Chat.




Chat.

Originally uploaded by macwarriorny.

Lately I’ve been opening iChatAV while I’ve been on my computer, trying to step out from my own little private world and into the real world that actually exists. It’s unfortunate, but I have a huge list of people on my Buddy List and I don’t remember who 3/4 of them are. I don’t remember where I’ve met them and I sure as heck don’t remember what they look like. I suppose it could be considered rather embarassing. The trouble is I’ve migrated my buddy list from computer to computer and account to account since I was “djjp” on AOL back in 1991. Perhaps that’s why most of buddies come up with “account not found.”

There’s a smattering of family members on their as well and I’m finding myself preferring to keep in touch on instant messenger instead of letting my fingers do the walking on the telephone. It’s a little bit ironic, don’t you think, since I work for a telephone company and that industry contributes to our bread and butter. But I prefer chatting on a webcam instead of talking over the telephone. I’m very 21st century in that regard.

I also have a couple of friends that I chat with on a regular basis. (Hi there Terry!) Earl is a big fan of instant messenger but more of a Yahoo! type of guy, where I prefer iChatAV (which uses AOL). Then there’s my family members who decided to ignore the Apple-centric IT expert of the family and go with MSN. Granted, I have an MSN client on my PowerBook but it sure doesn’t support the stunning technicolor camera images from my iSight. Oh well. Someday the world will use one IM protocol and it’ll be a little bit easier to communicate with people.

So I’m trying to reach out to other bloggers and readers through instant messenger so I can get to know people better. Don’t be shy to say hi.

Soused.

Two lovely women stand in the center of the stage. On them, lights from every direction and millions of eyes from all over America. Moments before, a third had been asked to leave as she received the lowest votes. In typical fashion, she was told “you had the lowest votes, America has voted and you’re going home. Now sing one more time for us!”. So the audience sits one more time through an excruciating performance of “Last Dance” by Donna Summer and then we’re brought to these two girls.

The wring their hands in anticipation. One of them is going home, right now. Which will it be? The host asks the middle judge on the panel, “Paula, why do you think these two ladies are here right now?” Her professional, well slurred and thought out answer? “Simon said because ate pizza and one ate salad.” She then breaks into laughter and the host looks in horror as he realizes she’s making a joke at one of the most dramatic moments of the evening.

Fast forward 30 minutes.

A similar scene is painted again, this time with two male contestants. One of them is going home. The hosts, a little more sheepishly this time, asks the middle panelist a question. “What would you recommend for one of these men going home?” Her reply? “Simon hands out fortune cookies on X factor and the melon eats the corn flake.”

Several weeks ago I wrote that Miss Paula Abdul had gotten her act together and seemed to be handling this year’s American Idol with her trademark poise, confidence and maternal instincts.

Nah. She’s still a lush. Or stoned. Or both.

Here’s another account of the incidents.
Thanks to Rotten Ryan for the Paula cap. I totally stole it from his site.

Ready.

Like most of the people in the Northeast, I’m ready for spring. Singing birds, warm temperatures and green grass. The world looks so monochromatic to me in the winter time with the snow on the ground and gray skies overhead. That’s what it looks like today – monochromatic. Even the evergreen trees look just dark.

Significant snow is in the forecast for most of the area around us this weekend. Earl and I are still looking over our options of what to do to enjoy ourselves. We pretty much kept to the area last weekend, we don’t want to get crazy and do that two weekends in a row. That wouldn’t be like us.

Ah well, I suppose it all could be much worse. I should be grateful for what we have and stop complaining about the rest. I’d really be grateful for an early spring though.

Numbers.

I’m not a big fan of statistics. I usually don’t run around quoting averages and poll results to people because after all, what’s really in a number? I like to think that I’m much more colorful with wording when it comes to dealing with statistics and what not, for example, if six out of 10 people liked salt on their popcorn, I’d say that a majority of people like salt on their popcorn. If I notice that 85 of 100 cars in the carpool lane are hybrids, I’d say “there’s a lot of hybrid cars in the car pool lane.” When we were younger working at the family hardware store, my cousins and I once counted the number of people that picked their nose while waiting for the traffic light up the street. My cousins did a scientific study determining how many people, what time and their sex. I rounded it off to “most”.

CBS came out with a poll this week indicating that Bush Lite’s approval rating is at an all-time low of 34% and Duck and Cover Dick’s approval rating is at 18%. I don’t think it’s fair to taunt the current administration on their approval ratings. After all, it’s apparent that only “a smattering” of the American people approve of the president’s performance and “a few” approve of the veep. Why get all worked up with actual numbers.

So much for that big mandate they were crowing about.

I think the United States is gearing up for some changes. It’s just the start, but there’s a feeling of restless mounting among our citizens. Perhaps big changes here will go hand-in-hand with the civil war brewing in Iraq. Or maybe even the homecoming of our troops.

