I'm a huge fan of Lost, the TV show. Tonight, in Hawaii, a multitude of Lost fans (who have more money than I do) will experience "Sunset on the Beach." It's an annual event where the first hour of the season premiere is shown to whomever can make it to the event. You can read all about it here. I'd rather be there than here, of course. But you guys have ignored my "Donate" button (in the right margin), and so I'm stuck in central Texas.
There are bunches of people blogging and twittering about it as it happens, of course. There are even a couple of live, streaming videos. I'm currently watching this one. I'll most likely stop watching soon, though. I don't want to be spoiled, and I don't expect this video to be very interesting, anyway, once it starts getting dark.
Since this is the last season of Lost, this will be the last "Sunset on the Beach" event. I'm both elated and heart-broken about that.
Now, donate some money (a LOT of money) so that I can go to some other event when it takes place, like ComiCon, or something. Get busy!! ✖
Okay, I've been playing around with the look of my blog and I think I'm somewhat happy now. As you can clearly see, I've replaced the header with one of my own. Please let me know what you think. I may decide you're a complete idiot, but still, I want to hear from you. Let me know if you see any typos. I will fix those. ✖
I'm not real happy with the layout/template for my blog. I'd love to be able to figure out how to make one of my own. Maybe something like I have on my twitter page. I know how to make a banner. That's easy. What I can't figure out is how to make a whole template with a theme that I create. I've searched online tutorials (a little bit), but I haven't found anything (yet) that really explains it (at my level).
I was wandering around and I found this. At first glance it looks like Photoshop tutorials. Essentially, thats what they are. But the tutorials aren't as interesting as the delivery. Watch one or two and you'll see what I mean. I happen to think they're damned funny!
The plumbers came, cleared out the main line, and now I can flush the toilets (and close the windows). It only cost $70 this time. Last time (different plumber) it cost $85.
The following has nothing to do with the above. It's just a coincidence. Really.
I made a big pot of chili today, which is designed to last for several days. Problem today is that, for some reason, this chili doesn't taste as good as my chili usually does. I strongly suspect the meat. I usually buy fresh ground beef. You know - the kind in the styrofoam tray covered with plastic wrap. For some reason, I didn't buy that kind. This time I bought the beef that comes wrapped in a plastic tube, sort of like the way cookie dough is sold. This beef tastes different, and the texture is different. I would expect the chili seasonings and spices to sort of mask the taste of the beef, but it didn't. Now I'm stuck with a big pot of mediocre chili. That means that I'll probably end up throwing some of it away because I won't have my normal enthusiasm for eating a bowl.
If anyone out there has something bad to say about the sort of meat I bought, please keep it to yourself. I don't plan to buy that kind anymore, but I still have lots of chili to eat.
It amazes me how many people are willing to just give things away on the Internet. I don't mean cars or TVs or things like that. I mean graphics and software and tools for creating websites -- things like that. For anyone out there who does this, a huge thanks from someone who loves to get free stuff - especially cool free stuff. I'll list some URLs for free, neat stuff later. Not now.
I think I'm going to abandon my computer earlier than normal this evening. I've been here almost all day and my hiney is a little numb! Actually, I find that if I don't have a very interesting project to work on, I start to get tired of sitting here. Strange but true. So goodbye, dear readers. For now, at least.
Oh wait. One last thing. Could someone please buy me Thor?
I should blog about something because it's been so long, but I really don't have a thing to blog about.
I could tell you that my toilets are backed up, but you don't want to read about that. (I'm waiting until tomorrow to call the plumber because I don't want to have to pay more for Sunday service.) (Yuck, right?) (Thank God we're having somewhat warm weather so I can keep the bathroom window open.) (You're probably thinking TMI! TMI! Right?)
