Tonight i hear the term Pedibeer. apparantly you go out for a pedicure with friend ....and stay out all evening ;)

Ever since the GFC I don't get my monthly pedi anymore. :( woe is me. Now I just have to do my own. Woe is me!

(I pretty much think I'm the only one who notices my feet though, and I liked to go because it was just something I used to do for myself as opposed to the passtimes the men in my family subject me to constantly such as, sports on tv, or irl, fishing, making a mess, eating all the food, making a mess. Not doing stuff which clearly needs doing such as tidying the coffee table or sweeping the kitchen floor. I'm sure. you. get. my. point.)

I think I'll have a pedicure tomorrow evening. Out on the porch with a side grinder.

Top Chef Masters starts tonight. Woot.

When I was in college I painted one of my toenails black. My female friends enjoyed it.

Going to the county's interview day today and hoping I will find someplace that needs a fresh new English teacher. Wish me luck!

Good luck honey!

Hope you find something great!

Update: I didn't find anything today, but I'm not discouraged. I'm sure SOMEone will decide to move or have a baby or something later in the summer. :)

Or swallow something the wrong way.............;)


(is there still room? I'll take an aisle seat.)

This morning when Dazza was trying to leave for work, the windscreen of the car was iced up. That hasn't happened here in I can't remember how many years.

It's bloody cold. I live in a sub tropical climate. It's not meant to be like this!!!

What is it normally like there in mid June? Heat index here was 102 F. The pool was awesome, tho...;)

Well it might get down to single figures over night, but today it was minus in some parts of the city. That's pretty freeking cold! I don't really like cold. I like warm. Bring back my warm!

I have to go get a heater for Max's room today because his poor little fingers were like icicles.

Only 4 more days of the school year for my kids. I just really hope they make it through without getting sick. Lots of rumors going around, but I know that about a fifth of my daughter's grade is out sick with some sort of fever and lethargy. And the rumor is that there's a confirmed case of swine flu in the grade above her, and that 40% of that grade is out sick.

Information from the officials is scarce, but they did send a letter home to the entire school population saying that if any student has a fever they must stay out for 7 days or have a note from a doctor saying they don't have the swine flu. Normal policy is 24 hours after the fever goes away.

You know, typing all this out, I wonder if I should be keeping the kids home for this last worthless week of school.

I'd say yes

Below zero in Brisbane? Dang.
It was -6 in Canberra, but that is not too unusual.

Heat index here at 104 F today.

My favorite 3 things RFN:
1. Scotch
2. Ice
3. Pool

Wow... that's a lot of Scotch.

you know, to fill the whole pool.

Question for the Brits and/or those knowledgeable about British slang:

Kitsune and I were flipping channels and caught an episode of Thomas the Tank Engine where they were singing "Buffer up and share." We are completely baffled by the phrase "buffer up." Is it supposed to be referring to trains like... buffing up the trains, shining them up? Or is "buffer up" a common phrase in the UK?

No, it's not common. It's a tank engine thing.

:lol: I think the buffers are the parts of each carriage that sick out at each end, absorbing impact from bumping into other carriages. And troublesome trucks.

You know some weird shit, dude.

I've been exposed to small children. Thomas is a certainty. Unlike doubting Thomas.

That is indeed what buffers are.

I think the message is: Soften up and share. But whadda I know.

So I guess I should've asked those knowledgeable about trains. :o Thanks, guys! Makes a lot more sense now.

Chinglish Essay:

"The china government allows broth control..."

ooh sorry choco, didn't realize you didn't understand what buffers were. They're the bits on the end of a train to absorb impact. Like a car bumper. So I guess buffering up would be like snuggling up, getting close, holding hands.

http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/...585592tnJj.jpg

Yeah, but if you say it right, you can still make it dirty. :D

at this time in the morning with this cough, everything I say sounds dirty.

Do you know of the Freudian allegory that can be read into Thomas the Tank Engine?

