Saturday night when Babeness and I got home from some late-night WalMarting, my old friend Natenatenatenate stopped by. Hadn't seen him in perhaps three or four years or so, at least. Was great to see him and to rehash some escapades. He's still short. And he's not working in radio anymore, at least not right now. I'd spill some incriminating anecdotes about Nate and I, but perhaps I shouldn't. You never know who's reading.

3/28/2003 Friday 8:49 AM
Well.
I may as well get back into it.

Last week was one I'd rather not remember, but one I don't think I'll ever forget. Unfortunately, it's the sort of thing you never forget; it's always with you. Will it happen again? That look on his face - is he feeling alright? What if....
I learned a lot last week, about a lot of things. I don't know where we'll go from here, but what matters is, my brother is alive to go there.
'Nuff said.

I'm terribly sorry my my babeness's spring break got ruined. I'm not sorry she spent it with me, of course (or at least, I'm not sorry I spent it with her), but I'm sorry we couldn't spend it the way I wanted. I want to make it up to her, but I'm not sure how, or when. But she deserves it. She's the best, and she spent a week proving it.

I'm a little emotionally and intellectually spent right now - too much war, too much worry, too much work, not enough sleep, not enough simple relaxation. So even though it's been almost two weeks, I still have very little to say. I just need a plain ol' day off, where I can sit down to dinner with my babeness, flick through some sit-coms and movies, drift off to sleep, and wake up not to an alarm clock but to the sound of birds. Or the sound of rain, just as good.
Someday.

3/28/2003 Friday 12:21 AM
No FF for me this week. Those questions are far too creepy, given everything that's happened this past week.

3/21/2003 Friday 9:21 AM<
Things are going much better now, and every day brings more good news.

And this:

1. If you had the chance to meet someone you've never met, from the past or present, who would it be?
Leonardo DaVinci. I'd never run out of things to talk about.
2. If you had to live in a different century, past or future, which would it be?
23rd century. Far enough into the future to be significantly different, but not far enough (probably) where I'd be completely overwhelmed and not comprehending how things got to be the way they are. I'm under no illusions that it would be a Star Trek-type Utopia. Besides, don't you just want to know?
3. If you had to move anywhere else on Earth, where would it be?
Probably somewhere down Australia way. I have to have some sun.
4. If you had to be a fictional character, who would it be?
Laertes, from Shakespeare's 'Hamlet' - an honest guy, an honorable guy, trying to do what's right, willing to stand up for his convictions, and willing to shake your hand even if you're in the opposite corner of the fight.
5. If you had to live with having someone else's face as your own for the rest of your life, whose would it be?
Leonardo DaVinci. Ever seen his self-portrait(s)? I think I could pull it off.
Okay, then, seriously, I know it's a copout, but I otherwise have no idea how to answer this one.

About the war: I was reading a bulletin-board last night, and somebody wrote:
"I hope very little soldiers and innocent Iraqis are killed."
On behalf of innocent Iraqis and diminutive soldiers everywhere, I have to disagree; somebody's gotta stick up for them.
I know what she was trying to say, but really, that's just classic.

Mariana is still asleep. I'd like to be.
And I don't know when I'll get 'round to this thing more often. Soon, I think, maybe this weekend.

3/18/2003 Tuesday 12:35 P<
Just a note - I'm still around and am planning to update soon. It's been a busy weekend (but a wonderful one!), and the one time I sat down to blog (Saturday night), something happened and my update didn't save. Arrgh.

