ear to people who talk to me, and developing a headache just on the deaf side of my head.

Another inconvenience may lead me to temporarily change the radio station in my car.  When you're living with just one ear, a classical radio station can confuse one's brain into thinking it hears a siren or one of one's mobile phones.

Long Day's Journey into Dusk

I sat on my patio about three hours this afternoon.  I read.  I enjoyed the 77 degree day in the shade.  I listened to the birds (just finches, I think; I suspect the blue jay isn't nesting in the nearby tree this season, after all) and pondered how truly lovely the day would be if I didn't hear those air conditioner units running.  I pondered (ideas for two different perennial beds, and character names for two different stories, should I ever get the urge to write something).  I thought about putting together a jigsaw puzzle this weekend.  I forgot all about work.  I utterly relaxed.

The only thing that would've made the afternoon better is a bag of Cheetos.

Blue Goo

Alas, the chemical sprayer I used this morning leaked down my back.  One of my employees remarked that it looked like I'd given a piggyback ride to a Smurf.

"Yeah," I replied, "and he Smurfed all over me."

Single Guy Seeks Organic Mate

They say you should look for other singles in the grocery store.  I never see any in my store.  Most of the customers are senior citizens or women with so many children she doesn't know what to do.  I concentrate on my shopping list and get out of there as quickly as I can.

A few years ago, I posted about a particular brand of carrots:  Organic Bunny Luv.  Today, I noticed that my grocery store stocks that brand.  I also saw they stocked this:  organic Love Crunch granola.  (Since it's with granola -- and berries -- the chocolate must be good for me, right?)

What do they consider "organic love" anyway -- sex with lambskin condoms?  Does "safe sex" result in piggy banks?

Um, now you see one of the reasons I'm still single.