Meet 'n Greet

Dr. Moo is due to bring Jim to the McPolack homestead this weekend so he can meet the family. Including Chauncey the Wonder Corgi, which should be especially interesting given that male doggies like to show dominance by - well there's no way to put it gracefully - humping each other. Jim gets along well with other doggies while Chauncey doesn't like for there to be anything else covered in fur in a five-mile radius. Jim is a regular-sized dog with regular-sized legs. Chauncey is a medium-sized dog with short stumpy legs.

Do you see what I am getting at?

Anyhoo I haven't been to the McP homestead since Christmas I think. I'm looking forward to the visit.

Pasta la vista

So the gray lady has a story about how you can cook pasta using less water.

I won't link to it. I refuse, on principle, to read it. I think it's one of the dumbest story ideas I have EVER HEARD.

That is all.

Bloody Hell

I thought I'd take a break in my busy day and spend it giving blood at the VFW hall nearby. I ended up being there for two and a half hours and leaving with an ice pack tied around my right arm. There was something wrong with the blood pressure cuff squeezing my bicep. When the phlebotomist stuck me the cuff had deflated and my arm HURT. And it kept hurting. (It still hurts, a little.)

But I remained perky! I let another phlebotomist stick my other arm (the first one went on break) and take my blood. The vein was so full-o-blood that some spurted into the air when he stuck me. Exciting!

Anyhoo I was there so long they were out of t-shirts and were putting the chairs away by the time I finished. One nice lady rubbed my back. I ate three Oreos, drank a bunch of water, and walked home.

And now I'm watching Obama. He's the greatest.

Further Nerdification

Went and visited another nerdy art exhibit of sorts: the Higgins Armory, in beautiful Worcester. And by beautiful I mean drab.

The Higgs, however, is anything but. It was built by a steel magnate and is therefore shiny. Very, very shiny. As in silver-painted cinder blocks shiny. Inside are lots of suits of armor, parts from suits of armor, reproductions of suits of armor, weapons, and reproductions of weapons.

Also? Lots of nerds. Like the one who reminded me of the dwarf from LOTR, only with grey-blond hair. Either that or a reincarnated Viking having trouble accepting modern times. He was standing stock-still clad in chain mail and carrying a big axe. He told me his sword was for backup. A teenage girl was plodding around in black Uggs, silently cutting in front of people so she could take pictures of every single thing on display.There were a couple of tubby Scout leaders in untucked patch-laden short-sleeve button-downs, a girl in a Ren-fair dress, and other folks of a similar persuasion.

What was especially amusing was how eager they all were to answer questions. (Well not the Scout leaders as they were visitors.) You'd turn around and there they'd be, beseeching: "Have any questions?" "Can I answer any questions?" "Let me know if I can help!"

Of course by the time I had any questions they were gone.

The Stingah!

Today the yoga instructor was clearly looking for some flair. She asked if there were any requests (as in poses we'd like to do), and there were, and they were blah. She asked us what got us excited. I said how about:

That's right, sistah. McPolack brought it. This bendy gal is demonstrating Scorpion pose. It's a real crowd pleaser. Well really yoga isn't about crowd pleasing but wherever you go, there's your ego.

Anyhoo while I didn't do what this gal is doing, I did manage to flip myself up into forearm stand against a wall, and I began to bend. You start with your head and upper back, and then slide your feet down the wall, toward your head. My feet didn't quite make it to my head and I have no idea what I looked like, really, since there are no mirrors. But I felt great.

Miss Scarlett

I left Walnut's abode Saturday evening with a babysitting charge: her shiny red KitchenAid mixer. Miss Scarlett had only been used twice, to make whipped cream, and Walnut wanted her to be in a place where she'd get some real exercise.

I've already given her two workouts: bittersweet chocolate chip cookies, and a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and blackberry jam filling.

When Walnut buys a house, she will come for Miss Scarlett. Until then she's livin' in my kitchen. She's a fine roommate.

Me...so...

...tired.

It's all, good though. New clients and new projects are taking up a lot of my energy. I get up early, exercise, then sit in front of my computer and WORK*, until 8 o'clock at night, at which point I lay around in front of the television because I don't have anything left to give. A friend called today and left a message saying the poo I sent her on Facebook gave her terrible luck in the poo department and I don't even have time to call her back and tell her I sent her a log poo which, IMHO, should bring good luck in the poo department. Hopefully she'll read this post.



*OK so maaaaaaaaaaybe I take a lunch/General Hospital break at 3.

Many beardy geeks...

...were on hand for the art opening I attended with Walnut on Friday, at a gallery attached to a T station. It featured robotic art made by people from MIT, home to the highest caliber of geek. Robotic art is a rather specific form and an interesting one as it's a mix of science, which is all facty-wacty, and creativity, which is what a person needs to make up words like facty-wacty.