I could tell you that I was up all night, and that I stayed up all day, too, and that I plan to go to bed real early - like in the next half hour or so - but that's not real interesting. It might be if I'd had some exciting reason to be up all night, but I didn't. Just my circadian clock going bass-ackwards because I'm unemployed and not forced to stick to any sort of schedule. Staying up all day might allow me to get back on schedule, by sleeping tonight and getting up relatively early tomorrow. You don't care about that.
I could tell you that I've developed "cute" certificates for members of the Umbrella Hat Society, that they're suitable for framing, and that you'll get one if you join. You might care about that. Probably not. You should.
So for crying out loud, what the hell do you care about?!! Sheesh. What's a gal supposed to do?
Remember my dad's song? I blogged about it long ago. Okay. Now, are you familiar with the singing done by Brent Spiner (played Data in Star Trek - The Next Generation)? No? Then go over to his website and have a listen. This post will make more sense if you know what his music sounds like.
When I first heard my dad's song, I almost immediately thought of Brent Spiner. I could even picture him (or hear him) singing my dad's song.
Eventually, I found an e-mail address for Brent Spiner and asked him if he'd like to hear my dad's song. He said yes!! That was pretty amazing. So I e-mailed him a copy. Then I waited. And I waited. After awhile I thought he was either not impressed, or he just wasn't going to e-mail me back, and I eventually sort of forgot about the whole thing. Then today I GOT AN E-MAIL FROM BRENT SPINER!!! He said he liked the song. He said my dad should have been a songwriter!!!
I like to think he's sincere, but I know there's room for "just being nice." To tell you the truth, it doesn't matter! I'm just really thrilled that he listened to the song and took the time to write back.
The water where I live tastes awful, so I usually add something to it if I want to actually drink some. Normally I like the raspberry flavored drink mixes (Wyler's brand, mostly). They come in the individual serving packets and, if you buy them at Walgreens, they're pretty reasonable. You get eight packets for a dollar. But this isn't an ad for Walgreens or for Wyler's.
The other day I ran out of the raspberry flavor, so I started drinking the Iced Tea with Peach. It tastes okay. But what caught my attention is the smell. As I was drinking I noticed the distinct odor of marijuana. Yes. That's what I said. Marijuana.
Okay, let's get beyond the juvenile "How do you know what marijuana smells like?" question. Because I've smoked it, okay. And I inhaled. But that was in a former life. Now, back to the drink mix.
I have drunk a few of these, now, in the past few days and each one, no matter how hard I try to imagine otherwise, smells like marijuana.
If you want to try this yourself, here's what you do. Go out and get the Wyler's Light Iced Tea with Peach (sugar free; UPC 0 72392 35160 2*), mix up a glass (not a bottle, but a glass) and prepare to take a sip. Before you sip, as the liquid gets to your lip, inhale through your nose. Then come back here and tell me if I'm right or wrong.
*this UPC might not be the same if you don't buy them at Walgreens
I was just chatting online with an old friend about this and that. I came up with what I think is a pretty interesting original quote. I hereby claim it as my own. Should anyone want to use it, I expect to be identified as the source.
I'm sure I did. Rosie was out in the backyard barking, and I went out to see what she was barking at. I went to the edge of my deck and looked over at her. Rosie was about six feet from the fence barking at a black and white dog in the neighbor's yard. He looked friendly and not at all scared, so I stepped back and went around the railing to go to the fence and check on him, since he should not have been there because my neighbor doesn't have a dog. When I got around to where I could see the neighbor's back yard - about five seconds or less, the dog was gone. I looked around, noticing the neighbor's gate was closed so, if there had been a dog there, he couldn't have gone out through the gate. I looked all over the backyard and there was no dog there.
I'm sure, now, that he was a ghost. The dog looked very much like Butch, the dog my neighbor (who used to live in that house) killed with anti-freeze. He must have stopped by to see us. Or to let us see him.
More about HEB:
Got a phone call today from the manager of the local store - the one where I bought that disgusting "casserole." I didn't take the call because I was sleeping late (very late), so he left a message. He enthusiastically apologized for the bad experience and invited me to come back to the store for a refund. I won't, because it's just not that important to me.
