This is, once again, the tag game.
Since JL tagged me, I will now write 6 more weird/strange habits/things about myself.
I think I'll continue the trend of earlier -- and since most people find those items the strangest, anyway -- we will do this entirely about my eating habits.
1. I don't eat meat off the bones. That means no wings, no ribs, no fried chicken. I'll eat just about anything boneless, though.
2. Mac and Cheese... Kraft Dinner (or its generic friends). I don't do the Velveta with the cheese goo. And I don't do baked... or even the stuff from HoJo's that everybody raves about. Just the stuff with the good old powdered orange cheese.
3. Miracle Whip. I think I may be the only person on the planet who actually prefers it to mayo. I just think it might be the egg thing (see earlier Tagged blog). Who knows? I'll eat my tuna made with mayo... but I prefer Miracle Whip, and won't put mayo on just a regular sandwich at all.
4. I only like the vegetables that little kids hate. Broccolli, Brussels Sprouts, Spinach. Mmm... But, I don't like lettuce and tomato.
5. I rarely eat cooked seafood... but I love Sashimi. Give me a plate of raw fish any day of the week... but only on the rarest of occasions do I have any sort of cooked seafood, and even then its limited to lobster, calamari, and really good British style Fish & Chips. On a related note... not worthy of its own line... Sashimi yes, Sushi no. I love the raw fish... but leave out the rice and other crap that makes it more palatable to others.
6. OK, this isn't weird, just ethnic... but I never met a potatoe I didn't like. Mmm.. spuds. Mash 'em, bake 'em, boil 'em, croquettes, fries, JoJos, hash browns, julienned, whatever. I love potatoes (and yes, Dan Quayle, there is an "e" in that word!)
Since this is my second time through, I will tag nobody. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.
03 April 2006
10 March 2006
A great cause that's close to my heart
Premature birth is the leading cause of newborn death and many lifelong disabilities. You can help the March of Dimes fight prematurity by taking steps in WalkAmerica.Join WalkAmerica and a million compassionate people nationwide who care about saving babies. Do it in the name of someone you love a premature baby, a healthy baby, your own baby or the baby of a relative or friend.
As many of you may know, or may have read in my various blogs, I have a niece, Kayden Ivy, now 18 months old, who was born dangerously premature. My roommate, and great friend, Bigg Timmy, and his family dealt with similar a month before. Trinity wasn't as lucky as Kayden.
Timmy and I will be walking in the March of Dimes WalkAmerica at Lighthouse Point in New Haven on April 30th; he on behalf of his niece and family and I on behalf of mine.
Yeah, this is a blatant call for support. Sorry. Not usually my style, but this is a good cause, and one that means a lot to me. We're both trying to raise as much money as he can. Any and all donations will be most appreciated, no matter the size. Instructions for online donations are on the sites for both me and Timmy.
This is for a great cause, to help prevent premature birth. If you're wondering how he got involved with March of Dimes yourself, or walk yourself, information is also available on their site.
And here's my last plea to you... because who can resist pictures of cute little kids.
Thank you all for any and all support you can give.
As many of you may know, or may have read in my various blogs, I have a niece, Kayden Ivy, now 18 months old, who was born dangerously premature. My roommate, and great friend, Bigg Timmy, and his family dealt with similar a month before. Trinity wasn't as lucky as Kayden.
Timmy and I will be walking in the March of Dimes WalkAmerica at Lighthouse Point in New Haven on April 30th; he on behalf of his niece and family and I on behalf of mine.
Yeah, this is a blatant call for support. Sorry. Not usually my style, but this is a good cause, and one that means a lot to me. We're both trying to raise as much money as he can. Any and all donations will be most appreciated, no matter the size. Instructions for online donations are on the sites for both me and Timmy.
This is for a great cause, to help prevent premature birth. If you're wondering how he got involved with March of Dimes yourself, or walk yourself, information is also available on their site.
