Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Procrastination Nation

If they handed out gold medals for the best intentions with the least perceptible results, I'd win by a landslide. Counting the number of posts I have sitting half-finished in the draft bin, I should start a new WIP site (works in progress). Take it from me, there is some good stuff in there. Now, if I only had the time to finish some of them...

Blog Olympics? I lost. No big surprise. One gold medal, lots of silvers. One "did not participate" because in my haze I printed preview in the comments and not post so it never showed up for real. Doh.

I'm one Friday Feast, one Unconscious Mutterings and two fabulous weekend stories behind. I won't vouch for the memes (it seems silly to post them so far after the deadline), but I Girl Scout Promise I'll post the other two.

Meanwhile, the Oscar Nominations are out. I'll be hosting an online pool again (the site said it would be up by Friday) so get ready to consult your ouiji board. Of the Best Picture nominations I've seen exactly one (Crash), because I joined Netflix, also known as the only way GreenTuna will ever manage to see a grownup movie. Where movie-watching is concerned, I'm a wee bit behind.

I'm off to resume teaching. In the meanwhile, talk amongst yourselves. I'll be back.

Procrastination Nation

If they handed out gold medals for the best intentions with the least perceptible results, I'd win by a landslide. Counting the number of posts I have sitting half-finished in the draft bin, I should start a new WIP site (works in progress). Take it from me, there is some good stuff in there. Now, if I only had the time to finish some of them...

Blog Olympics? I lost. No big surprise. One gold medal, lots of silvers. One "did not participate" because in my haze I printed preview in the comments and not post so it never showed up for real. Doh.

I'm one Friday Feast, one Unconscious Mutterings and two fabulous weekend stories behind. I won't vouch for the memes (it seems silly to post them so far after the deadline), but I Girl Scout Promise I'll post the other two.

Meanwhile, the Oscar Nominations are out. I'll be hosting an online pool again (the site said it would be up by Friday) so get ready to consult your ouiji board. Of the Best Picture nominations I've seen exactly one (Crash), because I joined Netflix, also known as the only way GreenTuna will ever manage to see a grownup movie. Where movie-watching is concerned, I'm a wee bit behind.

I'm off to resume teaching. In the meanwhile, talk amongst yourselves. I'll be back.

Thursday, January 26, 2006

Sixty Minute Warning

If I would have know that TWO STUDENTS IN A ROW WERE NOT GOING TO SHOW UP I could have:

1. Gotten up and walked around.
2. Had lunch in a leisurely manner, meaning something longer than 90 seconds.
3. Posted.
4. Finished my three or four other posts that are currently saved as draft.
5. Posted.
6. Done anything constructive.
7. Gotten up and walked around some more.
8. Gone to the bathroom.
9. Got another Diet Coke to get me through the afternoon.
10. Napped.
11. Practiced.
12. Not wasted an hour wondering when and if anybody might show up.

Students. You can't live with 'em. You can't kill 'em.
But you CAN flunk 'em.

Bwah ha and ha.

Sixty Minute Warning

If I would have know that TWO STUDENTS IN A ROW WERE NOT GOING TO SHOW UP I could have:

1. Gotten up and walked around.
2. Had lunch in a leisurely manner, meaning something longer than 90 seconds.
3. Posted.
4. Finished my three or four other posts that are currently saved as draft.
5. Posted.
6. Done anything constructive.
7. Gotten up and walked around some more.
8. Gone to the bathroom.
9. Got another Diet Coke to get me through the afternoon.
10. Napped.
11. Practiced.
12. Not wasted an hour wondering when and if anybody might show up.

Students. You can't live with 'em. You can't kill 'em.
But you CAN flunk 'em.

Bwah ha and ha.

Monday, January 23, 2006

Blog Olympics - Day Two



A champion blogger makes frequent updates to their blog. How often do you update your blog?

As of today my blog is 856 -- or 205,440 Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgeralds -- days old, which earned me a gold medal (top 10%) in yesterday's competition. According to Blogger, I have posted 959 entries, meaning I update once every .893 days.

You might think that's good, but I'm getting smoked in this round by people with 36 day-old blogs that have posted 579 times. Yeah, I remember those days too. I believe that was BEFORE THE FLOOD.

I'll have to be contented with a Silver Medal for day two (neither top 10% nor bottom 10%) and come out swinging on day three.


Silver medal for frequency

Blog Olympics - Day Two



A champion blogger makes frequent updates to their blog. How often do you update your blog?

As of today my blog is 856 -- or 205,440 Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgeralds -- days old, which earned me a gold medal (top 10%) in yesterday's competition. According to Blogger, I have posted 959 entries, meaning I update once every .893 days.

You might think that's good, but I'm getting smoked in this round by people with 36 day-old blogs that have posted 579 times. Yeah, I remember those days too. I believe that was BEFORE THE FLOOD.

I'll have to be contented with a Silver Medal for day two (neither top 10% nor bottom 10%) and come out swinging on day three.


Silver medal for frequency

Flushing Out the Windmills of my Mind

Or then again, maybe I DID write a blog about a toilet seat.
I have to admit TinyTuna was right.

It was Love with a Flush.

Flushing Out the Windmills of my Mind

Or then again, maybe I DID write a blog about a toilet seat.
I have to admit TinyTuna was right.

It was Love with a Flush.

When Spellcheckers Fail

Notes from the Inbox:

Date: January 23, 2006

SUBJECT: I had a Hit Fog for lunch


Dear Mother,
How are you? I hope you got my other e-mail. Like in my title, I had the Hot Dog combo for lunch. I hope that was OK. I miss you so much and I have science and spelling words to bring home that I know of so far. I miss you and I can't wait to see you. I also need to work at science because I am pulling a B+. I love you and I want to see you as soon as I wish to.

Question: Did you really write a blog about a toilet seat?

Love with a flush
TinyTuna


Well, she may have had the Hit Fog for lunch, but she needs to stay away from the crack cream pie for dessert. And, NO, I didn't write a blog about a toilet seat (but I did go back and check because all of a sudden I wondered if maybe I did).

Love with a flush,
GreenTuna

When Spellcheckers Fail

Notes from the Inbox:

Date: January 23, 2006

SUBJECT: I had a Hit Fog for lunch


Dear Mother,
How are you? I hope you got my other e-mail. Like in my title, I had the Hot Dog combo for lunch. I hope that was OK. I miss you so much and I have science and spelling words to bring home that I know of so far. I miss you and I can't wait to see you. I also need to work at science because I am pulling a B+. I love you and I want to see you as soon as I wish to.

Question: Did you really write a blog about a toilet seat?

Love with a flush
TinyTuna


Well, she may have had the Hit Fog for lunch, but she needs to stay away from the crack cream pie for dessert. And, NO, I didn't write a blog about a toilet seat (but I did go back and check because all of a sudden I wondered if maybe I did).

Love with a flush,
GreenTuna

Sunday, January 22, 2006

Blog Olympics - Day One



For the next seven days I will be participating in the Blog Olympics. I have no idea what to expect each day. I only know to get my instructions at 10:00 pm sharp. Today's event:

A champion blogger is in it for the long haul, and can prove it. How old is your blog?

My first entrance into the world of blogging occurred on September 21, 2003. According to the very helpful Days Since website my blog is (drumroll, please)


855 days old


If you figure one complete vocal rendition of The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald is six minutes long (even though everybody who knows ANYTHING about The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald (vocally speaking ) knows it is actually six minutes and fourteen seconds long (but can you imagine the enormous difficulty of the division here? It's mindnumbing. So figure it's six minutes and fourteen seconds long, but you forgot fourteen seconds of the song. Or sang it a little faster because you had something else to do), then my blog is officially

205,200
Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald

songs old


Damn. And Wow.
Better start singing.


Gold Medal winner for Longevity.

Blog Olympics - Day One



For the next seven days I will be participating in the Blog Olympics. I have no idea what to expect each day. I only know to get my instructions at 10:00 pm sharp. Today's event:

A champion blogger is in it for the long haul, and can prove it. How old is your blog?