There was one exhibit that was annoyingly noisy and another with a lot of faux gore but for the most part the art was really neat and the geek energy positive. Walnut, whose bf is on some sort of AI board, is king of the geeks. Which makes Walnut the de facto queen.

I don't know what it makes me.

Anyhoo, here's an example of the art: There's a computer program that takes a picture of you and projects it onto a sculpted face on rails. Motion detectors sense where your face is and move the rail face up or down correspondingly so you can get an idea of what you look like to others.

Well really it's how you'd look to others if you decided it would be fun to come back from the dead to scare the crap out of them.

Electronic Sap

I am a sucker for electronic communications. At 35 I'm not really a tech-savvy youth; I'm like my parents, who both missed the hippie generation by thismuch. But unlike my parents, who never wore love beads, I love me my internets. By 7:30 morning I was up and running and hooked up with two dear people (via the Facebook) that I haven't seen in 14 years.

14 years! Damn.

Anyhoo, they both look and sound fantastic and yet they sound the same. Well not yet, I suppose, because they were fantastic 14 years ago, too. This is incredibly corny sounding but we really loved and celebrated each other back then; that we still do now is such a wonderful gift.

Overwhelmed

Last week I had only 10 hours of paid work. Between now and next Friday I have so much to do I almost can't think.

Not complaining, just noting.

I watched Obama's first press conference the other night. It's starting to seem realer that he's the President. I want him to be my Valentine.

Tonight it's Fruit or Breast time. Sorry I haven't been as forthcoming with episodes. It just hasn't played out that way. We do have a new caller, Matthew Fox, who talks to us during the commercial breaks for Lost. Plus last week Adam's dad said you can ask your dentist for those red chewable tablets that show you how good a job you've done brushing. If I had a dentist I would totally do this. OK maybe I would do this because I can see where this could lead to low self-esteem around hygiene.

Wait, did I just write that? No I can't! I have NO self-esteem issues around hygiene. Just wanted to make that absolutely clear.

Poor kitty!

I cat-sat for Eli and Clio this weekend, the happy pets of friends of mine. Clio is a North End stray and Eli followed them home from the beach in Miami as a kitten. There was a note with the kitties' chow that read "Give Eli a treat from the plastic bag but don't tell him there's a pill in there!"

Well I hunted high and low for that plastic bag and found it chewed through on the floor with two slightly goo-covered pill halves inside. Eli, ever the scrapper, had figured out the trick on his own. Naturally he resisted all my attempts to get him to take his medicine.

Well come to find out poor Eli was hit by a car yesterday; he was found under the porch, pretty banged up but, thankfully, alive. I'm posting this on my blog in the hopes that all my kitty-loving friends (and even my doggy-loving friends) will send him happy healing vibes so that he feels better soon.

Jim Update

Spoke to Dr. Moo as she was headed to visit the UVM cows this morning. Turns out Jim's lump is cancerous, and it's not great news, but not terrible, either. Basically they need to keep an eye on him to see if it pops up anywhere else, which it may, or may not.

Moo didn't sound too worried about the news and I'm not, either. Certainly if anything else were to happen he'd be getting great veterinary care.

One more Jim item of note: Apparently it is not Pp's fault that Jim is a beggar. One of the ladies that helped drive him here from Virginia bought him a cheeseburger and "Jim insisted I share my fries." This same driver also reported having a bag of toys in her car-the probable source of the teddies Jim brought with him in his stomach. Moo caught him trying to eat a kitty toy the other night but she bought him a stuffed cow at a pet store and while he loves it, it remains, blessedly, out of his digestive system.

Polish Joke...

...would be the name of the play I saw this weekend, in Portsmouth, with KBH. After we went to the Friendly Toast and holy Honolulu have they gotten expensive.

But I digress. The play was pretty sweet, a bit long and draggy in places, but overall very funny, and we both had front-row seats so when the guy dressed as a bike cop came out in painted-on shorts his junk was eye-level with KBH. (We got there late and had to take seats in different sections.)

One of the highlights of the evening was the drive home, during which KBH played a Garth Brooks CD. I had forgotten she liked country. "I've been listening to it since I was 19!" she said. Ah yes. That would be the summer she worked at a local farm and I worked at a factory and the work was repetitive and the soundtrack was WOKQ.

I stopped listening to country after that summer. KBH kept at it, and married a man who likes country music, and they played some at their wedding. And she knows all the words to this song, and sang it to me a capella while I rode bitch in her truck and laughed so hard I could barely breathe. Later I realized I'd been serenaded like this before--by Dr. Moo.

Good times, good times.

Welcome, Jim!

