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Prosopopoeia
Posted 10:24 AM, May 31, 2008 |
In the final round of the Scripps National Spelling Bee, the second-place finisher was bounced on a word I had never heard until last week in the movie Reprise: prosopopoeia. It is a small world after all.
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Three Things
Posted 8:47 AM, May 29, 2008 |
Did you know that gas in Europe is around $8 or $11 a gallon or something? Although I’ve never been one to weep about gas prices rising a little here, a little there.
Got my check from the Feds yesterday. It is a little strange to get $600.00 just for being an American and hanging around. I’m sure there are costs (other than the obvious financial one) for the government to send out all these checks, but it’s hard to really think about them when you have free money in your hand.
Those are just a couple of the things floating around in my head recently.
Also, I had another not-so-stellar customer service experience, this time with the Santa Monica Parks and Recreation Department. I’m not going to go into the bitter details, but basically they gave me the wrong information last week and called yesterday to tell me the rental application I sent in would be denied as the clubhouse I wanted to rent is actually not available at the time I requested, despite the fact that they previously told me it was. Okay, so I can’t rent it, no big deal - the only thing I really wanted was an apology from the woman on the phone, who is the same one who told me it was available when I spoke to her last week. Instead, she hemmed and hawed, blamed other people, insisted I must have talked to someone else, etc.
Don’t ask me why getting the words “I’m sorry,” from people is so important to me, or why it’s so difficult. But it is.
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200 Proof Anger
Posted 1:52 PM, May 22, 2008 |
So I went to Washington Mutual bank today to take care of some business, and let me tell you, that is a horrible bank.
Seriously. Every time I go there, something dumb and stupid happens. This time, I simply wanted paperwork to add someone to an account. I was going to give it to the person who I want to add, who would fill it out, and then we would return to the bank at a later date, IDs and DNA strands in hand and sign up, because that’s what it takes to change a bank account these days.
The lady I usually work with was busy, so I waited for someone else - I think her name was LaLa. Kidding? No.
She looked at me as if I was from a strange planet where people speak English and banking operates the way one would expect. She didn’t know the answer to my question, but then I don’t think she really listened to my question, either. She sent me away and told me to wait for Sam, another banker who was busy with someone else.
So I waited. For 10 minutes. Then, this other banker, Martin, who I’ve worked with in the past but was perhaps ignoring me because I sent him a respectful but strongly-worded letter in the past about the errors of his banking ways, showed up. Martin joked around with his employees for 5 minutes before coming over to me.
I told him what I wanted. He said it was all on computer, the person would have to come in, there is no “blank form” to be filled out ahead of time. I asked him why I had to wait for 15 minutes for someone to tell me that.
Rather than apologize for my wait, he said, “Well, I came over as soon as I saw you.” I asked why the other banker didn’t tell me that, but again, he didn’t have an answer, and, as if I was speaking another language, simply repeated, “I came over as soon as I saw you.” I guess this is their, like, deflection phrase when people get upset.
I told him if it hadn’t taken me three weeks to get the paperwork to open my account there, I would just close it and go somewhere else. He looked at me as if to say, “How dare you!” and I left.
Outside, I ran into the security guard who I had encountered coming in. She signed me in, put my name down for “the long wait” (my words, not hers). So, when I met her on the sidewalk, she asked me, “Did you get everything taken care of?”
I explained my disgust. She understood. She apologized. She asked me why I came to the bank, so I explained about getting paperwork to add someone to my account. She said, “Oh, there’s no paperwork; you and the person just need to come in and they do it entirely on the computer.”
I asked her, “If you know that, why didn’t the first lady I met know that, and why did she just pass me off and make me wait for 10 minutes?”
Of course, the security guard had no answer. She was entirely sympathetic, and even used the phrase, “Give us one more chance.”
This lady was awesome. The rest of the bank stinks. Stay away.
And, if this seems harsh, consider the fact that this is really a compilation of all the angst and unpleasantness that has come from every one (literally) of my dozen visits to that bank. This is a response to poor customer service distilled down to its purest form, 200 proof.
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Another Early Morning (Rundown)
Posted 10:41 AM, May 21, 2008 |
The last day that I posted here, I was awake at about 4:45am. This morning, I was awake at about 5:15am, which, amazingly, was already 5 hours ago.
Fortunately, I did take a nap already for about an hour, post three-egg, two-toast, one-cream soda breakfast.
No strange dreams this time.