My first entrance into the world of blogging occurred on September 21, 2003. According to the very helpful Days Since website my blog is (drumroll, please)


855 days old


If you figure one complete vocal rendition of The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald is six minutes long (even though everybody who knows ANYTHING about The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald (vocally speaking ) knows it is actually six minutes and fourteen seconds long (but can you imagine the enormous difficulty of the division here? It's mindnumbing. So figure it's six minutes and fourteen seconds long, but you forgot fourteen seconds of the song. Or sang it a little faster because you had something else to do), then my blog is officially

205,200
Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald

songs old


Damn. And Wow.
Better start singing.


Gold Medal winner for Longevity.

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think:


1. Alone :: Solitary

2. Science :: Biology

3. Deposit :: Slip

4. Faithful :: Old

5. Tender :: Juicy

6. Chocolate :: Covered Raisins

7. Homework :: We just finished!

8. Tamper :: Proof

9. Friend :: Pal

10. Wire :: Telegram


Well, let's see. Much of the answers on this list came about from recent Tuna events. I finished up a small bag of chocolate covered raisins today. To be truthful, I had three, and TinyTuna took the rest. I hate it when we like the same snack. We went to The Bones for dinner tonight, and had some fabulous (and always both tender and juicy) pulled pork. TinyTuna just finished her math homework which was a rousing worksheet of finding the area of triangles. Nowadays you can't just do the math and be done with it. Oh no -- now there has to be a puzzle or coloring project to be completed along with the math, resulting in either some lovely picture, or punny answer to a bad joke. To wit, today's joke:

Question: When the smog lifts in Los Angeles, what do you see?
Answer: U C L A
har har har har har har. Bleah.

Oh well. I guess it makes more sense than seeing Old Faithful.

Mutter along HERE.

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think:


1. Alone :: Solitary

2. Science :: Biology

3. Deposit :: Slip

4. Faithful :: Old

5. Tender :: Juicy

6. Chocolate :: Covered Raisins

7. Homework :: We just finished!

8. Tamper :: Proof

9. Friend :: Pal

10. Wire :: Telegram


Well, let's see. Much of the answers on this list came about from recent Tuna events. I finished up a small bag of chocolate covered raisins today. To be truthful, I had three, and TinyTuna took the rest. I hate it when we like the same snack. We went to The Bones for dinner tonight, and had some fabulous (and always both tender and juicy) pulled pork. TinyTuna just finished her math homework which was a rousing worksheet of finding the area of triangles. Nowadays you can't just do the math and be done with it. Oh no -- now there has to be a puzzle or coloring project to be completed along with the math, resulting in either some lovely picture, or punny answer to a bad joke. To wit, today's joke:

Question: When the smog lifts in Los Angeles, what do you see?
Answer: U C L A
har har har har har har. Bleah.

Oh well. I guess it makes more sense than seeing Old Faithful.

Mutter along HERE.

Friday, January 20, 2006

A Big Wet Sloppy One for TinyTuna

This one is for TinyTuna, Giraffe-lover that she is.



Photo lovingly lifted from Cute Overload,
who set their cute phasers on stun today
when they posted a picture of......

The PANDA!

A Big Wet Sloppy One for TinyTuna

This one is for TinyTuna, Giraffe-lover that she is.



Photo lovingly lifted from Cute Overload,
who set their cute phasers on stun today
when they posted a picture of......

The PANDA!

Friday's Feast

It's officially Friday, except this is more like a Thursday night midnight snack...

Appetizer: About how many times a day do you check your email?
Once. I bring up my email when I get up, and keep it up all day long.

Soup: If you had the money to collect something really valuable, what would it be?
First of all, I just don't GET the whole thing about collectables. Oh sure, I understand the premise. But why buy a bunch of stuff for the sole purpose of never touching it? Books are meant to be read and toys are meant to be played with (but Revolutionary-era hutches should never be refinished, unless you are prepared to take the hazing from the experts on Antiques Roadshow).

However, in answer to the question, I think I would collect art. At least that way I could hang it on my wall and enjoy it.

Salad: Write a sentence using the letters of your favorite beverage.
Lordy.

M
onday Is Kickoff - Each Slosher

Hoists Alotta Really Delicious

Lemonade Everyday Meaning Oh, Nothing And Determining Everything.

Main Course: If you could be on a game show, which one would you want it to be?
"The 'Forget the Game' and Let's Just Give GreenTuna a Billion Dollars now" Show. (Or Jeopardy).

Dessert: Name three computer programs or websites you would hate to be without.
Google -- Blogger -- Finale

Friday's Feast

It's officially Friday, except this is more like a Thursday night midnight snack...

Appetizer: About how many times a day do you check your email?
Once. I bring up my email when I get up, and keep it up all day long.

Soup: If you had the money to collect something really valuable, what would it be?
First of all, I just don't GET the whole thing about collectables. Oh sure, I understand the premise. But why buy a bunch of stuff for the sole purpose of never touching it? Books are meant to be read and toys are meant to be played with (but Revolutionary-era hutches should never be refinished, unless you are prepared to take the hazing from the experts on Antiques Roadshow).

However, in answer to the question, I think I would collect art. At least that way I could hang it on my wall and enjoy it.

Salad: Write a sentence using the letters of your favorite beverage.
Lordy.

M
onday Is Kickoff - Each Slosher

Hoists Alotta Really Delicious

Lemonade Everyday Meaning Oh, Nothing And Determining Everything.

Main Course: If you could be on a game show, which one would you want it to be?
"The 'Forget the Game' and Let's Just Give GreenTuna a Billion Dollars now" Show. (Or Jeopardy).

Dessert: Name three computer programs or websites you would hate to be without.
Google -- Blogger -- Finale

Thursday, January 19, 2006

Verbing with the Stars

After having missed day two of the American Idol screech-a-thon auditions, I did manage to catch another new reality show: Skating with Celebrities. I can only assume it was similar to the summertime hit, Dancing with the Stars, a show I only watched in passing on the way to anything else.

Skating with celebrities featured six pairs of skaters, each of which was made up of one professional and one celebrity. For each pair they played a "Ha Ha! Ho Ho! Gosh, watch those celebs fall down a lot!" video, and then the pair would come out and skate their number. It seems the point of the video was to highlight how far the celebrity had come in removing his or her personal curse of Zamboni butt and scraped knee.

Wearing Garanimalesque costumes that matched their song, each pair made their entrance. Skating onto the ice with full dramatic flair (read: they didn't fall down), they took their place. But once the music started, the celebrity was pretty much relegated to just standing the hell still while the professional skated circles around them. In actual circles. Celebrity Bruce Jenner did an excellent impersonation of a slightly graying semi-muscular tree while Tai Babilonia twirled and spun and jumped. Occasionally he'd stick out his arm to catch her, but that was about it.

The judging panel concept was lifted personality by personality from American Idol. Dorothy Hamill played the role of Paula Abdul, providing perky, inspirational comments. She was joined by some guy (The website tells me "on-air personality and founder of International Skater magazine Mark Lund." I say WHOOOO?) who appeared to be fairly neutral throughout the entire proceedings, and obligatory curmudgeon Sir John Nicks ("World Figure Skating Hall of Famer and renowned figure skating coach..." -- I know. WHOOO?).

It was obvious the crowd had been primed ahead of time to boo the curmudgeon every time he opened his mouth, which got old fast. Although he dutifully dissed each pair ("you should change programs. IMMEDIATELY!"), his sad attempt at snark couldn't hold a candle to Dick Buttons, the True Dark Lord of Cranky Ice Judges.

I will admit I'm guilty of watching my share of unredeemable television, but if it's Skating with Celebrities today, what will it be tomorrow? Maybe Mozart with Millionaires, with musicians doing the bulk of the work while celebrities perform the tricky tacet sections. Or Shakespeare for Stars, with Kenneth Branagh stepping in for those tricky three syllable words. Fie! It rhymes with Pie!

