Ponderings and Musings

I’m taking some comp time from work today simply to catch up on some household chores. I had a whole bunch of ebay stuff to ship, plus I wanted to get caught up on laundry and everything since Earl and I are going to be in Philadelphia this weekend.

So I was driving home from work following my normal route. I am fortunate that we live near one of the local freeways, so aside from a few blocks of “city” traffic, it’s smooth sailing on the short drive home.

Except when someone is driving the wrong way up the freeway.

I had just jumped on at my usual interchange and had BT cranked up on the iPod. I was behind a tractor-trailer when all of a sudden the tractor trailer made a quick swerve to the right, into the shoulder. I immediately slowed down, not wanting risk damage to my beloved Acura (who cares about me, SAVE THE CAR). Then I noticed that there was a mid 90s Oldsmobile headed for me. The elderly driver, a man from what I could tell, was straddling the dotted white line, apparently oblivious to two things: he was headed the wrong way down the freeway and he was headed for other motor vehicles. I jumped into the shoulder, beeped my horn and yelled at him (surprisingly without profanities). I don’t know what I hoped to accomplish by yelling, as if he couldn’t see the car or the tractor trailer or hear my horn blaring, I doubt he was going to hear me yammering away at him from inside the car with the windows closed. He got by us and from what I could tell in the rearview mirror, he proceeded to drive several other vehicles off the road as he made his way up the freeway in the wrong direction.

I have a couple of thoughts about this.

First of all, I don’t believe that just because you’re elderly that you no longer have the privilege of being a motorist. And it’s just that, a privilege. It’s not one of your rights. George Washington did not cross the Delaware to secure a driver’s license for all. And that includes horse and buggies. Older people need to ambulate just as much as their younger counterparts do.

That being said, I believe that all motorists should be tested on their driving skills at least once a decade. Vehicles change, roads are reconfigured and driving habits deteriorate. Now I’m not saying that you should go through a full-blown road test with hand signals and all that, but I believe that you should have to demonstrate to a certified test official that you are able to navigate both local roads and freeways safely and efficiently without causing harm to yourself or those around you, and you should have to do this every ten years.

I also believe that if you drive something bigger than your average Cadillac sized sedan (read SUV) then you should have to demonstrate competency in being able to handle that safely. Yes, I believe that to drive an SUV you should have a special rating on your license. And to get that, you need to be able to drive it, park it in a parking lot, navigate a narrow street and parallel park.

If the requirements for maintaining a driver’s license were a little more stringent then perhaps we’d all pay a little more attention to what they were doing instead of yakking on the cell phone/slapping children/shaving/applying makeup/etc.

I just reread the previous two entries from today and found that they made me sound quite cranky today. I don’t feel cranky at all, just full of opinions I guess. I’ve been busying myself about the house while covering on-call for a couple of hours for a co-worker, Earl is parked on the sofa (or in old English, Davenport), watching the Eagles game on Monday Night Football. I occasionally hear a loud “YES” or “GO” in a very authorative football fan voice.

Go Eagles!

So while it may seem that I’ve been a little cranky and/or spacey today, rest assured that I was my usual jovial self. And thank goodness tomorrow isn’t Monday.

During a particularly agitating phone call with a customer today I decided to let my mind escape for a few moments while the customer ranted and raved about something quite trivial in the great scheme of things. What I find insane, quite frankly, is I daydreamed about singing a cover version of Dead Or Alive’s “In Too Deep”, complete with cowboy hat and chaps with my ass hanging out for the video.

Thank the Universe I’m not trapped in an episode of Ally McBeal or I would have found myself sitting at my desk in that very outfit.

Oy. Where the hell did that come from? Shockingly, it’s just another Monday in my book.

Maybe I need my own theme song or something.

This work and school thing simultaneously has me feeling a little overloaded in the technology department. I mean it’s point and click at work, point and click at school and then point and click at home. Point. Click. Point. Click. Point. Click.

Gosh I miss the DOS prompt.

So I haven’t been as chatty as usual here in cyberspace. It’s all good, even the most devoted of geeks needs a break now and then.