Lately, I’ve been doing research on some former classmates, probably inspired by my last dream. I’m going to stop doing that, though, because it seems like everyone I find is doing more awesome things than me. I found an ex-crush in Ghana doing social work’ another ex-crush in Las Vegas working as an artist with some of her work showing in nearby Camarillo, CA; another playing semi-pro hockey, spending part of his time with the Baton Rouge Kingfishers.
I used to spend a fair amount of work time in Baton Rouge - one year I made thirteen trips to old Red Stick. We used to stay at a Marriott by the river, and also by the ice arena where the Kingfishers played. We never went to a game, sadly - I can only imagine my surprise at finding an old high school friend playing hockey there.
This guy was my 8th grade locker partner and is now, apparently, big into Baha’i.
Anyway, so I don’t think I’ll think spend time Googling old high-, middle-, and elementary-school friends anymore.
(I felt like I had to writesomething, you know.
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Dream (I)
Posted 8:50 AM, May 16, 2008 |
(Some names have been changed to protect the innocent; who knows what kind of trouble dream-people might get themselves into.)
I was attending a night of board game playing at my friend Rick’s house. I pulled up in the minivan I drove throughout high school - yes, I actually did drive a minivan in high school because I was awesome. Pulling up next to me were two female grade school acquaintances, Ryann and Joelle.
(Also, in real life, Ryann was the first girl I remember who noticeably had a crush on me. In, like, 4th grade or something, we were all in the old Homecroft Elementary School gymnasium watching Gus, a Disney film about a donkey who kicks field goals, and she put her head on my shoulder. Swoon. (To read more about this actual experience, which I’ve talked about before, check here; also, it is frightening how I’ve already mentioned this somewhat-insignificant detail about my life on this site, way back in late 2005.))
Anyway, also it was snowing and I remember, in my dream, opening the trunk of the minivan and pulling out this huge bag of games, along with this old-style wooden-ish valise full of games, and I was lugging them all along. I was unable to close the trunk, not because my hands were full but because it had opened way, way up, like, dream-like far up, and I was unable to reach it. Fortunately, another grade school friend, Brian, happened by.
Brian was, in reality, the tallest kid in my 6th grade class, insanely goofy, discoverer of some old Dungeons & Dragons books that got us all hooked, and went on to join the military. He once chased me around a computer lab with a giant garbage bag, but that’s another story.
Joelle or Ryann, one of the two, were carrying this giant plastic camel piece from this game called Through the Desert (actual game) and it was filled with sand and then they tried to make me carry it. My hands were full, so I just kicked it aside, as they refused to help.
When we got to the basement of Rick’s house, I almost slipped on the floor - it was one of those super-slick concrete floors; we had one in our garage growing up and when it got wet it was like trying to walk on ice.
I ended up just lying down on the floor and Rick’s cat come over and wrapped itself entirely around my head like some sort of spider attacking my face. I am allergic to cats. This is bad.
I had to have Rick actually pry the cat off my face, I started wheezing, and then woke up.
As with most dreams, the things it makes you think of are far more interesting than the dream itself.
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Two Too-Early Morning Thoughts
Posted 5:49 AM, May 16, 2008 |
How is it that one can live in Los Angeles and, still, by 4:45am, it sounds like an aviary outside? Plus, my shirt is on backwards.
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A Rare YouTube Link
Posted 10:06 AM, May 14, 2008 |
I normally eschew YouTube, mostly because it is too popular with the masses. However, because some of you don’t read kottke, you’ll miss this classic. Be patient.
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Plan for Pork
Posted 8:57 AM, May 14, 2008 |
The plans have been made. For less than $200 and 25,000 miles that my former job paid for, I’m flying to Indianapolis, then driving to Champaign-Urbana to enjoy an annual pig roast which has been happening for longer than I know, but that I have only attended once before. I am then flying back first class, because the sun shines only on me, sometimes.
The last time I attended a pig roast, in Chicago, it was a trip entirely paid for by my former job. I was able to tack a weekend stay in Chicago on to an itinerary that had me in Hershey, PA for the following week for a meeting. As the cost of the additional stay in Chicago actually made the trip cheaper, I didn’t have to pay for it.
Other (former) employees of my former job were able to do things like travel to Hawaii for the weekend at no expense, but were then forced to, immediately after the Hawaii visit, travel to Anchorage, Alaska, which is, like, a rude awakening.