If I have a hankering to spend an hour with beginners, my local access television channels are chock-full of elementary school music concerts. And if that doesn't work, I'm sure I could get TinyTuna to whip up the 12,539th rendition of Arkansas Traveler. I'm sure she'd be glad to play it for me. Hard notes and all.

Verbing with the Stars

After having missed day two of the American Idol screech-a-thon auditions, I did manage to catch another new reality show: Skating with Celebrities. I can only assume it was similar to the summertime hit, Dancing with the Stars, a show I only watched in passing on the way to anything else.

Skating with celebrities featured six pairs of skaters, each of which was made up of one professional and one celebrity. For each pair they played a "Ha Ha! Ho Ho! Gosh, watch those celebs fall down a lot!" video, and then the pair would come out and skate their number. It seems the point of the video was to highlight how far the celebrity had come in removing his or her personal curse of Zamboni butt and scraped knee.

Wearing Garanimalesque costumes that matched their song, each pair made their entrance. Skating onto the ice with full dramatic flair (read: they didn't fall down), they took their place. But once the music started, the celebrity was pretty much relegated to just standing the hell still while the professional skated circles around them. In actual circles. Celebrity Bruce Jenner did an excellent impersonation of a slightly graying semi-muscular tree while Tai Babilonia twirled and spun and jumped. Occasionally he'd stick out his arm to catch her, but that was about it.

The judging panel concept was lifted personality by personality from American Idol. Dorothy Hamill played the role of Paula Abdul, providing perky, inspirational comments. She was joined by some guy (The website tells me "on-air personality and founder of International Skater magazine Mark Lund." I say WHOOOO?) who appeared to be fairly neutral throughout the entire proceedings, and obligatory curmudgeon Sir John Nicks ("World Figure Skating Hall of Famer and renowned figure skating coach..." -- I know. WHOOO?).

It was obvious the crowd had been primed ahead of time to boo the curmudgeon every time he opened his mouth, which got old fast. Although he dutifully dissed each pair ("you should change programs. IMMEDIATELY!"), his sad attempt at snark couldn't hold a candle to Dick Buttons, the True Dark Lord of Cranky Ice Judges.

I will admit I'm guilty of watching my share of unredeemable television, but if it's Skating with Celebrities today, what will it be tomorrow? Maybe Mozart with Millionaires, with musicians doing the bulk of the work while celebrities perform the tricky tacet sections. Or Shakespeare for Stars, with Kenneth Branagh stepping in for those tricky three syllable words. Fie! It rhymes with Pie!

If I have a hankering to spend an hour with beginners, my local access television channels are chock-full of elementary school music concerts. And if that doesn't work, I'm sure I could get TinyTuna to whip up the 12,539th rendition of Arkansas Traveler. I'm sure she'd be glad to play it for me. Hard notes and all.

Monday, January 16, 2006

We Shall Overcome On Our Lunch Hour

Today was a national holiday in celebration of the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Diversity committees were formed, classes were cancelled and events were planned for the university community.

Except staff. Staff had to work.

I don't understand a day when we're all supposed to be celebrating but many people are not afforded that luxury. Celebrate diversity! Rejoice in the progress we the people have made! Re-energize as a community to continue the fight for peace and equality! Be sure to bring your sack lunch because this is all on YOUR nickel, not ours! Peace Out!

It's the year 2006 and we have a National holiday chock-full of activities we are not allowed to attend. It's the year 2006 and our nation is in the midst of a war we are not allowed to question because to ask the hard questions is irresponsible partisanship that demoralizes the troops and lets the terrorists win. It is the year 2006, and we are still mired in a two-faced "do as I say and not as I do" kind of existence that is both tiresome and insulting.

We the people. But which people?
Freedom of speech. But which words?

It's the year 2006. Take a look around.
We have a long, long way to go.

We Shall Overcome On Our Lunch Hour

Today was a national holiday in celebration of the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Diversity committees were formed, classes were cancelled and events were planned for the university community.

Except staff. Staff had to work.

I don't understand a day when we're all supposed to be celebrating but many people are not afforded that luxury. Celebrate diversity! Rejoice in the progress we the people have made! Re-energize as a community to continue the fight for peace and equality! Be sure to bring your sack lunch because this is all on YOUR nickel, not ours! Peace Out!

It's the year 2006 and we have a National holiday chock-full of activities we are not allowed to attend. It's the year 2006 and our nation is in the midst of a war we are not allowed to question because to ask the hard questions is irresponsible partisanship that demoralizes the troops and lets the terrorists win. It is the year 2006, and we are still mired in a two-faced "do as I say and not as I do" kind of existence that is both tiresome and insulting.

We the people. But which people?
Freedom of speech. But which words?

It's the year 2006. Take a look around.
We have a long, long way to go.

Sunday, January 15, 2006

Ooey Gooey Chewie on the Inside

I'm becoming a softie.

Several times a day I run to Cute Overload to check out CUTE baby bunnies, CUTE baby kittens and CUTE baby other stuff cohabitating with CUTE baby other stuff. The caps-lock AWWWW factor is just about more than any mortal could bear, but I cannot help it. I have to have my cute picture fix every single day.

Last week I was thoroughly entranced with the soundtrack to the 2005 Broadway musical The Light in the Piazza. Tagged as "The most romantic musical since West Side Story" it doesn't disappoint. Generally I would roll my eyes, stick out my tongue and make gagging noises with lines like "With you I am all happiness...There is no unhappiness with you." But the more I listened, the more enchanted I became. Instead of insufferable schmaltz, I found the score and lyrics to be entirely enchanting.

Softie.

Last week TinyTuna and I sat down and watched the movie Tuck Everlasting. I thought it was great. I had no problem accepting the premise of the story, and thought there were some wonderfully thought provoking moments. After the movie, I went online to check out some external reviews, and I was disappointed to discover several critics came down squarely on the thumbs down side of the review. The common complaint was the film's heavy handed treacleness and implausibility.

I hate treacle, but I loved this movie. What was wrong with me?

The Soprano persona is one of acerbic wit, usually offered at the expense of others. We are known as Rottweilers in pearls, and in all honesty, I'm not totally against that generalization. After all, if altos are matronly, tenors are vain and basses are slow, it's only fair that sopranos be painted with the same wide brush of over-generalization.

So how come I was suddenly becoming a soft, ooey gooey mess?

Just when I started to despair, I found myself in church this morning. Listening to the "Ah Ahhh!" soloist getting buried by the choir (but IN MY DEFENSE, the dynamic marking was ff which is short for GET OUT OF MY WAY), my un-censored, un-Christian thought was, "Well, if she can't be heard, it's her own damn fault."

Praise the Lord and pass the pearls.
I was cured.

Ooey Gooey Chewie on the Inside

I'm becoming a softie.

Several times a day I run to Cute Overload to check out CUTE baby bunnies, CUTE baby kittens and CUTE baby other stuff cohabitating with CUTE baby other stuff. The caps-lock AWWWW factor is just about more than any mortal could bear, but I cannot help it. I have to have my cute picture fix every single day.

Last week I was thoroughly entranced with the soundtrack to the 2005 Broadway musical The Light in the Piazza. Tagged as "The most romantic musical since West Side Story" it doesn't disappoint. Generally I would roll my eyes, stick out my tongue and make gagging noises with lines like "With you I am all happiness...There is no unhappiness with you." But the more I listened, the more enchanted I became. Instead of insufferable schmaltz, I found the score and lyrics to be entirely enchanting.

Softie.

Last week TinyTuna and I sat down and watched the movie Tuck Everlasting. I thought it was great. I had no problem accepting the premise of the story, and thought there were some wonderfully thought provoking moments. After the movie, I went online to check out some external reviews, and I was disappointed to discover several critics came down squarely on the thumbs down side of the review. The common complaint was the film's heavy handed treacleness and implausibility.

I hate treacle, but I loved this movie. What was wrong with me?