School is going well and I am *loving* the experience. I’m ready to take more on come spring semester. Work is going well in that it isn’t on my nerves and the social calendar is filling up quickly, as always. Earl and I are continuing our year long 10-year anniversary celebration by planning a special weekend beginning October 13, the anniversary of the day I proposed to him. Part of that weekend will be spent in Buffalo as I assume the guise of “DJ PiperCub”, but the rest of the weekend is in Earl’s capable hands. I heard something about a train, a plane and an automobile but I guess I’ll just have to wait until I can be surprised.

At least on September 13, the anniversary of the day we moved in together, we didn’t pitch any plates or glasses at each other. We’ve never done that. We don’t do that. I don’t know why the thought even crossed my mind.

So after work tonight at 5:00 p.m., I get to zoom home, gulp down some chow and head off to school to be in class by 6. Hopefully in stylish jeans. Tuesday night it was mentioned that we are not allowed to turn on the computers until the instructor is present. Guess I can’t buck for some brownie points tonight by doing that again.

I just had the oddest experience. I was eating my lunch, catching up on blogs and minding my own business when the phone rang. After remembering the fact that I’m no longer on call and was able to shake off any jitters or panic attacks, I proceeded to answer the phone. I was hoping it was Earl calling to talk dirty to me during my lunch hour. Of course I didn’t check the caller ID.

“Hello?”, I said in the deepest, sexiest voice I could muster.

“Well hello Loretta, It’s Joanne.”, said an elderly voice on the other end. She sounded like a woman.

“Uh, I think you have the wrong number”, I said (deflated), lowering my baritone voice down into the James Earl Jones range.

“How’ve you been?”, asked Joanne.

“Well, I’ve been fine, but I don’t think you have the right number.” I began to paint a mental image of what this mysterious Loretta must look and sound like. I wondered if her mustache was red too.

“When do you want to get together?”

“I really think you have the wrong number.”

“Is this 1545? 5945? 4945?”, she asked, suddenly confused. I was confused too, because she had rattled off too many phone numbers. Perhaps she was trying to dial Egypt.

“None of the above”, I responded. Such wit.

“Well I was trying to call Loretta.”

“Well, I’m not her. Have a good day.”

If you see a woman with a husky voice and a red mustache, tell her Joanne called.

So here it is Friday night and Earl and I are sitting upstairs playing on the computer. It’s very still outside, which has me a little nervous because I see Chicago east through the Ohio Valley is having some wild weather with tornado warnings and such. Normally, I would be quite excited about the possibility of that blowing through here except for one thing.

I’m on call this weekend.

I can’t really complain about on-call, as my team leader took two nights of my duties this week so I could go to school Tuesday and Thursday. On call during the week is the hardest part of the whole on call thing, the weekend is cake because I can sleep when I need to. So I’m not going to complain about it.

It does leave me wondering what to do this weekend though. We spent last weekend cleaning the house so aside from dusting, laundry and watering the plants, the house is in decent shape. I think I feel a video project stirring. Perhaps I’ll have to mess around with that a little bit and see if I can dream up something interesting. Now that the basement is cleaned out, I have room to put together a green screen.

Maybe I’ll try flying in a video.

Last Tuesday I was busy at work when my cell phone honked indicating that I had received a text message. I usually save my text messaging for after work hours, so I knew that something was up when my phone dinged in. The message was simple:

“Holy shit dad is getting married on sun call me”

The message was from my sister. Apparently she had spoken with my father and learned of some joyful family news. Luckily it was just before lunchtime, so I took the opportunity to call her during lunch. She told me that Dad and his girlfriend Karen had decided to get married and they were ready to do it over the coming weekend. They didn’t want any fuss and they didn’t want anyone to know that they were getting married so that there would be a huge party or anything like that. They would appreciate it if we didn’t tell anyone of their news.

So Sunday evening, Earl and I and my sister Jennifer went to Dad and Karen’s wedding. It was a beautiful, simple ceremony at the church Karen and her son have attended since moving to this area around 10 years ago. Their closest friends, people Jennifer and I have known all our lives, stood along side them as they exchanged their vows as we sat in the pews watching, praying and wishing them well. There was no organ music, there was no procession down the aisle; the simplicity added to the beauty.