And here's my last plea to you... because who can resist pictures of cute little kids.
Thank you all for any and all support you can give.
05 March 2006
My Blog homework is late... what else is new?
Archived MySpace blog
Category: Blogging
Tag...YOU'RE it!!
So..the rules are, once you've been tagged, you have to write a blog with "Six Weird Things/Habits" about yourself. In the end, you need to choose the 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment that says "You Are Tagged!" in their comments...and tell them to read yours.
Don't just leave a comment here... start a whole new blog on your page! :)
1. I'm utterly obsessed with my Canadian citizenship. It's disturbing, actually. I've gotten to the point that I can only eat Canadian peanut butter, and I prefer all these odd things simply because they're Canadian or from Canada. Yet... I was born and raised in Milford, Connecticut.
2. I don't eat eggs. No real reason. I just don't. I find them disgusting and they make me sick. I eat plenty of things made with eggs, though. No issues there. But if I even smell and egg cooking... scrambled, fried, poached, omelet, quiche... I'll gag.
3. I spell things... or at least some things... the British English way. Neighbour, colour, tyre, etc. I went to school in the U.S. Even had a fight with a teacher over a spelling test because of it. I guess... see also No. 1.
4. I can't listen to music I like with out tapping out the drum part or pluckin' the bass-line. I've tried. Unless I'm actually dancing, I can't sit still through music. Hell, even when I'm dancing I have to really try not to tap out the rhythm section.
5. I'm mental about my hair. Everybody knows it. Strangers can tell just by looking at me. I obsess over it. If its not perfect, I wear a hat. Don't take my hat off if I'm wearing one... the hair underneath is less than perfect. And don't touch it. Seriously. Don't touch my hair. Unless I'm in for the night... no one can mess it up.
6. When I get in the mode, I will eat the same Tuna on a grinder with American cheese, salt & pepper 5 days a week for lunch. Sometimes for dinner, too. Just American cheese, salt & pepper. No change. No variance. 5 days straight. For weeks. Sometimes just Tuna with salt & pepper right out of the bowl I mix it in. I can never get tired of it. And I feel really good when I eat it. Protein and Omega-3 Fatty Acids I guess. Mmmm... maybe I'll go have tuna right now.
Okay...now I'm tagging:
Lonnie
Jenn
Marie
Carly
Joey
Frânk
Chuck
Yeah... I tagged an extra. Sue me.
Category: Blogging
Tag...YOU'RE it!!
So..the rules are, once you've been tagged, you have to write a blog with "Six Weird Things/Habits" about yourself. In the end, you need to choose the 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment that says "You Are Tagged!" in their comments...and tell them to read yours.
Don't just leave a comment here... start a whole new blog on your page! :)
1. I'm utterly obsessed with my Canadian citizenship. It's disturbing, actually. I've gotten to the point that I can only eat Canadian peanut butter, and I prefer all these odd things simply because they're Canadian or from Canada. Yet... I was born and raised in Milford, Connecticut.
2. I don't eat eggs. No real reason. I just don't. I find them disgusting and they make me sick. I eat plenty of things made with eggs, though. No issues there. But if I even smell and egg cooking... scrambled, fried, poached, omelet, quiche... I'll gag.
3. I spell things... or at least some things... the British English way. Neighbour, colour, tyre, etc. I went to school in the U.S. Even had a fight with a teacher over a spelling test because of it. I guess... see also No. 1.
4. I can't listen to music I like with out tapping out the drum part or pluckin' the bass-line. I've tried. Unless I'm actually dancing, I can't sit still through music. Hell, even when I'm dancing I have to really try not to tap out the rhythm section.
5. I'm mental about my hair. Everybody knows it. Strangers can tell just by looking at me. I obsess over it. If its not perfect, I wear a hat. Don't take my hat off if I'm wearing one... the hair underneath is less than perfect. And don't touch it. Seriously. Don't touch my hair. Unless I'm in for the night... no one can mess it up.