The Soprano persona is one of acerbic wit, usually offered at the expense of others. We are known as Rottweilers in pearls, and in all honesty, I'm not totally against that generalization. After all, if altos are matronly, tenors are vain and basses are slow, it's only fair that sopranos be painted with the same wide brush of over-generalization.

So how come I was suddenly becoming a soft, ooey gooey mess?

Just when I started to despair, I found myself in church this morning. Listening to the "Ah Ahhh!" soloist getting buried by the choir (but IN MY DEFENSE, the dynamic marking was ff which is short for GET OUT OF MY WAY), my un-censored, un-Christian thought was, "Well, if she can't be heard, it's her own damn fault."

Praise the Lord and pass the pearls.
I was cured.

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think:


1. Paralyzed :: Immobile
2. Bossy :: McBossy
3. Worth :: Value
4. Breathing :: Necessary
5. Uneventful :: No disasters
6. Return :: Bring Back
7. Splint :: Broken Bone
8. Notice :: Two-weeks
9. Hero :: Where?
10. Vulnerable :: Open


Possibly the most boring list ever compiled. Mea culpa.

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think:


1. Paralyzed :: Immobile
2. Bossy :: McBossy
3. Worth :: Value
4. Breathing :: Necessary
5. Uneventful :: No disasters
6. Return :: Bring Back
7. Splint :: Broken Bone
8. Notice :: Two-weeks
9. Hero :: Where?
10. Vulnerable :: Open


Possibly the most boring list ever compiled. Mea culpa.

Saturday, January 14, 2006

Fodder

Tonight at Casa de Tuna we celebrated another birthday. After dinner and dessert, my six-year old nephew was telling me about watching Mrs. Doubtfire on TV last night.

"And it was so funny! He dressed up like a lady and wore a dress and pantyho and everything!"

"He wore a dress and WHAT?" I asked, wanting to hear it again.

"Pantyho," my nephew replied.

His mom started laughing and we guessed "pantyho" was the singular form of "pantyhose". I didn't find this unusual, since TinyTuna used "clo" as a singular form of "clothes" and spoke often of her "pant-sleeve" instead of her "pant-leg."

When my nephew figured out we were laughing at his expense, he got all uppity as only a first grader can get.

"What's the matter with that?" He asked, as he stood to give a demonstration. Reaching down to his toe as if he were going to put on a pair of No-Nonsense he said,

"First you put on the panty...."

and then performing a viscious two handed yank as if his imaginary pair was several sizes too small, he added,

"then you PULL UP THE HO."

"I smell a blog entry," GramTuna laughed.

"You got that right. Thanks for the writing material little buddy."

Fodder

Tonight at Casa de Tuna we celebrated another birthday. After dinner and dessert, my six-year old nephew was telling me about watching Mrs. Doubtfire on TV last night.

"And it was so funny! He dressed up like a lady and wore a dress and pantyho and everything!"

"He wore a dress and WHAT?" I asked, wanting to hear it again.

"Pantyho," my nephew replied.

His mom started laughing and we guessed "pantyho" was the singular form of "pantyhose". I didn't find this unusual, since TinyTuna used "clo" as a singular form of "clothes" and spoke often of her "pant-sleeve" instead of her "pant-leg."

When my nephew figured out we were laughing at his expense, he got all uppity as only a first grader can get.

"What's the matter with that?" He asked, as he stood to give a demonstration. Reaching down to his toe as if he were going to put on a pair of No-Nonsense he said,

"First you put on the panty...."

and then performing a viscious two handed yank as if his imaginary pair was several sizes too small, he added,

"then you PULL UP THE HO."

"I smell a blog entry," GramTuna laughed.

"You got that right. Thanks for the writing material little buddy."

Friday, January 13, 2006

Friday's Feast

It's been awhile, eh? Well, it's Feasting Time, 2006-Style.

Appetizer: Name one chore you really don't mind doing
Petting the cat. Fixing a snack. Checking my email. Plucking the bunny.
OK, OK, I bet it wants a real chore. How about: Snow blowing the driveway? Because I can. Except today. It's 47 degrees and raining.

Soup: How many times have you moved homes in your life?
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

Salad: How old were you when you had your very first kiss?
I bet I was one day old. Grownups LOVE babies!

Main Course: What time of day do you usually feel your best?
Given having enough sleep (sometimes not so much of a given), I am definitely a morning person. The longer the day goes, the tireder I get.

Dessert: Using three words or less, describe your current local weather.
It's
raining
men
(except without the men part)

Friday's Feast

It's been awhile, eh? Well, it's Feasting Time, 2006-Style.

Appetizer: Name one chore you really don't mind doing
Petting the cat. Fixing a snack. Checking my email. Plucking the bunny.
OK, OK, I bet it wants a real chore. How about: Snow blowing the driveway? Because I can. Except today. It's 47 degrees and raining.

Soup: How many times have you moved homes in your life?
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

Salad: How old were you when you had your very first kiss?
I bet I was one day old. Grownups LOVE babies!

Main Course: What time of day do you usually feel your best?
Given having enough sleep (sometimes not so much of a given), I am definitely a morning person. The longer the day goes, the tireder I get.

Dessert: Using three words or less, describe your current local weather.
It's
raining
men
(except without the men part)

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Forever in Blue Jeans

Amongst the many things I do not yet own, an an iPod is at the top of my list. I can't say that I crave one, but I will cop to mildly wanting one, mostly because everybody else has one. I justify my techno-envy by ticking off all the wondrous things I could do with it. Admittedly, up to now I haven't particularly missed NOT doing all these wondrous things, but iPods are out there, luring me with sleek whiteness and looking very, very cool.

Another reason I do not yet own an iPod is because if I bought one, I would have to buy the BIGGEST iPod in the Pod Kingdom. My reasoning is, if I'm going to plunk down good money for a cool, sleek , gotta have it iPod, I want it to be the coolest, sleekest, biggest Gig-est iPod they make, which, for those of you playing along, is a 60 Gig Video iPod for the low low (snort) price of $399.

Sweet!

But I'm not ready to plunk down $400, and it seems that iPods NEVER go on sale, so I continue to make do, walking through life Podless.

It seems, though, when I'm ready to commit, not only will I need an iPod, I'll also need an entirely new wardrobe able to accommodate my new life as an iPodamaniac. First, I'll need a TuneBuckle



which seems to present several problems right off the bat. First of all, I'm pretty sure the buckle doesn't come with the flat stomach, and you may complete that thought however you like. But suffice it to say, 1. I don't want to have to go digging around for the thing, and 2. How many pieces of cake will it take before it become a hands-free device and you can appear on the "Stupid Human Tricks" segment of The Letterman show? Secondly, an iPod on your gut pretty much defeats the purpose of watching last night's episode of Lost, unless you're playing it for your golden retriever. But hey, gotta have the buckle, right?

Not to be outdone, Levi Strauss has announced a new line of blue jeans designed to be iPod compatible. "But weren't they already compatible? Didn't they have pockets?" I hear you cry. Yes, they had pockets. But pockets are to jeans as Pong is to Video games. Scoffing at the thought of mortal pockets, Levis has designed jeans with "an integrated iPod remote control, as well as an iPod dock and retractable earphones."

(I think iPod dock means pocket, but being Podless, I really don't know)

Question: With all these electronics and wires hanging from various denim orifices, what happens if it rains?

To complete the ensemble -- or more specifically, to provide a foundation upon which to build -- there are also iPod Boxers to be had. (Website not for the weak-hearted, especially if you use the "zoom in" feature)



What an amazing country we live in when our skivvies are specially designed to hold our toys. And the best design detail? Operational instructions on the waistband...just in case you forget!!



When TinyTuna and I study for her Social Studies test in "cultures" I'm going to tell her about "free enterprise" and how, in the great 50 states, underwear makers are allowed -- nay, encouraged -- to design, manufacture and profit from iPod Undies. Free from governmental control. God Bless America!

You have to wonder what's next. Socks with USB ports? Shoelaces that double as wireless routers? With iPod pants and belts and underoos, the burning question is which Pod pocket and clothing caddy will you choose, and which will you leave behind?