3/14/2003 Friday 12:05 AM
Well, since you're wondering, here it is:

1. Do you like talking on the phone? Why or why not?
The act itself doesn't bother me, and I suppose I enjoy it. But there are too many associated peeves - people who leave messages but don't identify themselves or why they call ("Call John at 1-800...." and that's it), or folks who call but don't have anything to say...
2. Who is the last person you talked to on the phone?
My babeness, Mariana.
3. About how many telephones do you have at home?
Including cellulars, and including those that are not plugged in, perhaps five. Only three functional, though - two cells and one wall phone.
4. Have you encountered anyone who has really bad phone manners? What happened?
Way too many, usually at work. And there are far too many incidents and anecdotes to pick just one. Folks who mumble, folks who blurt out their requests without bothering with some basic human courtesy or greetings, etc.
5. Would you rather pick up the phone and call someone or write them an e-mail or a letter? Why or why not?
Can we have some more over-generalization, please?
Well...for some situations, I prefer e-mail. For others, I'd prefer a phonecall. Is that so hard to believe? I can't think of very many situations where I'd prefer a letter, except for professional reasons where I need a paper trail.

A KeyWord Rankings update.

3/13/2003 Thursday 10:29 PM
Ah, the joys of home ownership.
Today I snipped, hacked, and wrangled more of the dead passionfruit vines off the back fence, piling it up in rough, five-foot rolls which I then tied neatly with twine so the city would take it away. (They're awfully persnickety about things like that. If it's too big, they'll drive right past it.) I hacked off most of the dead vines, but I think the trunks are still alive, so I left them in the ground. Then I snipped off the limbs from the mango tree. (All of this deadness is because of the freeze a few weeks ago.) The mango is covered with tiny, new leaves, so it's okay. Then I planted a few more pepper plants. So now, again, I'm grubby, sweaty, thirsty and tired.

Mariana's roommate is gone, gone, gone for a week and a half.
Forward all my calls, please.

Yesterday my babeness and I escaped from campus and went for a little impromptu picnic downtown at Lake Eola. I figured after receiving such distressing news (even if she did, unfortunately, expect it), she could use a pleasant little diversion for a little while. We circled half the lake, trying to find a good compromise between a view of the lake itself, some relative privacy away from the homeless people and dog-walkers (and the couple who were necking on a blanket), and decent seating arrangements. We finally found some benches near the big swanboat rental place (seven bucks for a half hour).
Mariana went almost immediately into a startling transformation, from the sweet, mild-mannered, huggable little cutie-pie that she normally is, into a savage, snarling hell-vixen, bent on the utter destruction of every winged creature within a 30-foot radius (and some four-legged ones that wandered too close). It was frightening. She's already given me the stories of her own Hitchcockian 'Birds' experience in Venice, Italy, where she was relentlessly attacked by a flock of brazen pigeons who nipped at her heels, shat on her friends, and refused to yield to the arrogant humans who only wanted to walk from one place to another. So she was determined that these pigeons here, their Yankee cousins, would pay the price for the violence of their Italian brothers. Poor little pigeons, they never had a chance. She even yelled at me for tossing them a few crumbs. I cowered and hid behind the bench, praying that she wouldn't flash her laser-eyes at me. There was one seagull, a brave one, who stood on a fence-railing right in front of us, and never flinched at all, no matter how many times Mariana kicked at the pigeons, flailed at them when they flew overhead, or yelled at them. He just sat there. Another pigeon, obviously male, aggressively pursued, oh, about a dozen various female pigeons, that horny little bastard. Now I know how guys look in bars on the weekends. (Good thing I never looked like that. No sirree bob.)
All I wanted to do was feed the ducks. But she wouldn't let me. Even the poor little duckies had to bear the brunt of her hateful crusade against all things avian. I came equipped with a big bag o' bread, too, some stale pitas and bread ends. So I reluctantly stowed the bag back into my bag and trudged off, watching the ducks watch me. I mouthed a silent apology to them, hoping they understood that like them, I was just caught in the crossfire of Mariana's quest for vengeance. We're all victims, I guess, since this is after all a society of victims. Even ducks.