Afterwards we all went to dinner in the historic village of Sackets Harbor, which is located near where the St. Lawrence Seaway and the 1000 Islands meet Lake Ontario. The food was delicious, the conversation was lively and the smiles were beaming.

It was truly a wonderful evening. I’m glad I don’t have to keep the secret any longer. I’m not that good at it.

And now I’m the red headed stepchild of the family.

I wake up this morning and notice that I can’t see outside at all. It is the foggiest I’ve seen it in years. Why, it’s foggier than it ever was on Scooby Doo when they were trying to trap the bad guy. I can’t see a thing.

I think the Universe is telling me something with this fog. You see, last night Earl and I decided to go out to dinner after working on cleaning the basement and garage and ripping out the swimming pool all day long. Going out would be a celebration that we accomplished the job that we didn’t think we’d really get done. I believe my words were, “after all this hard work, I want an evening of debauchery!” We’d go out to dinner and then maybe to one of the bars in Syracuse where I could stand and pose and feel pretty. I was even flagging, which I haven’t done in years. It adds to the mystique.

So we headed west to eat at the local Carrabba’s, which is better than Olive Garden but still has the trappings of a national chain. While en route, Earl talked to my sister to see what she was up to and invited her along for the fun. I also told Earl that I wasn’t going to drink any beer, since I’m such a lightweight and would be a mess after just two.

It turns out I opted for red wine instead.

I don’t know why I thought I could handle wine better than beer but that theory was shot completely out the window last night. The two glasses of “house red” were certainly enjoyable, but made me really foggy. Really, really foggy. As I sit here and type this entry, I’m realizing that I have little recollection of coming home. I certainly hope Earl drove. I suspect he did because while I like living life on the edge, I’m not that irresponsible. I know I had hopes of going out after dinner but apparently that didn’t come to fruition.

I’m done drinking any alcohol for quite a while.

I do remember having some great conversation with my sister and Earl during dinner. We always laugh so much when we’re together. She’s getting ready to head for Russia for a month, as her boyfriend is a Canadian pro-hockey player and is over there playing hockey again this season. I don’t remember much after dessert though.

So now it’s shortly after 6 a.m. on a Sunday morning and I’m barely back on earth. I think I’m going to take a nap.

It’s official. As of Wednesday, Earl and I have lived together in one household for ten years. To celebrate the event, we rented a dumpster to throw out all the junk we’ve accumulated over the years.

It’s really amazing to think that we’ve accumulated all of this stuff when we’re living in our third place together. I mean some of this stuff I’ve saved from the apartment we lived in back in ’96. But here we are, still holding on to old copies of DOS and a 286 computer with a 13-inch monitor.

You never know when technology is going to regress, I guess.

We decided to include the neighbors on our celebration by emptying OUR pool in THEIR lawn. It wasn’t intentional, but they’re the ones that live downhill from us, so now they can play “swamp thing” out in the backyard, courtesy of their neighbors. I thought it was a nice gesture. Tomorrow the pool goes in the dumpster. Next spring we’ll say “hello hot tub.”

Wanna visit?

This week is flying by at an incredible pace. I feel like I can barely keep up with it. We’ve been off somewhere every night this week and tonight will be no exception, as we have to drive to Syracuse (the round trip is 90 miles) to pick up my car from it’s 20,000 mile tune-up. At least it’s an excuse to go out and eat.

I feel like the laundry baskets and my e-mail inbox are bulging at the seams. It’ll be good to catch up on both this weekend. We also had a present delivered for our weekend fun – a dumpster. We’re finally going to get the basement cleaned out and functional again.

What a way to relax.

You know, even though we’ve been moving non-stop this week, it feels like it’s all been in “maintenance mode” – get the car tuned up, vote in the primary elections, pick up needed items at PetSmart, that sort of thing. I think Saturday night we’re going to do something that doesn’t have the earmarks of “responsibility” attached just for the hell of it.

Watch out – the boys are getting wild!