I bet the only answer is to buy three.

Forever in Blue Jeans

Amongst the many things I do not yet own, an an iPod is at the top of my list. I can't say that I crave one, but I will cop to mildly wanting one, mostly because everybody else has one. I justify my techno-envy by ticking off all the wondrous things I could do with it. Admittedly, up to now I haven't particularly missed NOT doing all these wondrous things, but iPods are out there, luring me with sleek whiteness and looking very, very cool.

Another reason I do not yet own an iPod is because if I bought one, I would have to buy the BIGGEST iPod in the Pod Kingdom. My reasoning is, if I'm going to plunk down good money for a cool, sleek , gotta have it iPod, I want it to be the coolest, sleekest, biggest Gig-est iPod they make, which, for those of you playing along, is a 60 Gig Video iPod for the low low (snort) price of $399.

Sweet!

But I'm not ready to plunk down $400, and it seems that iPods NEVER go on sale, so I continue to make do, walking through life Podless.

It seems, though, when I'm ready to commit, not only will I need an iPod, I'll also need an entirely new wardrobe able to accommodate my new life as an iPodamaniac. First, I'll need a TuneBuckle



which seems to present several problems right off the bat. First of all, I'm pretty sure the buckle doesn't come with the flat stomach, and you may complete that thought however you like. But suffice it to say, 1. I don't want to have to go digging around for the thing, and 2. How many pieces of cake will it take before it become a hands-free device and you can appear on the "Stupid Human Tricks" segment of The Letterman show? Secondly, an iPod on your gut pretty much defeats the purpose of watching last night's episode of Lost, unless you're playing it for your golden retriever. But hey, gotta have the buckle, right?

Not to be outdone, Levi Strauss has announced a new line of blue jeans designed to be iPod compatible. "But weren't they already compatible? Didn't they have pockets?" I hear you cry. Yes, they had pockets. But pockets are to jeans as Pong is to Video games. Scoffing at the thought of mortal pockets, Levis has designed jeans with "an integrated iPod remote control, as well as an iPod dock and retractable earphones."

(I think iPod dock means pocket, but being Podless, I really don't know)

Question: With all these electronics and wires hanging from various denim orifices, what happens if it rains?

To complete the ensemble -- or more specifically, to provide a foundation upon which to build -- there are also iPod Boxers to be had. (Website not for the weak-hearted, especially if you use the "zoom in" feature)



What an amazing country we live in when our skivvies are specially designed to hold our toys. And the best design detail? Operational instructions on the waistband...just in case you forget!!



When TinyTuna and I study for her Social Studies test in "cultures" I'm going to tell her about "free enterprise" and how, in the great 50 states, underwear makers are allowed -- nay, encouraged -- to design, manufacture and profit from iPod Undies. Free from governmental control. God Bless America!

You have to wonder what's next. Socks with USB ports? Shoelaces that double as wireless routers? With iPod pants and belts and underoos, the burning question is which Pod pocket and clothing caddy will you choose, and which will you leave behind?

I bet the only answer is to buy three.

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Remarkable, Indeed

Today is my first day back teaching in the voice studio. Currently, I'm doing no teaching whatsoever, because evidently lessons aren't starting until NEXT week; a tiny detail nobody told me. Not to worry, though, because I have an actual class to teach in an hour, so the trip was not wasted.

In the meantime, I'm filing mountains of music. It's a job long overdue, so I'm happy to have quality time with my file cabinet. In the process of emptying out several plastic crates of music, I ran across an old journal I bought. It seems TinyTuna must have claimed ownership immediately, because it is filled with her work. Based on the handwriting, I'd judge this book is approximately 5-6 years old, meaning TinyTuna would have been in Kindergarten.

I turned to a page which appears to be the beginning of a TinyTuna story. It reads:
Once upon a time there lived a princess . She lived in a remarkable castle.
It wasn't unusual for TinyTuna to drag out scary vocabularly like this all the time and make me feel both a little proud and a little worried. But after looking at the actual page:
once uPoN a time ther Lived A PrincSS She LiVed I A remarkabel casell.
I thought "Phew! She's still six!"

Remarkable, Indeed

Today is my first day back teaching in the voice studio. Currently, I'm doing no teaching whatsoever, because evidently lessons aren't starting until NEXT week; a tiny detail nobody told me. Not to worry, though, because I have an actual class to teach in an hour, so the trip was not wasted.

In the meantime, I'm filing mountains of music. It's a job long overdue, so I'm happy to have quality time with my file cabinet. In the process of emptying out several plastic crates of music, I ran across an old journal I bought. It seems TinyTuna must have claimed ownership immediately, because it is filled with her work. Based on the handwriting, I'd judge this book is approximately 5-6 years old, meaning TinyTuna would have been in Kindergarten.

I turned to a page which appears to be the beginning of a TinyTuna story. It reads:
Once upon a time there lived a princess . She lived in a remarkable castle.
It wasn't unusual for TinyTuna to drag out scary vocabularly like this all the time and make me feel both a little proud and a little worried. But after looking at the actual page:
once uPoN a time ther Lived A PrincSS She LiVed I A remarkabel casell.
I thought "Phew! She's still six!"

Monday, January 09, 2006

Tradition

Today TinyTuna had a Social Studies assignment. She was supposed to interview a member of her family and write down a family custom or tradition that has been passed down from generation to generation.

She read the instructions to me with all her usual dramatic flair, and then...waited. And waited. And waited. Part desperation and part inspiration, I suggested, "Let's go talk to Gram!"

And off we went.

TinyTuna read the instruction again with all her usual dramatic flair, and then...waited. I looked at Gram. Gram looked at TinyTuna. TinyTuna looked at me.

And then we all started laughing.

After our brainstorming session, we determined our family traditions are either too boring, embarrassing or fictional to share. Somehow I don't there is much to learn about culture by sharing our family tradition "When leaving to go on vacation, no sandwiches until the expressway."

Tradition

Today TinyTuna had a Social Studies assignment. She was supposed to interview a member of her family and write down a family custom or tradition that has been passed down from generation to generation.

She read the instructions to me with all her usual dramatic flair, and then...waited. And waited. And waited. Part desperation and part inspiration, I suggested, "Let's go talk to Gram!"

And off we went.

TinyTuna read the instruction again with all her usual dramatic flair, and then...waited. I looked at Gram. Gram looked at TinyTuna. TinyTuna looked at me.

And then we all started laughing.

After our brainstorming session, we determined our family traditions are either too boring, embarrassing or fictional to share. Somehow I don't there is much to learn about culture by sharing our family tradition "When leaving to go on vacation, no sandwiches until the expressway."

Friday, January 06, 2006

Lights Out

It was a (dumb) idea of mine to stay up tonight and try to be the last Holidailies poster for the year. With God as my witness and QWERTY imprinted in my forehead, it's painfully clear that this just isn't going to happen.

Quickly admitting defeat on the whole staying awake front, I hopped over to play a game of Scrabble where I was prompted whupped. Twice. I got the hint.

Goodnight Holidailies.
Last one out turn off the light.

Lights Out

It was a (dumb) idea of mine to stay up tonight and try to be the last Holidailies poster for the year. With God as my witness and QWERTY imprinted in my forehead, it's painfully clear that this just isn't going to happen.

Quickly admitting defeat on the whole staying awake front, I hopped over to play a game of Scrabble where I was prompted whupped. Twice. I got the hint.

Goodnight Holidailies.
Last one out turn off the light.

Piph, Piph, Hooray!

Today is Epiphany. It's the celebration of three guys who managed to get themselves dressed and organized, got their camels pointed in the right direction, ambled hither and yon, sang a stanza or two of Do You Know the Way to San Jose? followed by a billion choruses of We Three Kings of Orient Are, and finally made it to the birthday party, long after the shepherds had eaten the cake and the sheep had left for greener pastures. Then, just like in Soap Operas, Baby Jesus was suddenly adolescent Jesus and had a pool party...