If you're reading, I'm sure.

Thanks for the picture, monster! It certainly makes a lot more sense, now. Knowing nothing about trains, I couldn't figure out what the hell "buffer up" was supposed to mean. I know "buffer" to be like an extra space, or some just-in-case extra, but I didn't know it was also a train bumper. I think the idea of holding hands is probably spot on.

I knew I'd find my answer on the Cellar. :)

Actually, this one is prety clean. (I know, that doesn't sound like me!)

Busy RFN but I'll be back to explain later. Toot toot.

My wife and kids were in a community chorus Broadway tunes show today at a local church. It was really good and I was proud of them. I got there early with my mother in law, and got a seat in the 3rd pew on the center aisle. I had a nice view. I could see everything very well.

One weird thing that happened is that one of the paid soloists, a beautiful Asian woman who I've never seen before, chose me to look at when she was singing her solos. No big deal, right? Well, it was strange because this attractive woman with the voice of an angel sang two love songs while making direct eye contact with me for the entire songs. I would shyly break eye contact and look away once in a while during the first song, and she would always make eye contact with me again when I would look back. For the second song, I didn't look away at all, and we stared into each others eyes while she sang words about how much she loved me. The emotions I felt were so intense, it felt like I was cheating on my wife, while I just sat there in a crowded church and watched this soloist perform. It felt like this woman and I were the only two people in the room. Making unbroken direct eye contact for that long is powerful stuff.

At the reception after the concert, the soloist and I never even looked at each other, let alone spoke to each other. We're strangers.

Edit: I just re-read this, and it sounds all sad and wistful or something, but the thing that struck me the most about the event is how direct eye contact and music can pull up powerful emotions. Emotions that will disappear as fast as they come up.

That's very interesting, Glatt, now go and take Mrs Glatt out for dinner before she gets insecure.


Okay, back to the trains.

Of course we all know the Freudian sketch of mental structure with the Id, the Ego and the Superego, but just in case I'll give a quick rehash here.
The Id is the set of basic desires for food, pleasure, sex, ego gratification etc etc.
The Superego is the moralising regulator that controls and often forbids access to these pleasures.
The Ego is the mediator and compromise between the two, that tries to satisfy the Id without getting hassled by the Superego too much.

Id = Troublesome Trucks.
Superego = Fat Controller.
Ego = Thomas the Tank Engine.
Thomas is frequently caught between the strict demands of the Fat Controller who orders him to push the Troublesome Trucks around in specific ways, and the Trucks who are always up to self-indulgent mischief. Thomas is often frazzled trying to reconcile these conflicting forces.
There are some claims that one of the reasons that Thomas appeals to kids so much is that they can relate to his situation. Or maybe it is just that little boys like talking trains. Or else that they look like willies, especially when they go into tunnels.


ETA. Ducks is right. I do know some weird shit.

I just made an appointment to take our other dog in for teeth cleaning and to have a couple removed. Poor guy will have a sore mouth for a day or so, but at least he won't have to pay for the procedure.

Dogs can't pay bills anyway. No pockets. No money.

And that's not the only thing he's missing - [hint: I can't pimp him out for stud services to recover the money] :)

They put up a trapeze school in the parking lot across the street from my office last week. I keep forgetting to bring my damn camera to work with me. The squeals of terror coming from one student at the school yesterday afternoon were amusing. It's all right out there in the open where you can watch.

I have bad mouth-hunger.
I want to eat and eat and eat and eat (you get the picture, I'm tired of typing it far sooner than I'd be tired of eating and eating and eating etc)

I am NOT hungry.
My belly is satiated.
But my mouth is raging.

Argh.
Stupid brain.

...Barry White playing in background......

......Capnhowdy peters out......

.....does not post.....

Indeed?

Am fed up with waiting for a cheque with my tax return.
It's so unfair.
Lousy tax office holding onto my money.

Ditto National Insurance too for good measure.
And neither are contactable by telephone.