In any case, I'm happy about HEB's handling of the matter. I only hope they improve the quality of their casserole, but they probably won't.
About that horrible frozen thing I bought and tried to eat, and blogged about here:
Hello, and thank you for contacting us at our H E B Web Site. We always appreciate hearing from our friends and Customers.
It disappoints us to learn that you were not satisfied with the Mexican Style Beef Casserole you purchased at our store. We offer a money back guarantee on our H E B and Hill Country Fare Brands. We always appreciate retrieving any unused portions for product evaluation. This helps us insure that we meet the high quality standards set for these products. If you are ever dissatisfied with one of our products in the future, please return the unused portion for a full refund.
Because we are always interested in our Customers' concerns, we are sharing your comments with our Own Brand Development Team for their information and consideration.
We value you as our Customer and genuinely appreciate your comments and your business. Thank you again for writing, and for shopping at H-E-B. We will look forward to all future opportunities we may have to serve you.
Okay, this is so weird that I have decided that I must blog about it. It involves farts, so be forewarned. It may be more information than you wish to know.
I have heard many people discuss whether or not they dream in color. (I do.) I have never heard anyone discuss the senses in dreams. Now, of course we see in our dreams, and we hear and speak, too. At least, I'm assuming that most, if not all, of us do. Touch is most likely there, too, for most of us. I'm still not sure about taste. I've never tasted something in a dream, but maybe someone has.
Last night I had a dream that proved to me that I can smell in a dream. And that brings us to the subject of this post. Last night I dreamed that I farted but the only reason I knew that I farted was because I could smell it. At that point I was worried that other people near me would be able to smell it and know that I'd farted. (I don't know why I assumed it was my fart, since I didn't "feel" the fart. The mind is a mysterious thing.)
That's really all I have to say about this particular subject - just that I never knew, or even thought about, whether or not I could smell something in a dream. Now I know that I can.
I'm following in the footsteps of [you know who you are] by warning anyone who shops in an H-E-B grocery store here in Texas about a product I recently purchased at one of their stores.
Do not ever, ever buy the frozen H-E-B Classic Selections Mexican Style Beef Casserole. Seriously.
This is by far the most vile food I've ever eaten. If it tasted half as good as the photo on the box looks, I probably wouldn't feel like I do. But it doesn't. It tastes worse than the box, and by that I mean the cardboard/paper, but with a more disgusting texture. In fact, I'm sure I would have enjoyed the box more than I enjoyed the casserole.
Think about the worst frozen burrito you've ever eaten. (You have eaten a frozen burrito, haven't you?) It was worse than that. Much, much worse than that. That frozen burrito was heaven compared to this casserole.
I seldom contact a company when I have a complaint about a product, but this time I felt I needed to let the H-E-B people know just how horrible a product they are attempting to sell to their customers. I'll let you know if I get a response. ✌
My immediate first thought when I saw this article was that human females do that, too. Well, we don't do it on purpose, necessarily, but the end result is the same. We get fat and, suddenly, no more sex. Human men have this ability, as well, unlike the toads. .
I have been watching - and enjoying - a reality show. Really. Now, thousands of people do this several times each day. But until now, I didn't watch any of the so-called "reality" shows. Mainly because they are so unreal. But boredom guided me to a show on Bravo - one of the cable channels. I watched my first episode of "Tabatha's Salon Takeover" a few days ago. I liked it! No one is more surprised at that reaction than I am. In case you're not familiar with the program, here's what happens: Tabatha Coffey is a talented and popular professional in "hair design and education" (from the Bravo website). She "brings her years of hands-on experience to help struggling salon owners turn around their businesses."
I, personally, have no connection with or interest in the hair design industry. So why would I care about this show or enjoy it so much? Being an analytical person, I did some thinking about that.