I could go on about some things, like the fact that there are over 11,000 (“a shitload”) mobile homes sitting in Arkansas intended for Katrina victims, except the for the fact that mobile homes aren’t allowed in flood-prone areas per zoning laws. So they just sit there.

Or how about this Dubai ports agreement thing we have going on.

Hold on tight, it just keeps getting interesting.

Ritual Dance.




Ritual Dance.

Originally uploaded by macwarriorny.

As I was eating breakfast, admiring the sunny day and the blue sky, I noticed the birds in the backyard doing a graceful, poetic ‘ritual dance’ over the treetops.

Funny how they’d know it’s the 1st of March, since that whole calendar thing is a human concept.

Stretch.

Well I finally got serious about working out tonight and moved my “exercise gear” out of the computer room and into the basement. Everything is arranged nicely; CD player strategically mounted with workout music like “Baby Love” by Regina, “Everytime You Touch Me” by Moby and “Come To Me” by France Joli. I picked up these workout shorts that are suppose to make you sweat a little more than usual while you’re doing your thing, and I have an old computer strategically placed so I can watch a workout DVD or web feed when the timing is right.

I had forgotten how energizing exercise really is. Bring it on baby. Bring it on!

Literacy.

From time to time I rant about the apparent degradation of the English language. Of course, there are probably many Brits that think we’ve destroyed the ‘real’ English, and they’re probably right. But it seems that as time moves on, the use of proper grammar is becoming more and more rare.

I’m not perfect. I’m not a perfect writer. I’m not a perfect speaker. I make mistakes everyday when it comes to my use of language. But here’s some chestnuts that I’ve heard or read in the past 24 hours that would have me tearing out my hair this morning if I had any hair to pull.

“You’re going to regret your decision. Mock my words, I’m telling you, you’re going to regret it.” Should the other person have responded with “neener neener neener” since he’s mocking his words?

“Go ahead and unplug it. After it has resetted, you should be all set.” Ugh.

“I’m going to go to my supervisor and conversate with her regarding this.” Why conversate when you can converse? Which leads me to…

“I have to orientate him tonight.” Sounds kinky.

“The ‘puter went broke.” I hung up on the customer calling that trouble in. Let someone else deal with his ‘puter. I should have asked how the ‘puter went broke, bad luck on the casino websites?

Then we have the daily loose/lose and desert/dessert confusion going on. People! “I need to lose a few pounds so my pants will be loose.” “I’ll have two desserts when eating in the desert.”

I’ve complained about this before. I know I have. But hopefully someone, somewhere will read this blog entry and say to themselves, “perhaps I can speak English more goodly.” Then they’ll do something about it.

Deception.

Looking out the window, it’s a beautiful day. The sky is a brilliant blue and there’s just a hint of wispy clouds floating about. It’s near picture perfect.

Except that it’s cold. Very cold. Last check it was 19.

With February wrapping up this week, I’m feeling a bit of cabin fever. I’m ready for the warmer weather and all the outdoor activities that come along with it. I’m ready to awake to the sounds of birds singing a sweet little tune. It looks like spring wants to make an appearance today with all her bright sunshine, but it doesn’t feel it right now. But it’s comforting to know she’s lurking just around the corner.

Oh well, I can always stand by the window and soak in the sunshine that way. Even if I have to give the thermostat a little spin.

Soaked.

Well after sleeping almost 10 hours last night I can say that I’m feeling better this morning. I awoke around 6:45 a.m. to find the sheets soaked in sweat, I think that means my fever broke which has to be a good thing, right?

I’m still not feeling 100%, but I’m definitely headed in the right direction.

Abs? Please Hold.

For a person that refuses to get sick or even acknowledge any sort of sniffles, I’m really sucking at being healthy this weekend. I’ve had the sniffles since Friday night, hoping that extra rest would shoo them away so I’d be on my game for work this week. As of right now (Sunday, 7:48 p.m.), my head is pounding and I feel feverish. We don’t own a thermometer, since having one would admit that you get sick, but I’m guessing my temperature is around 99, which is high for me since I usually cook at 95 or so. Now that I think about it, I don’t know why my temperature is always so low but it always has been. So 99 for me is a fever.

Earl and I drove to Dick’s Sporting Goods today so that I could pick up some equipment I’ve been researching online. I’m ready to start working on building muscle now, since my weight loss has gone well, so I eagerly picked up some stretchy bands (sorry I’m not too technical), some weights and a chin up bar designed to hold up to 300 pounds and possibly decapitate anyone over 6 foot 7 inches.

I really want to work out tonight! I really do. But my subconscious, and further research on the internet, is telling me that I should hold off until I feel more like more normal self (cooking at 95 or so).

I was really trying hard to ignore this cold today. Earl and I cleaned the downstairs, caught up on laundry and made the trek to the mall. I was hoping that I could say “Ha! I’m not going to be sick!”

Alas, the abs will have to wait a few days.