So, where are YOU going to be on...uhh, some day in the future that I don't remember what day it is?
Let me start over. I heard on a talk show about a 16-year-old girl named Sidney in Minnesota who has single-handedly organized a "Rally for America." Now granted, I don't know all the details about this thing, or how big it is, but I think it's both refreshing and reassuring that someone so young cares enough to do this, and is wise enough to want to. Congratulations to Sidney, and congratulations to her parents, who have obviously done something right. Well, I don't remember what day it is scheduled for, but if I did (and, uh, if Babeness and I lived in Minnesota), that's where we'd be.
I'd be the one feeding the pigeons. She'd be the one kicking them.

Mariana is boycotting the world, by the way, save for one fortunate dork (who is me). When she feels up to it, she will return to 24 Hours, which seems much emptier without her.

3/12/2003 Wednesday 9:35 AM
There are a lot of creepy people out there, and they all use AltaVista.

3/11/2003 Tuesday 10:10 AM
I feel like I have so little to say these days; I guess I'm in one of those occasional mini-ruts when everything I'd say sounds mundane and I don't have (or take) the time to say it anyway. I'm great, Mariana is great, we're great, the weather is great, the fruit trees are great, and finally being able to garden is great (save for the tomato plant which the dogs have already trampled). I keep thinking, man, you really need to update. It's been all weekend, and you have nothing to say?? Think of something, man, think of something!

That said, I've been feeling a little sappy and sentimental the past few days because of several factors, Mariana's dream included.

Friday day was uneventful. Her observation went well, and then I went to work Friday night, and had a good night.
Saturday night we went out. I had forgotten to bring a paper along, and I was really kinda in a mood to see a flick, but knew we'd only be able to catch a late, midnight-movie showing, and I wasn't sure which theatres do that. A few minutes later, while still driving over the fetch my babeness, I remembered that my cell phone has the "internet access" and an entire menu of movie options. So I scrolled through that for a while, finding all of the information I needed. I swear, gadgets are just the best. Of course, doing this made the phone itself inaccessible, and I found out as soon as I disconnected that Mariana had been trying to call me. It's a tradeoff, I guess.
So we ended up going to Pointe Orlando for the movie, Old School, which started at 11:40. We were cutting it very close, and knew we might even miss the previews and opening credits (which we did). The theatre is a bit oddly laid out. Pointe Orlando itself is oddly laid out, with multiple levels. From the bottom level, ground level I guess, as you approach the theatre itself (which looms above you with several staircases leading to it), you see a small ticket office, which for some reason is always closed and dark. No problem, you say to yourself, the theatre is up there, so that must be where you actually purchase the tickets. So you climb whatever stairs you choose, and only then do you see a sign posted on the grand theatre entrance, telling you that tickets must be purchased downstairs. Huh? You swivel your head, looking back down where you just came from, and only then do you see that the small, dark box office that you passed on the way up, is functional from the other side...ie., the side that you can't see on your way up to the theatre. So yes, we trudged back down the stairs and got out tickets from a woman who evidently didn't realize that mumbling and whispering behind two inches of protective glass made it absolutely impossible to hear anything she said. It was only through lip-reading and gestures that we were able to communicate anything.
We got inside and got our supplies - popcorn, butter and salt, and Coke Icees. This was the second carbonated soda I've had since November, I think, joining the infamous FufuBerry soda from the Sarasota Mall. And it was Mariana's idea! Unfortunately, nobody has yet to devise a simple means of distributing shaken salt evenly into an overflowing bag, so it got a bit top-heavy, and Mariana spent much of the movie trying to shake the bag and disperse the heavier deposits of salt. Oh well. It was a good movie, pleasant and funny, and not quite what I expected to be and not quite with all of the stereotypical characters I expected. And then our night ended.

Sunday was a relaxing day - napping and TV and newspapers and a quick snack before I went to work. Mariana stayed here to work on her PowerPoint presentation while I was at work. It was wonderful to come home to her. Then we watched a bit of the Batman reunion movie, and some other stuff, and then Sunday night was over.