Meanies.

Today is going so slowly.
And more to come tomorrow I fear.

I don't know, I'm just really out of sorts.
I've tried to pin down why, exactly, but I think it's just today's mood.

I feel life is pointless and I have nothing especially to live for.
Not suicidal as such, just buried under terrible ennui and with no appetite for the future.

I honestly cannot think of anything I can do tomorrow, except go for a walk, and I feel my brain has been wrung out of any interesting walking possibilities already this week - I've been out for an hour most days. I can't even just shrug it off and sit in the garden as it's going to be showery all morning. And I went to the library as today's outing, so that's already ticked off the list.

BIG sigh.

Sunday is Father's Day, and we are going out for a Spanish meal at 13.00.
I am looking forward to it, but it's one of those awful occasions where as it gets closer, any genuine enthusiasm feels more like dread. All I really want to do is sleep, but that never comes these days.

On Monday I'll at least have some money, although all of it is earmarked for bills and catfood/ litter. But at least it will be a change, some reason for being in town. And I weigh-in of course, which gives me something else to do.

Tuesday I'm at Oasis for most of the day (okay, three hours in real terms) - counselling then acupuncture then group. Even if I don't quite feel A's enthusiasm for it, "It'll be a great day!" No, a great day would be a trip to Alton Towers, not 3 hours at Oasis... but I bowed to her enthusiasm, she's a positive influence. And then I'm off to the doctors, so it's a hair-raising schedule.

Wednesday, Mum & Dad leave for 2 weeks housesitting. Which I am both looking forward to and dreading. This might even be the reason for my current mood. I'll have a new prescription of Trazadone, so at least I can double that up and sleep for a week. But what will I do on my own? Will I be able to stick to a schedule? Will I drink?

And a week after that is my birthday. I'll be as much on my own as every previous year. All the disadvantages of living with parents without the one clear advantage of waking up on your birthday and someone else knowing about it. Never mind - I'm going to meet them for lunch, so that's better than most. I know what I'm going to wear as well, which helps. But it pours down!

Maybe I'll shave my legs tomorrow.
Nothing like the high life, eh.

:comfort: Hang in there Cherry. Do you like to read, write, paint, draw? Maybe check out the second hand stores? Rent some really awful movies that you can't watch when they're around? I know you'll make it - if you run out of ideas, you know we love it when you post photos from your neck of the woods, so feel free to snap some pics to share!!!

Top Gun is a Great Movie.

that is all

So you're a screen-whore as well as a post-whore, eh?

So, I don't know exactly how many of you have teenage boys, but I've got one who's nearly a teenager, and this morning he was sitting on the mat in the loungeroom playing with Max and he farted (I was sitting about 5 feet away), and he turned to me and said, "Did you hear that Mum?" Apparently he was very proud of it judging by the level of excitement in his voice...then he had to move. It smelled.

passin' through...

Today I am Grandad-sitting.
I've come home to tend to the cats (and sneak a little screen time) because his cleaner is there now.

When I went to see him Sunday, he said that he'd had a funny turn in the morning, but it had passed. I told him that he should never be afraid to call me - I'd come round or call the doctor, whatever he needed.

This morning I got a call at 07.30 from his morning carer (who gets him up, washes and dresses him). He was feeling bad again, and could I call the doctor when the surgery opened. It wasn't a bad thing to get the call - I'd been swamped in guilt dreams since waking and then dozing from 04.00 onwards. All dreams: at one point I was lying in bed with loads of empty cans of Stella under the covers, and I'd heard Mum and Dad come back and start making breakfast downstairs. Then I discovered a full can and realised I'd passed out drunk before even finishing my stash the night before. And was trying to work out how to open a can without them hearing me. Another one was that as I went downstairs, my boots were on fire, and the flames were licking at the bottom of the coats on the coatrack. I traced it to a smashed bottle of wine which I forgot I had - and was trying to work out if it was still drinkable when I put the flames out. And then I was sifting through the piles of cans and bottles trying to find one with some drink left when I saw their shadows on the front door.

