Author: miri

The leak detectors found two leaks under my house – none where the original plumber thought there was a leak. They also found a “foreign object” in a pipe under my kitchen floor. They think it’s an old cable or something. I have no idea what this means…

Such sad news…Joe Strummer has passed away. The day I listened to London Calling, I wanted to throw away every other record I owned – it was that good. For awhile, I didn’t think the tag “the only band that matters” was hype at all. In November Joe and Mick Jones and performed together for the first time since the band’s bitter break-up. They were to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in March 2003. There was hope of a reunion for the show. Too bad that can’t happen now. So long, Joe.

So, the insurance adjustor came this morning. It looks like my foundation is shifting. Weee – this is going to be fun.

You know it’s been a long and stressful day when the following occurs:

You get home from work and say hello to your next door neighbor who is from Germany. You, for some reason, have a degree in German, but you’ve forgotten most of it over the years. After talking to your neighbor, however, you find yourself playing that old favorite game of making up German words by adding a “ge” to the start and an “en” to the end of English words. You head to the bedroom to get out of work clothes and as you take off your bra, you think “boobgefallen.”

That”s it…I hope this new project at work finishes up soon and is successful.

The wonders of technology: If TiVo Thinks You Are Gay; Amazon removes link in sex manual flap.

This is amusing… in a sad way.

Talk about disoriented. When I woke up today, I swore it was Sunday. I was all ready to snuggle back under the covers and get more sleep when I realized…nope, ’tis Tuesday. Now, I can understand the occasional sleep-induced-wishful-thinking-haze of thinking Thursday is Friday, but mistaking Tuesday for Sunday? When I went to work on Monday? That’s just odd.

I still have my magnetic poetry bits and pieces on my refrigerator. All arranged by letter – thanks to dad. He wrote two little bits himself:
“ferocious animals home here”

And, my favorite…because it’s a good memory of him:
“remember never speak to the wild men
but like the fool”

As if it’s not bad enough that there’s piped in Muzak here at work, it has now turned into Muzak Christmas carols. Please, someone, keep me from going postal…

I don’t see how garment makers can get away with putting this on their labels: “Wash in cold water on gentle cycle; cool iron when needed.” When what they really mean is: “Wash in cold water on gentle cycle; be prepared to iron for hours on end if you ever want to wear this in public again.”