Monday was the usual - a long day at work. A coworker backed into a woman in his vehicle a few days ago, a very minor fender-bender. Initially, she refused his offers to pay for the damage, saying it didn't matter, it wasn't that important and the damage was too inconsequential. A day or two later, though, she changed her mind, and asked him for $200 for damages, or else she would sue him. He reluctantly agreed, though he has been bitching and complaining that she changed her mind from her earlier assurances that she didn't want any money or anything. He's been trying to rally support, too - don't we think it's wrong of her to go back on her word? Should he even pay her? Should he just tell her, sorry, I'll see you in court? Well, we told him, you did cause the damage. She does have the right to seek compensation, even if she did initially refuse it. Nice enough guy, I guess, and I can see where he'd be pissed off, but hey, as he himself has said about his offer to pay and reluctant willingness to pay, right's right. So they made a deal that the money would change hands yesterday at work, and sure enough, she met him up there. He asked me to draw up a little contract, in fact, stating that both parties agree that the $200 he was giving her yesterday would be the only amount she would seek or accept as compensation for any and all damages as a result of that incident on that day. I dressed it all up, of course, adding some legalistic language and making it sound official, and trying my best to include as many specifics as possible. I don't have it memorized, but I think the final product came out something like this:
I, (damaged party) accept $200 from (the guy) for damages to (her vehicle) incurred on (the date of the accident). I agree and understand that no further monies will be exchanged, or sought, by either party or by any party(s) acting on their behalf, nor will any further claims be made by either party, or party(s) acting on their behalf, in connection with the above-stated incident. I agree and understand that this represents the sole and final compensation for any and all damages and losses incurred as a result of the above-stated incident. I then included spaces for both signatures and the signature of a witness, in this case another co-worker.
Apparently she did indeed come up to collect the money, and did sign the little impromptu document. He was profoundly grateful to me for writing it for him, and went back on his way afterwards. I asked Joel later what the legalities of that little contract would be, if for whatever reason she still took him to court. He said, well, first of all, you committed a misdemeanor by practicing law without a license. I nodded and chuckled. Great. I asked him if I was practicing law, should I have gone ahead and charged him the pro-rated hundred bucks an hour or whatever? He then admitted that if it was just small-claims court, that document would be pretty damaging to her case, but then she'd be swimming upstream anyway just trying to prove that it was he who caused the damage, with no police report or anything. (I don't know what witnesses or evidence she has.) So, anyway, that's the sordid tale that is my latest crime.
The guys came over for some PlayStationing last night. I sat and watched and socialized and chatted online occasionally and kicked myself for breaking the tentative plans to fetch Mariana.
She got asked last night to be a bridesmaid for an old friend of hers from high school, whom she hasn't been in frequent contact with for, I guess, several years. So she was a little taken aback at being asked after all this time, which I guess is understandable. That's in November, but I guess it's never too soon to ask. I've been in three weddings - one as a best man (for Joel), one as a groomsman (for Doug), and one as an usher (for Don).

Today I should be cleaning up this office where I sit, to move in a different, larger computer desk which I picked up from a friend who shut down his business a few weeks ago. This will be a mammoth undertaking - stacks of books all over the floor which will have to be gathered up and moved; disassembling the computer system; disassembling the desk on which it sits; uncovering another small desk/table which I think will have to be movied in order to make room for the incoming; and then doing all of that in reverse after moving the new(er) desk in. I've been putting it off for a week or two, but I guess today's the day.

It occurred to me today that if and when there is a second war in Iraq, the Internet will play a role in our viewing of it in ways that wasn't so in the previous Gulf War. We'll all be relying on the Net for news, for downloads of neat images of bombs and battles, and live-action coverage of it all. And we'll take it all for granted. It occurred to me - and astounded me when I realized it - that the Internet as we know it today didn't really even exist during the first Gulf War. It seems like it did, though, doesn't it? Doesn't all the technology baffle you? Don't you recall seeing the films taken from on-board cameras as bombs and missiles sped to their destinations? I do. But I think I've fooled myself into remembering that I saw them online, when in fact I didn't (at the time). It was all TV. That war was notable in that the war was largely covered live on TV; this one will be notable for it being covered live on the Net, using "streaming" technology which wasn't even named or in use just those few years ago. Amazing.