Have any of you ever worked in retail? I have. My observations are probably true in many industries, but I have to relate them to my personal experience, and in my personal experience I have met a lot of bosses and employees who just don't get it. They don't care, they don't want to work, they don't want to manage (or don't have a clue how to), and they drive any self-respecting, semi-hard working person utterly insane. But if you're in the sort of non-hiring, non-firing job that I had, all you can do is watch. If you're lucky, you're on some sort of medication that makes this easier to deal with, because that's all you can do - deal with it.
Then there's Tabatha. I love Tabatha. Every industry needs a Tabatha. Tabatha "visits" troubled salons in order to first watch and learn, then educate and repair. And she pulls absolutely no punches. She tells owners, managers, and employees alike what needs to be done so their salons can survive. She tells bad managers how to manage. She tells whiny employees their shortcomings. She tells everyone exactly like it is with the ultimate message being "make these changes or perish." And she sincerely means it.
It's a complete joy to watch Tabatha in action, and to watch the astounded reactions of the people she's talking to. It's a complete joy to watch whiny employees and incompetent managers transformed into proud, hard-working professionals. .
Like most human beings, I had a father. He was born, lived, married (three times), sired some children, divorced (three times), and died. His name was Dale Eckhardt. Dale Eckhardt was my dad. Dale Eckhardt was my only dad. Like most children, I loved my dad - Dale Eckhardt. My parents divorced when I was only six years old, and from then on I lived with my mom. I didn't get to know my dad very well, but I knew that he was my dad and that I loved him. I visited with him a couple of times while I was young. Dad died when he was only 55 years old, so I didn't get the opportunity to get to know him better as an adult. I was only 25 years old when he died. I'm 56 now.
I know my dad was not saint. Far from it. But still, I loved him. I was blessed with ignorance when it came to my father's shortcomings. He beat my mom, but I never saw it. Or, if I did, I don't remember it. Still, I loved my dad.
My older brother, Ken's wife sends out one of those year-end letters with her holiday cards. This year (well, last year, since it's now 2010), she mentioned that Ken's "father" died in September 2009. That's a lie. Ken's father died in 1979. Ken's step-father died in September 2009. I was quite bothered by that lie. Was it an intentional lie? Yes. Was it a malicious lie? Probably not. Why was I bothered? Because it sends my father, Dale Eckhardt, the father who I loved, into non-existence. And I find that disrespectful. I find it several other negative things as well, but my vocabulary isn't that great. I will say that I was very hurt by it.
But that was a month ago and I'd gotten over it, sort of. Until today.
I was doing some online genealogy stuff and, for some reason, I looked up the obituary for my step-father -- Ken's step-father. I couldn't see the whole obit (the newspaper wanted money), but I could see the first part. In the first part of my step-father's obituary it said that he had fathered seven children, and my name was listed as one of those seven. Well, he didn't father seven children - he fathered four. Three of the children listed are the children of my father, Dale Eckhardt, the father whom I love. My only father.
Now, I don't care what my brothers want to call themselves, or if they want to pretend their parentage is different, but I want the world to know that my father was Dale Eckhardt. He existed. He lived. I loved him. Still do. Always will. I do not appreciate anyone throwing me into a group in which I do not belong, making the father I love non-existent. Making me the daughter of someone I barely even liked. Who the hell do people think they are doing that? Relatives or not, they should know better, and they should be ashamed.
Should I be upset? Doesn't matter. I am. And I'm hurt. ,
Nothing much happening here. I was so tired yesterday that I went to bed long before midnight. I've watched the New Year being rung in on TV many times, so I'll just pretend that one of those memories is from last night!
Several years ago my mom and step-dad were visiting and I happened to have a bottle of Dom Perignon in the fridge, so we drank that to ring in the new year. Frankly, I didn't really enjoy the taste! I'd rather drink a sparkling wine. But I guess it's the name more than the taste. Or maybe I just don't know what "good" champagne tastes like. Of course, if someone wants to give me another bottle, I'll take it! .