The above blasphemy is precisely why I don't teach Sunday school.

During this season it is appropriate to have epiphanies -- soul shaking realizations that we never quite realized in our shaking souls before. I've been a little busy to have any Epiphanies today, but in the spirit of the season, I'm going to come up with some now. Right now. Spur of the moment. Just for you.

Epiphany Number 1
Best intentions aside, the odds that any dishes will get washed after 10:30 pm are very small. Laying down on the couch while the dishes soak in a sink of hot soapy water will most likely result in a sink full dirty dishes soaking in cold slimy water come dawn.

Epiphany Number 2
Having computer tools like Bloglines that help you save time by organizing and watching your sites of interest for updates is neither a time saver nor an organizer. It is an enabler for the weak and terminally curious. Before you can say SuperRSSize Me, you are faced with the task of organizing 150 different websites into folders by subject matter so your scroll beam will be a little bigger and you won't feel quite so guilty. Deleting websites is not an option because then you might miss something.

Epiphany Number 3
After strictly lecturing your child about appropriate email usage at school, your day will drag with such dragitude that you curse your strict and cruel ways, praying she disobeys one more time and sends you something funny that doesn't include the words barf or detention.

Epiphany Number 4
The sad fact is somebody else will always be richer, skinnier and prettier than you. The cruel fact is sometimes it's all three at once AND they do it IN PRINT.


Humility may be a virtue, but revenge is far more satisfying. There is nothing better than living for the day when Karma steps in and evens the score. This is known as constructive wishful thinking.

Epiphany Number 5
When you have nothing to write about, there is always a meme out there somewhere to keep you warm.

Epiphany Number 6
Nobody knows the words to the 12 days of Christmas after day 8. Once you get to ladies, drummers and pipers, nobody gives a flying Lord a Leaping.

Epiphany Number 7
The day you decide to eat healthy is the same week potato chips are buy one, get one free.

Epiphany Number 8
The same goes for ice cream.

Epiphany Number 9
You cannot reverse the flow of time, the crush of students, the hassles of academia or the likelihood of getting caught in a train sandwich at 7:59am. You can, however erase in Sudoku, meaning you have all the power in the world.

Epiphany Number 10
Life is not all beer and skittles, but if you could split it up, TinyTuna and I would never have to trick-or-treat again.

Epiphany Number 11
Eleven epiphanies is a lot of epiphanies to piph on a Friday afternoon.

Epiphany Number 12 -- Lords a-Leaping Edition
Holidailies got me back into a writing routine which had pretty much fallen by the wayside since mid-summer. Making a commitment to write daily doesn't always mean that it will happen, but for me, the incentive was staying above the line. Thanks for letting us be squatters in your virtual verbal Woodstock.

Now what?

Piph, Piph, Hooray!

Today is Epiphany. It's the celebration of three guys who managed to get themselves dressed and organized, got their camels pointed in the right direction, ambled hither and yon, sang a stanza or two of Do You Know the Way to San Jose? followed by a billion choruses of We Three Kings of Orient Are, and finally made it to the birthday party, long after the shepherds had eaten the cake and the sheep had left for greener pastures. Then, just like in Soap Operas, Baby Jesus was suddenly adolescent Jesus and had a pool party...

The above blasphemy is precisely why I don't teach Sunday school.

During this season it is appropriate to have epiphanies -- soul shaking realizations that we never quite realized in our shaking souls before. I've been a little busy to have any Epiphanies today, but in the spirit of the season, I'm going to come up with some now. Right now. Spur of the moment. Just for you.

Epiphany Number 1
Best intentions aside, the odds that any dishes will get washed after 10:30 pm are very small. Laying down on the couch while the dishes soak in a sink of hot soapy water will most likely result in a sink full dirty dishes soaking in cold slimy water come dawn.

Epiphany Number 2
Having computer tools like Bloglines that help you save time by organizing and watching your sites of interest for updates is neither a time saver nor an organizer. It is an enabler for the weak and terminally curious. Before you can say SuperRSSize Me, you are faced with the task of organizing 150 different websites into folders by subject matter so your scroll beam will be a little bigger and you won't feel quite so guilty. Deleting websites is not an option because then you might miss something.

Epiphany Number 3
After strictly lecturing your child about appropriate email usage at school, your day will drag with such dragitude that you curse your strict and cruel ways, praying she disobeys one more time and sends you something funny that doesn't include the words barf or detention.

Epiphany Number 4
The sad fact is somebody else will always be richer, skinnier and prettier than you. The cruel fact is sometimes it's all three at once AND they do it IN PRINT.


Humility may be a virtue, but revenge is far more satisfying. There is nothing better than living for the day when Karma steps in and evens the score. This is known as constructive wishful thinking.

Epiphany Number 5
When you have nothing to write about, there is always a meme out there somewhere to keep you warm.

Epiphany Number 6
Nobody knows the words to the 12 days of Christmas after day 8. Once you get to ladies, drummers and pipers, nobody gives a flying Lord a Leaping.

Epiphany Number 7
The day you decide to eat healthy is the same week potato chips are buy one, get one free.

Epiphany Number 8
The same goes for ice cream.

Epiphany Number 9
You cannot reverse the flow of time, the crush of students, the hassles of academia or the likelihood of getting caught in a train sandwich at 7:59am. You can, however erase in Sudoku, meaning you have all the power in the world.

Epiphany Number 10
Life is not all beer and skittles, but if you could split it up, TinyTuna and I would never have to trick-or-treat again.

Epiphany Number 11
Eleven epiphanies is a lot of epiphanies to piph on a Friday afternoon.

Epiphany Number 12 -- Lords a-Leaping Edition
Holidailies got me back into a writing routine which had pretty much fallen by the wayside since mid-summer. Making a commitment to write daily doesn't always mean that it will happen, but for me, the incentive was staying above the line. Thanks for letting us be squatters in your virtual verbal Woodstock.

Now what?

Thursday, January 05, 2006

Bidding by the Dock of the Bay

Despite its massive popularity, I'm convinced a large percentage of the population does not understand the concept of eBay. To whit: Yesterday I found an item of interest. Said item had an opening price of $9.95 -- Unbelievably Low! -- and was set as a six day auction.

1st Important Fact: SIX DAYS = FOREVER

When an auction has an extended bidding time, the rule is to lay low and have patience. If the opening price is set far below value, this is a good thing. Like the Beatles said, LET IT BE.

This morning I jumped online to check the status of said item. Remember now, there are still FIVE days left in the bid.

2nd Important Fact: FIVE DAYS = FOREVER

Much to my dismay, in 24 hours the price had jumped to $95. I was bummed to see how fast the price had risen, but when I looked at the bidding history I was ready to club Moron795 into next week.

Opening: $9.95
Bid #1: $50.00

3rd Important Fact: BID LOW, BID SLOW

With no reserve price to meet, with forever to go in the auction, and with no previous bids, Moron795 opened with a bid of $50. Why? WHY? WHY? What's the rush? Why not bid $15? $20? There is no reason to give yourself to Ulysses S. Grant on the first date. Test the waters with Andrew Jackson before moving to the big leagues.

Now with over four days left, the bidding is already out of control. Gone is the opportunity and put in a couple of dummy bids to drive up the price for fun. Gone is the thrill of the final 37 seconds as you hit the refresh key with rapid fire precision to ensure a successful last minute snatch from your competitor. I may not be able to throw my electronic wallet at this auction, but I look forward to next time when Moron795 and GreenTuna battle it out at the eBay corral.

Bidding by the Dock of the Bay

Despite its massive popularity, I'm convinced a large percentage of the population does not understand the concept of eBay. To whit: Yesterday I found an item of interest. Said item had an opening price of $9.95 -- Unbelievably Low! -- and was set as a six day auction.

1st Important Fact: SIX DAYS = FOREVER

When an auction has an extended bidding time, the rule is to lay low and have patience. If the opening price is set far below value, this is a good thing. Like the Beatles said, LET IT BE.

This morning I jumped online to check the status of said item. Remember now, there are still FIVE days left in the bid.