A KeyWord Rankings update. I seem to specialize in carburetors. Ehh, we all have our niche.

3/7/2003 Friday 8:38 AM
Indeed, happy birthday to the Macker! :)

So, Mariana will be doing another observation today. Yesterday was at my old high school. At least this time I was asked to sign my name on a clipboard before being granted access to the parking lot. I didn't wander into the school itself, but Mariana said they seemed kinda strict about people being in the halls after the bells rang. I suppose that's reassuring; maybe I couldn't wander with impunity after all, the way it seemed at University High. I couldn't tell is students are required to wear ID badges or not; I know they are at some local middle schools. Anyway, I really did want to get out and walk around the old school a bit, but I didn't particularly feel like dealing with any hallway Gestapo agents, so I waited outside.

3/7/2003 Friday 12:05 AM
Time for some FridayFive vibe.

1. What was the last song you heard?
"New Attitude," I think by the Pointer Sisters, part of Dr. Laura's theme music. If that counts. (Not able to recall the last piece I heard during today's lessons!)
2. What were the last two movies you saw?
Of movies I saw in their entirety, from opening credits to closing credits, 'Cruel Intentions' (DVD) and the second 'Lord of the Rings' flick (in the theatre). If movies I saw only parts of count, they'd be some bad giant-spiders flick on Sci-Fi tonight, and maybe 15 minutes of 'Millenium' this morning.
3. What were the last three things you purchased?
One 44 oz. iced-tea from a gas station late this afternoon; ten bucks worth of gas this morning; and some brunch for my babeness and me this morning.
4. What four things do you need to do this weekend?
Work as many hours as possible; repay as much of a debt as possible (yes, these two items are connected!); focus on Mariana; and watch 11 hours of 'Buffy' and 'Angel.'
5. Who are the last five people you talked to?
My brother Ed; Monica, a co-worker; my babeness; Mark, a co-worker; Jeff, a co-worker.

3/6/2003 Thursday 9:35 PM
I was at somebody's house tonight. I don't know the people. But when I got there, and aimed for the doorbell, I noticed something handwritten on the wall, right near the doorbell. It said "Fit in!"
I looked for Big Brother, but saw nothing.
Very creepy.

3/4/2003 Tuesday 3:48 PM
I forgot to mention all of the, uh, celebrities who were at MegaCon this weekend. The most famous was Walter Koenig, Chekhov from the original Star Trek series. There are unsubstantiated reports of a blurry, long-distance photograph that somehow managed to capture both yours truly AND Walter Koenig, taken by Mariana without the knowledge or permission of either gentleman. This has yet to be confirmed. There was also the chick from Lexx and a real live porn star. I get Chekhov and the Lexx chick. But I still haven't figured out why the porn star was at a sci-fi/gaming/comics convention. Maybe it's the fact that...they are not real, maybe that's the connection.

3/4/2003 Tuesday 12:27 PM
And I don't even know what "the Big News" is! How out of touch am I??

3/4/2003 Tuesday 11:32 AM
Happy today, my babeness.