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Constance on the Rise
Posted 10:30 AM, May 8, 2008 |
Not like this blog is really all about plants - it isn’t, I swear! But anyway, so it looks like Constance, my Dutchman’s pipe, is gearing up with another set of buds. I count somewhere around 2 dozen - last time about half didn’t make it to any sort of near-flower stage, so we’ll see. Constance has been enjoying the warm weather and growing quite a bit, so a big burst of flowers wouldn’t be unexpected.
More non-plant news later, sometime.
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And There Was Much Rejoicing
Posted 10:41 AM, May 7, 2008 |
Today, I put the last check to pay off my last two student loans in the mail. So, now, no student loans, no car loans, no house loans, no loans at all.
Time to get a Ferrari.
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Out of Context
Posted 7:15 PM, May 5, 2008 |
So, one of the (dis)advantages of using Google’s email service is that they automatically scan the contents of your email to provide context-related ads. If you type in something like, say, “Boy, I need to get my car washed,” they may display ads for car washes. On the other hand, if you type an email addressed to, say, “Gina,” they may, hypothetically, of course, display an ad for a vaginoplasty specialist, which is, of course, exactly what you thought it was.
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Gallery: Mentryville, CA
Posted 6:06 PM, May 3, 2008 |
As the EC is on call today, leaving me to pad around the house, and I was not in the mood to make it two footwear-less Saturdays in a row, I did some surfing on the Internet to find old, broken-down, rustic houses in Southern California. As you might imagine, that’s not an easy task. When I lived in Missouri, you step out your front door, turn around, and look - a rustic old house! The roads of rural Missouri are filled with peeling paint, but not so here in SoCal.
I did find out about five different “ghost towns” in Los Angeles County. Most of them, according to the trusty Internet, exist now only as foundation stones; only one, Mentryville, CA, exists with any sort of buildings.
Mentryville is about 35 minutes north of Los Angeles, near Santa Clarita. The town of Mentryville, which is no more, is now a park, basically, maintained by the state (I think). Mentryville consists of a few old shacks and the restored, one-room Felton School.
It’s obviously not a big area, and so this photo set, which actually turned out to be one of my favorites as the hillsides were covered with blooming yellow flowers, is a little repetitive, perhaps.
Also, sadly, if, when I say “ghost town” you think Old West, dusty streets, abandoned saloons, etc., well, think again. Sure, it’s better than just foundations, but it sure doesn’t look like any town I’ve ever been to. Not even a rural Missouri town.
Mentryville, CA
Mentryville was originally an oil town; according to Wikipedia, the oil well called Pico Number 4 was the first oil strike in CA and also the longest running well on record. Oil was struck in 1876 and the well was finally capped in 1990, for a total run of 114 years. The town, certainly, was abandoned well before 1990. (Unfortunately, parts of it were closed off for some reason, and so there wasn’t a lot of history to read there.)
Oh, and also, the person in the distance in the last photo is another park-goer. She had three small children with her. They were catching ladybugs in their hands. One of the girls, maybe 3 years old, had her hands closed gently around what she described as “a bunch” of ladybugs. As was walking away, she started giggling and yelled, “They’re tickling,” and it was cute.
I just wanted to tell you that.
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He Had Eyes the Size of Soccer Balls
Posted 2:44 PM, May 3, 2008 |
Here’s a late link, provided to me by a faithful reader or two, to a video story about a giant squid that researchers have unfrozen and are studying. (It was frozen, one assumes, for scientific purposes, not because it lost its way in the icy Arctic water.) It has eyes the size of soccer balls, measuring almost 11 inches across, reportedly the largest eyes in the world.
One has to ask whether its eyes are bigger than its stomach.
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Annual Stanley
Posted 2:41 PM, May 3, 2008 |
Every year Stanley blooms. One year he actually crept out of his pot and started making sneaky “guest” posts on this blog.
Thankfully, this year, Stanley is blooming again.
Also thankfully, he is staying in his pot. That little rascal.
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Greens, Wind & Fire
Posted 5:05 PM, May 2, 2008 |
One of the lawn bowlers, an older fellow from, say, Croatia (I think), was talking to me today about music - I had my headphones on while bowling, as an experiment. A sample of our conversation:
Him:What are you listening to? You’re not listening to the Bible, are you?
Me: No, just music. Not the Bible.
Him: Good. People who listen to the Bible make me nervous.
Me: …
Him: Do you know that group Earth, Wind & Fire?
Me: Yeah, I know them - I know of them.
Him: My son is their lead guitarist.
True.
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