2nd Important Fact: FIVE DAYS = FOREVER

Much to my dismay, in 24 hours the price had jumped to $95. I was bummed to see how fast the price had risen, but when I looked at the bidding history I was ready to club Moron795 into next week.

Opening: $9.95
Bid #1: $50.00

3rd Important Fact: BID LOW, BID SLOW

With no reserve price to meet, with forever to go in the auction, and with no previous bids, Moron795 opened with a bid of $50. Why? WHY? WHY? What's the rush? Why not bid $15? $20? There is no reason to give yourself to Ulysses S. Grant on the first date. Test the waters with Andrew Jackson before moving to the big leagues.

Now with over four days left, the bidding is already out of control. Gone is the opportunity and put in a couple of dummy bids to drive up the price for fun. Gone is the thrill of the final 37 seconds as you hit the refresh key with rapid fire precision to ensure a successful last minute snatch from your competitor. I may not be able to throw my electronic wallet at this auction, but I look forward to next time when Moron795 and GreenTuna battle it out at the eBay corral.

Letters from the Front

I know this is where I win the bad mother of the year award, but I just can't help it. Yesterday's missive from TinyTuna:
Subject: A BAD DAY

Today was an interesting day. It began at lunch when I found out the menu lied and their was popcorn chicken. I got a chicken sandwich and some flies, I hope that was OK. Then After school I found I had left my notebook in the math room. I opened it and I found scribbles on it that said C sucks and it is ruined all the way. Luckily it was in pencil so I can erase it clear off. I took the math test today and I didn't finish so I am going to finish tomorrow.


I love you and I will talk to you about these events on the way to choir.


Love and Anger


TinyTuna (Sourpuss)

Damn. That's one bad day.

I teased her a little bit about eating flies instead of fries, but by this time the BAD DAY seemed to have worn off and she was back to her regular self.

And now, dear Internets, I must return to my desk that runneth over with job security.

Love and Anger

Greentuna (Sourpuss)

Letters from the Front

I know this is where I win the bad mother of the year award, but I just can't help it. Yesterday's missive from TinyTuna:
Subject: A BAD DAY

Today was an interesting day. It began at lunch when I found out the menu lied and their was popcorn chicken. I got a chicken sandwich and some flies, I hope that was OK. Then After school I found I had left my notebook in the math room. I opened it and I found scribbles on it that said C sucks and it is ruined all the way. Luckily it was in pencil so I can erase it clear off. I took the math test today and I didn't finish so I am going to finish tomorrow.


I love you and I will talk to you about these events on the way to choir.


Love and Anger


TinyTuna (Sourpuss)

Damn. That's one bad day.

I teased her a little bit about eating flies instead of fries, but by this time the BAD DAY seemed to have worn off and she was back to her regular self.

And now, dear Internets, I must return to my desk that runneth over with job security.

Love and Anger

Greentuna (Sourpuss)

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

Love Thy Enemy

Last fall, several blogs I follow went through a crisis, and in the end, many relocated. The problem fell squarely on the shoulders of that bloated corporate giant America Online. It seems, the You Got Mail! company conveniently forgot to tell all its journalers you got ADS! and started parking blinking blonking banners at the top of the journal webpages. They didn't ask, and they sure didn't tell. They went Nike and just DID IT, and consequently many AOL members flipped their bitchcake lids and then left for blinky-less shores.

I was surprised that they were surprised. After all, AOL had never struck me as a particularly sensitive corporate entity. This is the company that doesn't provide cancellation information on their website yet REQUIRES you to give a reason if you try to leave the party early (becoming Amish and no longer believing in electricity doesn't work. Seriously. I tried), yet stuffs FREE 80,000 HOURS installation disks in the mail chute like they were invitations to Hogwarts.

So many AOL refugees turned to Blogger and other blog hosting sites in order to escape the hated ads. But I am here to say, you just don't know what you're missing.

I love the Blogger ads. I love them so much, I purposefully added them back in once they became optional. Because Blogger ads are based on page content (and thankfully don't blink and cause seizures), everyday at the Tuna News Ads bar is like Christmas day. Remember, without Blogger ads, the magic of the amazing Peelit would remained unknown. And I think we can all agree that would be a very sad and empty existence indeed.

So, you might understand my excitement when today one of my Blogger Ads led me, like a shining star in the sky, to this

(And lo, Marybear and Josephbear gave The Baby JesusBear...Pinatas)

and this

(Those two king bears look kind of wasted)

AND THIS

(advertisement reads: Includes Moose Jesus, Mary, Joseph and Two Angels!)

AND THIS!!

(The Poker dogs couldn't make it, but bad Perm Dogs were free)

AND THIS!!!!

(Flying Monkeys. FLYING MONKEYS!)

AND SWEET BABY JESUS IN CAPS LOCK, BOLD AND LEANED OVER,
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A Chickentivity set. Cluck.

You see, sainted rabbits and squirrels adore the holy...uh,
raccoon....who...uhhh, is....uh, generally regarded to be an
annoying garbage eating thief who....well you see.....


It's downright inspirational.


Were it not for Blogger Ads, we'd never know.
We'd NEVER EVER KNOW.
Thank you Blogger. Thank you.

Love Thy Enemy

Last fall, several blogs I follow went through a crisis, and in the end, many relocated. The problem fell squarely on the shoulders of that bloated corporate giant America Online. It seems, the You Got Mail! company conveniently forgot to tell all its journalers you got ADS! and started parking blinking blonking banners at the top of the journal webpages. They didn't ask, and they sure didn't tell. They went Nike and just DID IT, and consequently many AOL members flipped their bitchcake lids and then left for blinky-less shores.

I was surprised that they were surprised. After all, AOL had never struck me as a particularly sensitive corporate entity. This is the company that doesn't provide cancellation information on their website yet REQUIRES you to give a reason if you try to leave the party early (becoming Amish and no longer believing in electricity doesn't work. Seriously. I tried), yet stuffs FREE 80,000 HOURS installation disks in the mail chute like they were invitations to Hogwarts.

So many AOL refugees turned to Blogger and other blog hosting sites in order to escape the hated ads. But I am here to say, you just don't know what you're missing.

I love the Blogger ads. I love them so much, I purposefully added them back in once they became optional. Because Blogger ads are based on page content (and thankfully don't blink and cause seizures), everyday at the Tuna News Ads bar is like Christmas day. Remember, without Blogger ads, the magic of the amazing Peelit would remained unknown. And I think we can all agree that would be a very sad and empty existence indeed.

So, you might understand my excitement when today one of my Blogger Ads led me, like a shining star in the sky, to this

(And lo, Marybear and Josephbear gave The Baby JesusBear...Pinatas)

and this

(Those two king bears look kind of wasted)

AND THIS

(advertisement reads: Includes Moose Jesus, Mary, Joseph and Two Angels!)

AND THIS!!

(The Poker dogs couldn't make it, but bad Perm Dogs were free)

AND THIS!!!!

(Flying Monkeys. FLYING MONKEYS!)

AND SWEET BABY JESUS IN CAPS LOCK, BOLD AND LEANED OVER,
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A Chickentivity set. Cluck.

You see, sainted rabbits and squirrels adore the holy...uh,
raccoon....who...uhhh, is....uh, generally regarded to be an
annoying garbage eating thief who....well you see.....


It's downright inspirational.


Were it not for Blogger Ads, we'd never know.
We'd NEVER EVER KNOW.
Thank you Blogger. Thank you.

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Reebok Resolutions

The great room purge of 2006 was prompted by a single, catastrophic event. On Monday morning, December 26th, as I attempted to pack for the upcoming travels to ride the family go round in our Nation's Capitol, I couldn't find my shoe.

Not shoes. Plural.

Shoe. Singular.

In the midst of the mountains of mess, I found only one shoe that I could wear in public. Everything else was only fit for gardening, lawn mowing, or eating a Home Depot Dog. It's important to note that the wearing of ratty shoes to Home Depot doesn't count as "wearing in public" because it is perfectly acceptable and even expected that one will visit the Depot in scruffy attire.