Anyway, got up, sorted the cats, showered etc and was round there by 07.50.
Called the docs and said I'd sit with him.
Quick trip down to the Spar - Mum told him in a telephone call on Monday that it was just dehydration and he needed to drink more, so I was dispatched to buy bottled water which he feels he can sip more easily. Wicked Mum also told him that Aunty Alice (his sister) died from dehydration, which she knows perfectly well was untrue - she died from a massive stroke/ myocardial infarction. She was on a drip when she died. Still, part of Mum's cruel to be kind strategy.

I've spend the morning in and out of his bungalow, offering tea, to make a sarnie, to cook something etc, alternating this by sitting in his sunny garden while he watched Sky TV.

Doctor is due any time after 13.00.
It's not a chore for me because it's not a permanent responsibility.
I've been round to clean his kitchen and toilet every other day and to get his shopping. And he is treating me like his carers and cleaner - a real gentleman, gratefu; for everything. I do know the flip side though. He takes Mum horribly for granted and complains to other people about her - which makes her cry because she does love him and she does do a lot for him (a very secondary consideration as Mum is big on duty).

I told Mum that id Grandad criticises me to her when she gets back, PLEASE don't tell me. I hope she'll remember.

Anyway, that's my day today. Just wanted to rationalise it a bt so it doesn't feel like a drama.

Grandad's fine.
Except for a call about 2 minutes ago querying whether I removed the right tablet from his dosset boxes.

FTR - yes I did.
Not only do I remember it quite clearly (it was the white tablets that come in an orange box, not the orange tablets, which Grandad remembers it as) I did it right in front of the Doctor, who checked both the box and the tablet before I proceeded.

Ah well, it's been a busy old day for him.
He's probably getting ready for bed.

I have a five year old daughter and a 28 year old SO who do the same thing. So I do it back. (The sweet, adorable Princess' daddy has taught her "Pull my finger." Isn't that cute.........)

If you're not invisible you're not anyone! I've been trying it out for a week or so now but it doesn't make any difference really. I think I'll go back to visible. :)

A successful marriage:

Haggis, what's really funny is that chat screen is how they talk to each other...

is there another way?

...but you can't make the chat screen scream.

Depends on how fast the computer is.

Ed Freeman


You're a 19-year-old kid. You're critically wounded and dying in the jungle in the Ia Drang Valley, 11-14-1965, LZ X-ray, Vietnam. Your infantry unit is outnumbered 8-1 and the enemy fire is so intense, from 100 or 200 yards away, that your own Infantry Commander has ordered the MediVac helicopters to stop coming in.

You're lying there, listening to the enemy machine guns, and you know you're not getting out. Your family is half way around the world, 12,000 miles away and you'll never see them again. As the world starts to fade in and out, you know this is the day.

Then, over the machine gun noise, you faintly hear that sound of a helicopter and you look up to see an unarmed Huey, but it doesn't seem real because no Medi-Vac markings are on it.

Ed Freeman is coming for you. He's not Medi-Vac, so it's not his job, but he's flying his Huey down into the machine gun fire, after the Medi-Vacs were ordered not to come.

He's coming anyway.

And he drops it in and sits there in the machine gun fire as they load 2 or 3 of you on board.

Then he flies you up and out, through the gunfire to the doctors and nurses.

And he kept coming back, 13 more times, and took about 30 of you and your buddies out, who would never have gotten out.

Medal of Honor Recipient Ed Freeman died on Wednesday, June 25th, 2009, at the age of 80, in Boise, ID. May God rest his soul.



Medal of Honor Winner
Ed Freeman!
Since the media didn't give him the coverage he deserves, send this to every red-blooded American you know.

THANKS AGAIN, ED, FOR WHAT YOU DID FOR OUR COUNTRY.
RIP