Well, Friday was a day. Mariana did her observation at a school, which apparently went fairly uneventfully. I was shocked at the relative lack of security at the school, at least relative to what I expected in this age of paranoid parents and lawsuit-fearing school officials. I was able to drive onto the campus with barely a glance from the security guard, who sat nearly dozing on his golf cart. No sign-in sheets, no writing down of my license plate, no temporary 'Visitor' nametag, no nothing. I coulda been anybody, coulda had any agenda there, and nobody woulda known anything. And I would have been okay with any of that; I wouldn't have reacted like I was being asked for "my papers," as so many of the wackos have been screaming about.
Anyway, that was that. Some lunch, and then onto work. Mariana was over here while I worked.
Saturday we went to the MegaCon at the Convention Center. There was also some huge cheerleading competition there the same day (and a boat show, and likely a myriad other shows and gatherings) and it was sometimes difficult to tell who was there as a cheerleader and who was there for the MegaCon, dressed in some skimpy anime' character's costume. And there were PLENTY of costumes there, I was surprised. Mostly anime' and Star Wars characters. The Star Wars folks I was able to identify - Darth Vader was there, and Obi-Won Kenobi, and Darth Maul, and young Anakin Skywalker, and many stormtroopers. I don't know nothing about no anime' characters, so I couldn't identify them as easily. You just have to wonder about someone who would go to those lengths just to go to a convention. I alternately think it's pretty cool, and pretty twisted. Can't decide. But some of the costumes were spectacular.
It was plenty crowded. Unfortunately I didnt' have as much cash to drop as I had planned, so I couldn't splurge on the Buffy merchandise. I ended up with two t-shirts and two comics. There were perhaps two or three vendors in the entire place who stocked Buffy and Angel comics. Unreal. Mariana got some Sailor Moon stuff and some other assorted goodies, so we both left satisfied. It was pretty hectic. I had to work Saturday night, so we left.
I go the pay-per-view of the Roy Jones fight Saturday night, which I've been looking forward to for weeks. I was thrilled to see Jones win, even though John Ruiz was a bum and not the 'real' heavyweight champion. I'm galled to see Jones continually get so much criticism for his career, for his choice of opponents. The guys who really hate Jones will NEVER change their minds, no matter what he does. The fact that the guy started his career at jr.middle, and eventually has won a title at heavyweight, five weight classes heavier, and has won titles in four weight non-consecutive weight classes, somehow means nothing. Unreal. So, we watched that, and that was it for Saturday.
Sunday was uneventful. Puttered and enjoyed a rainy Sunday at home. Dropped Mariana off after work Sunday night. She took most of her goodies home, but left the disembodied hand of Ringo Starr in the Jeep. I'll have to do something with it, I can't have that thing rolling around back there for too much longer.
Worked all day yesterday, in the rain. Kept raining last night, too. And that's okay with me! I was pretty spent in the evening, and bedded myself around 11:45 or so. TimeWarner was down most of the night, which meant no TV and no internet access. So I plopped on the couch and read the newspapers while the guys PlayStationed, and then went to bed. Didn't get a chance to reconnect with Mariana before I went to bed; I got online when the cable came back on, around 11:30, but she was already dozing.

Today...it's already noon! Wow. I had planned to do some gardening, or at least to go to a nursery or a Home Depot to get some fertilizers, soil, and maybe some tomato and pepper plants. It's time to start planting! YAY! Spring is springing all over. The mango tree is indeed putting out new shoots, below the frozen, dead tips. Probably no buds for fruit, but at least there are new green leaves shooting out of the limbs. All of the citrus trees are covered with blossoms, even the dreaded Key lime, which has never done anything. The starfruit is putting out new leaves from the limbs (which had been bare after dropping all of the dead, frozen leaves). The fig tree is putting out its new leaves. The plum and peach trees are covered with new leaves and baby fruits. The passionfruit vines are completely dead, a mass of brown, crumbly leaves on the fence, but I think the trunks themselves are still alive underneath. I'm not too sure about the papaya. I know it's still alive, but the dead leaves and fruit are still on tree, and it's roof-level, so I can't see yet if any new leaves are starting to appear. Even the banana trees have some new leaves curling out of them.
I swear, that Mother Nature is a tough old bird. But then again, she's the one who kilt everything, too, so there you go.

Baseball player Manny Ramirez has been nicknamed (at least on Jim Rome's radio show) "Man Ram." Or perhaps "ManRam," or maybe just "Manram."
I just can't decide if I'd like that nickname.

KeyWord Rankings updates. Sexy vampires and flaming Trans-Ams. What a great party THAT would be!