So I had one good tennis shoe.
And by virtue of having only one shoe, it defied the rule of shoes.
And the rule of shoes is: Where there's one, there's two.

Think about it. You come home. You kick off your shoes. You don't take one off and kick the other one across the room. They stay in somewhat relative proximity to each other. Even with the daily ebb and flow of junk, both shoes should be easily found in a floor sweep made with your remaining shoeless foot.

But I only had one. So I commenced the besocked floor sweep.
Still only one.

So, I moved some stuff onto the bed.
Still only one.

And I moved some other stuff onto the bed.
Still only one.

This was ridiculous.
I had worn both shoes -- at the same time -- 24 hours earlier.
Still only one.

By this time I was over the edge angry. I understood things were a mess, I understood it was my fault, but dammit, all I needed at the moment was my other shoe. My rebel Reebok was holding up my departure. I bruised my ankle by doing a foot floor sweep under the entire bed. It might have been more productive to get on hands and knees and actually look under the bed, but I figured I had already humiliated myself enough for one morning.

Eventually the shoe surfaced. Where it was exactly, I don't know, and frankly, don't care. It showed up, I put it on my foot before I lost it again, and I vowed then and there -- with God as my witness -- that I would never go shoeless again.

As the great room purge of 2006 continues, all my shoes, save one pair, are sitting in the living room, awaiting the final sort and purge. And the rebel Reeboks -- both of them -- are sitting quietly by the side of my bed.

We can only hope my old dogs are learning new tricks.

Reebok Resolutions

The great room purge of 2006 was prompted by a single, catastrophic event. On Monday morning, December 26th, as I attempted to pack for the upcoming travels to ride the family go round in our Nation's Capitol, I couldn't find my shoe.

Not shoes. Plural.

Shoe. Singular.

In the midst of the mountains of mess, I found only one shoe that I could wear in public. Everything else was only fit for gardening, lawn mowing, or eating a Home Depot Dog. It's important to note that the wearing of ratty shoes to Home Depot doesn't count as "wearing in public" because it is perfectly acceptable and even expected that one will visit the Depot in scruffy attire.

So I had one good tennis shoe.
And by virtue of having only one shoe, it defied the rule of shoes.
And the rule of shoes is: Where there's one, there's two.

Think about it. You come home. You kick off your shoes. You don't take one off and kick the other one across the room. They stay in somewhat relative proximity to each other. Even with the daily ebb and flow of junk, both shoes should be easily found in a floor sweep made with your remaining shoeless foot.

But I only had one. So I commenced the besocked floor sweep.
Still only one.

So, I moved some stuff onto the bed.
Still only one.

And I moved some other stuff onto the bed.
Still only one.

This was ridiculous.
I had worn both shoes -- at the same time -- 24 hours earlier.
Still only one.

By this time I was over the edge angry. I understood things were a mess, I understood it was my fault, but dammit, all I needed at the moment was my other shoe. My rebel Reebok was holding up my departure. I bruised my ankle by doing a foot floor sweep under the entire bed. It might have been more productive to get on hands and knees and actually look under the bed, but I figured I had already humiliated myself enough for one morning.

Eventually the shoe surfaced. Where it was exactly, I don't know, and frankly, don't care. It showed up, I put it on my foot before I lost it again, and I vowed then and there -- with God as my witness -- that I would never go shoeless again.

As the great room purge of 2006 continues, all my shoes, save one pair, are sitting in the living room, awaiting the final sort and purge. And the rebel Reeboks -- both of them -- are sitting quietly by the side of my bed.

We can only hope my old dogs are learning new tricks.

Monday, January 02, 2006

War Games Take Two

Last year at this time, I made a big fat hairy deal about declaring war. The name of my war was

The War of Good God Almighty
Where Did All This Crap Come From?


Catchy.

I cleaned and I tossed (and tossed and tossed and tossed), and crowed about my amazing accomplishments, until January 9th, 2005 -- six whole days later -- when my big fat hairy deal war was never heard from again.

What happened?

The easy answer is that life happened. A basement flood happened. More life happened. Good stuff and Bad stuff. A spring break spent in New York City. A summer gig spent on Beeeeeeavvvvvver Iiiiiiiislaaaaaaaaand. A fall semester so busy I often got too tired to write. THAT busy. By Christmas time, when it was appropriate to display the nativity scene, I didn't have to go to the basement to find it, because once again Baby Jesus was still hanging out on my dresser from Christmas 2004. The Tuna family adoration achieved such a period of longevity that a polar bear had stopped by, joining the sheep and wise men to see what all the fuss was about.

Once the holidays and family gatherings were over, it was time to act. So, for ten hours today I began the enormous room purge of 2006. The rules of room purge are simple: EVERYTHING OUT. Did I finish? Not yet. But big progress was made today, and tonight I will enjoy sleeping on an entire bed, instead of that small corner that isn't covered with stuff.

This year I plan to brag less and clean more. I'm no longer content to win the battle. I want to win the war.

War Games Take Two

Last year at this time, I made a big fat hairy deal about declaring war. The name of my war was

The War of Good God Almighty
Where Did All This Crap Come From?


Catchy.

I cleaned and I tossed (and tossed and tossed and tossed), and crowed about my amazing accomplishments, until January 9th, 2005 -- six whole days later -- when my big fat hairy deal war was never heard from again.

What happened?

The easy answer is that life happened. A basement flood happened. More life happened. Good stuff and Bad stuff. A spring break spent in New York City. A summer gig spent on Beeeeeeavvvvvver Iiiiiiiislaaaaaaaaand. A fall semester so busy I often got too tired to write. THAT busy. By Christmas time, when it was appropriate to display the nativity scene, I didn't have to go to the basement to find it, because once again Baby Jesus was still hanging out on my dresser from Christmas 2004. The Tuna family adoration achieved such a period of longevity that a polar bear had stopped by, joining the sheep and wise men to see what all the fuss was about.

Once the holidays and family gatherings were over, it was time to act. So, for ten hours today I began the enormous room purge of 2006. The rules of room purge are simple: EVERYTHING OUT. Did I finish? Not yet. But big progress was made today, and tonight I will enjoy sleeping on an entire bed, instead of that small corner that isn't covered with stuff.

This year I plan to brag less and clean more. I'm no longer content to win the battle. I want to win the war.

Sunday, January 01, 2006

Unconscious Mutterings

My mutterrer has been away for awhile. Let's see what happens.

I say ... AND YOU THINK:

1. Celebrate :: Party

2. Resolve :: Promise

3. I need to :: Sleep

4. Call :: Phone

5a. Token :: Of my affection
5b. Token :: South Park

6. Brand :: Name

7. Comparison :: Shopping

8. Far away :: Distant Shore

9. Artful :: Dodger

10. Fantastic :: Four


Ahh, the olden days, when "Phone" was both noun and verb. I couldn't choose between my two "Token" answers. Technically, "Of my affection" came to mind first, but how could I not list one of my favorite South Park characters? As for the Fantastic Four, I don't think I'd be able to score a 50% on naming any of them, except to guess Incredible Hulk. Right?

And now,
I need...to sleep.

Unconscious Mutterings

My mutterrer has been away for awhile. Let's see what happens.

I say ... AND YOU THINK:

1. Celebrate :: Party

2. Resolve :: Promise

3. I need to :: Sleep

4. Call :: Phone

5a. Token :: Of my affection
5b. Token :: South Park

6. Brand :: Name

7. Comparison :: Shopping

8. Far away :: Distant Shore

9. Artful :: Dodger

10. Fantastic :: Four


Ahh, the olden days, when "Phone" was both noun and verb. I couldn't choose between my two "Token" answers. Technically, "Of my affection" came to mind first, but how could I not list one of my favorite South Park characters? As for the Fantastic Four, I don't think I'd be able to score a 50% on naming any of them, except to guess Incredible Hulk. Right?

And now,
I need...to sleep.