PolackPappy answered the phone Sunday (in his crazy old man voice) "Hello, Polack canine transportation service." He was heading out to pick Jim up and deliver him to Vermont. While on the phone with Dr. Moo once Jim had arrived I heard Pp in the background say "Does he like cheeseballs?" and then Dr. Moo yelling at Pp for doing what he does with all family dogs: teach them to beg.



This is what Jim packed for the journey...in his stomach, as he likes to travel light.



This teddy in particular seems to have enjoyed the trip and is happy despite not having any legs.

I think we can all learn a lesson from his positive attitude.

Moo said she washed Jim's teddies and when she brought them back out he was all "Hey, there's my bears, thanks!"

Brain Rot

On Sunday I watched the episode of General Hospital I missed on Friday, on Soapnet.

While I didn't sit and absorb every word of every episode I did note it was on and turn on the TV.

Last night I watched an episode of Frontline to combat my trashy tv-watching ways. I don't think it helped.

More New York Stories

So of course the Spanish sodomy supper was not the only point of interest in my NYC weekend; it is New York, after all. Further highlights included:

* On the bus trip home the young, blue-do-ragged driver Rogue (yes that is his name) pulled the bus over at one point and headed for the potty. A young guy in a nearby seat turned to his friend and said "Dude gotta drop a deuce. You know how it is." When we arrived at our destination, Rogue stood up, turned around, and said "If no one else tells you they love you today, I love you. If anyone asks, you can tell 'em Rogue loves you."

* While walking from Union Square to Battery Park with L and her Dutch friend R the street we were on dead-ended at the World Trade Center site. It was old hat for my companions but I'd never been there before. It's just this massive open space amongst a thicket of tall buildings; One World Financial Center, which was damaged in the attacks and has since been repaired, overlooks it. The oldest church in Manhattan, with a graveyard full of the very-long-dead, faces it. The sun was shining.

* Took the Staten Island ferry out and back. It's free and while we missed most of the sunset, we got to see the city, the Statue of Liberty, and the Brooklyn Bridge all lit up. Being on a boat in winter looking out at New York is awesome. At one point only the three of us were outside and I was leaning on the rail in the center of the deck breathing and watching and getting verklempt.

* Passed by a church whose bells were ringing like when church bells ring in a movie. Saw the door were open and there were white bows on the gates and a limo outside. Read about the wedding in the paper the next morning.

Hombres

Wondering what my Saturday night out with the Spaniards was like? I have one word for you: sodomy.

L and I arrived a bit late to the restaurant because one of the trains we needed to take wasn't running. There was a 40-minute wait and no Spaniards. Turns out they'd been there and left and from the looks of things, they'd ditched us. After a phone call we figured out they were at a pizza place up the street and that they'd brought another friend so now we were up to three Spaniards. Let's call them Nina, Pinta and Santa Maria.

Nina is the guy L met on the train. He meets us on the street. We crowd into the tiny restaurant where Pinta and Santa Maria are waiting. Pinta is Nina's roommate; Santa Maria is their friend. A waiter rudely tells us to wait outside so Nina, L and I move to the breezeway while Pinta and Santa Maria stay inside.

Eventually we are seated where we find the restaurant serves three kinds of pizza which serve one person and cost 21 bucks each. L aptly notes this is the Soup Nazi of pizza joints. The Spaniards start yelling and acting like a bunch of wriggly puppies, which is fine. Pizza and wine is ordered; pizza for all, and wine for the Spaniards. I am seated against the wall and Santa Maria is across from me. L is across from Pinta and Nina is at the head of the table.

I spend most of my evening being talked to by Santa Maria, who is lovely-looking, with pale skin and fine features. Unfortunately for everyone he is a pig. He starts out the evening by refusing to say what he really does for work, although he does get one small point for telling me he's going to be a virtual dentist. I try hard, really, really, really hard to get into the vibe of his conversation style and tell myself it is because he is Spanish that he is acting that way and hey, you're in New York! But then he starts talking about how impossible it is for men to be monogamous and how in Spain men have no rights and then...

And THEN he rolls into his main conversation topic for the evening: Sodomizing women. Delightful! Also he cannot seem to understand what an alcoholic is and keeps trying to get me to drink wine. All I could think was, just how stupid does he think I am? Is he meeting a lot of stupid women? Does this work on any of them?

I didn't talk as much to the other Spaniards, although Pinta told me he was working with bankers on the bailout and that they were "humble." Uh-huh. Luckily for L it seemed like Nina was a good guy, and Pinta, too. But when we split the bill at the end of the evening I wondered if Santa Maria was trying to get me to drink wine so I would have to pay for that, too.

Which isn't to say that it was a horrible evening; it wasn't. It was an experience.