Friday, January 28, 2005
Catch-up.
I've met someone.
Our first kiss was outside my parents' house on Christmas Eve.
And tomorrow night I'm cooking dinner for 15 Christians.
I've met someone.
Our first kiss was outside my parents' house on Christmas Eve.
And tomorrow night I'm cooking dinner for 15 Christians.
Thursday, January 20, 2005
Winter Survival.
Being a complete slob has its high points. Below is a list of objects that I've found in my car that I've found uses for this winter.
A plastic water bottle, half full - When the snow is light and fluffy, this is a good tool to brush off side windows. It doesn't remove the tiny flakes stuck to the glass, but that stuff usually comes off when I drive, anyway.
Empty plastic grocery bag - This is for snow removal on hard-to-reach places like windshields and back windows. I simply insert my arm (usually without the luxury of a glove) into the plastic bag and wipe off the windows in big strokes. The bag keeps most of my arm dry, but does not do much to add warmth.
Lotion bottle - I have a tube of lotion that stands up on its cap. The top comes together at an angle, leaving a hard plastic seam (about an inch wide) that can be used to scrape off ice. The bonus to this is that after I'm done, I can moisturize.
Empty cigarette boxes - These have not come in handy yet, but should I find myself in an emergency situation, I could burn them to create heat or smoke signals. I'm guessing I have enough for a twenty-minute fire.
Matches / lighters - These are also good to start fires. I've also used the lighter to break ice off the door handle.
Random pieces of clothing - Perfect for wiping the inside of the windshield off when the car gets foggy.
Wendy's bags - These can be placed under tires for traction when trying to leave my parking space. Outdated work papers can also work.
Being a complete slob has its high points. Below is a list of objects that I've found in my car that I've found uses for this winter.
A plastic water bottle, half full - When the snow is light and fluffy, this is a good tool to brush off side windows. It doesn't remove the tiny flakes stuck to the glass, but that stuff usually comes off when I drive, anyway.
Empty plastic grocery bag - This is for snow removal on hard-to-reach places like windshields and back windows. I simply insert my arm (usually without the luxury of a glove) into the plastic bag and wipe off the windows in big strokes. The bag keeps most of my arm dry, but does not do much to add warmth.
Lotion bottle - I have a tube of lotion that stands up on its cap. The top comes together at an angle, leaving a hard plastic seam (about an inch wide) that can be used to scrape off ice. The bonus to this is that after I'm done, I can moisturize.
Empty cigarette boxes - These have not come in handy yet, but should I find myself in an emergency situation, I could burn them to create heat or smoke signals. I'm guessing I have enough for a twenty-minute fire.
Matches / lighters - These are also good to start fires. I've also used the lighter to break ice off the door handle.
Random pieces of clothing - Perfect for wiping the inside of the windshield off when the car gets foggy.
Wendy's bags - These can be placed under tires for traction when trying to leave my parking space. Outdated work papers can also work.
Thursday, January 13, 2005
Storm.
Mother Earth is pissed. Between mudslides in California and avalanches in Colorado and the tsunami, one might think that we've seen the worst. And to be honest, there's a little relief knowing that Ohio is not near an ocean or a significant mountain range. (Though we are on a major fault line.) We seem to be getting off easy. It's been 60 degrees around here, and with all the rain, it feels like Spring. Two nights ago, we even had a thunderstorm.
But it looks like we're not going to be spared. Today I received a phone call at work from the management company. My store is roughly twenty feet from the bank of the Olentangy River. It's pretty to look at in the summer and it's a nice reminder that life does exist outside of my office. So. The phone call was to warn me that at midnight tonight, the city is going to open the floodgates just north of us. Apparently, if the river rises one more foot, the neighborhood north of us will be flooded for half a mile on either side. And if it raises more than four feet, we're going to be screwed as well.
This has all been conversation fodder for the employees today. Some people think that it will never rise that high. Others are preparing for a flood. The florist spent half an hour placing all over her arrangements on counters. And the furniture store a few doors down is loading all of their products into a semi to be hauled away to higher ground. Mainly, though, it's been calm. No one really knows what to expect. We are in a 100-year flood plain, but I, for one, have no idea what that is, or how a flood can mathematically happen only once in 100 years.
The oddest thing about the situation is that we know it's going to happen, when it's going to happen and where it's going to happen. Unlike the tsunami, mudslide and avalanche victims, we have time to contemplate and prepare. Except there's not anything we can really do, except check the flood insurance and go outside to look at the rising river.
Even as we watched a transformer blow up causing us to lose power earlier this afternoon, we moved slowly through the dark and talked about the weather. It's sixty degrees in January. Anything can and probably will happen.
Mother Earth is pissed. Between mudslides in California and avalanches in Colorado and the tsunami, one might think that we've seen the worst. And to be honest, there's a little relief knowing that Ohio is not near an ocean or a significant mountain range. (Though we are on a major fault line.) We seem to be getting off easy. It's been 60 degrees around here, and with all the rain, it feels like Spring. Two nights ago, we even had a thunderstorm.
But it looks like we're not going to be spared. Today I received a phone call at work from the management company. My store is roughly twenty feet from the bank of the Olentangy River. It's pretty to look at in the summer and it's a nice reminder that life does exist outside of my office. So. The phone call was to warn me that at midnight tonight, the city is going to open the floodgates just north of us. Apparently, if the river rises one more foot, the neighborhood north of us will be flooded for half a mile on either side. And if it raises more than four feet, we're going to be screwed as well.
This has all been conversation fodder for the employees today. Some people think that it will never rise that high. Others are preparing for a flood. The florist spent half an hour placing all over her arrangements on counters. And the furniture store a few doors down is loading all of their products into a semi to be hauled away to higher ground. Mainly, though, it's been calm. No one really knows what to expect. We are in a 100-year flood plain, but I, for one, have no idea what that is, or how a flood can mathematically happen only once in 100 years.
The oddest thing about the situation is that we know it's going to happen, when it's going to happen and where it's going to happen. Unlike the tsunami, mudslide and avalanche victims, we have time to contemplate and prepare. Except there's not anything we can really do, except check the flood insurance and go outside to look at the rising river.
Even as we watched a transformer blow up causing us to lose power earlier this afternoon, we moved slowly through the dark and talked about the weather. It's sixty degrees in January. Anything can and probably will happen.
Thursday, January 06, 2005
I Don't Wanna.
This weekend, I get to spend time with roughly 5000 women. Half will be getting married soon, and the other half are their bridesmaids, sisters and mothers. No, it's not some sort of new reality television program. It's a bridal show, and I'm working at it for twelve terrifying hours.
I attended the show last year as a guest of Amy, and more importantly, a future bridesmaid. We looked at flowers. We tasted cake. We saw 19 year-old girls modeling wedding dresses. We walked by country music D.J.'s announcing songs to passers-by who weren't listening.
For one reason or another (I'm thinking some sort of self hatred might have been motivation) I decided that my company needed to be present at this thing, to show off our catering and floral skills.
Now I'm not saying that all brides are evil. They're not. I know plenty of women who have been wonderful at the art of balancing wedding planning and keeping a clear head. Not every bride is like that chick from the Diet Dr. Pepper commercial. It's not even the brides that I'm worried about.
It's their mothers.
Family members get all crazy when it comes to wedding planning. Arguments can start based on the spelling of Gerbera Daisy. What I fear is that I will spend my weekend surrounded by 5000 women on synchronized menstrual cycles.
That, and that I'll be in a booth next to a country music D.J.
This weekend, I get to spend time with roughly 5000 women. Half will be getting married soon, and the other half are their bridesmaids, sisters and mothers. No, it's not some sort of new reality television program. It's a bridal show, and I'm working at it for twelve terrifying hours.
I attended the show last year as a guest of Amy, and more importantly, a future bridesmaid. We looked at flowers. We tasted cake. We saw 19 year-old girls modeling wedding dresses. We walked by country music D.J.'s announcing songs to passers-by who weren't listening.
For one reason or another (I'm thinking some sort of self hatred might have been motivation) I decided that my company needed to be present at this thing, to show off our catering and floral skills.
Now I'm not saying that all brides are evil. They're not. I know plenty of women who have been wonderful at the art of balancing wedding planning and keeping a clear head. Not every bride is like that chick from the Diet Dr. Pepper commercial. It's not even the brides that I'm worried about.
It's their mothers.
Family members get all crazy when it comes to wedding planning. Arguments can start based on the spelling of Gerbera Daisy. What I fear is that I will spend my weekend surrounded by 5000 women on synchronized menstrual cycles.
That, and that I'll be in a booth next to a country music D.J.