6. When I get in the mode, I will eat the same Tuna on a grinder with American cheese, salt & pepper 5 days a week for lunch. Sometimes for dinner, too. Just American cheese, salt & pepper. No change. No variance. 5 days straight. For weeks. Sometimes just Tuna with salt & pepper right out of the bowl I mix it in. I can never get tired of it. And I feel really good when I eat it. Protein and Omega-3 Fatty Acids I guess. Mmmm... maybe I'll go have tuna right now.
Okay...now I'm tagging:
Lonnie
Jenn
Marie
Carly
Joey
Frânk
Chuck
Yeah... I tagged an extra. Sue me.
27 February 2006
Ye Olde Watering Hole
Archived MySpace blog
Current mood: reminded
Category: reminded Blogging
There is a flagpole, here in the fair Elm City, in the middle of the Green, and on it is a memorial -- I believe -- to World War II... specifically -- if I'm not mistaken... to the D-Day invasion. It bears the name Verdun, among other French town names. I could be wrong. The point is not this anyway.
As a celebration of the millennium -- OK, the common numerical millennium, not the true one which began 1 January 2001 -- it was decided there would be a fountain erected around said flagpole. And so, by the early Summer of 2000, our lovely downtown flagpole was surrounded by some variety of active moat, which, I imagine, hinders the person in charge of raising and lowering said flag.
But raising and lowering aside, the real curiosity of the fountain was discovered that July.
It seems, that in the scenic downtown Elm City, that fountains are not just for admiring. Our Millennium Fountain had become a children's swimming hole. Cute, I guess, until you actually see the shoeless unwashed masses, diapered and dirty, splashing about, and loading their pockets with the pennies, nickels, and dimes thrown in by other locals, who -- one would have to guess -- mistook the Millennium Fountain for a wishing well.
No matter. Kids will be kids. And since there had been no procedure put in place to collect the coins, I guess they can have them.
Well, except for one thing...
In the hot summer days children splash merrily in the Millennium Fountain - Wishing Well - Downtown Public Pool, but after dark the fountain has different purpose.
For, in the light of the moon, our lovely fountain has now become the Downtown Homeless Bathhouse. Yes indeed. The homeless population of the fair Elm City, of which there are many, have declared this permanent water fixture as their very own public bath tub. Although the unwashed diapered children prefer the comfort of their own much, it seems the indigent prefer to get in a good scrubbing before they retire to their park benches on a warm summer night.
Enter bureaucracy.
ElmCity Ordinance 00-481: It is unlawful to bathe in the Millennium Fountain, per order of the City.
On six 4' x 3' sandwich-board signs ringing the perimeter of the fountain.
Beauty interrupted by legislation.
But hey, no swimming, right?
One would think, but one would be wrong.
And now, five and one-half years later, the sandwich boards, long since removed, have been replaced with these markers.
"PLEASE DO NOT ENTER THE FOUNTAIN"
Somehow I think that those who would bathe in the fountain would pay no mind to these warnings.
But they do look nice.
Current mood: reminded
Category: reminded Blogging
There is a flagpole, here in the fair Elm City, in the middle of the Green, and on it is a memorial -- I believe -- to World War II... specifically -- if I'm not mistaken... to the D-Day invasion. It bears the name Verdun, among other French town names. I could be wrong. The point is not this anyway.
As a celebration of the millennium -- OK, the common numerical millennium, not the true one which began 1 January 2001 -- it was decided there would be a fountain erected around said flagpole. And so, by the early Summer of 2000, our lovely downtown flagpole was surrounded by some variety of active moat, which, I imagine, hinders the person in charge of raising and lowering said flag.
But raising and lowering aside, the real curiosity of the fountain was discovered that July.
It seems, that in the scenic downtown Elm City, that fountains are not just for admiring. Our Millennium Fountain had become a children's swimming hole. Cute, I guess, until you actually see the shoeless unwashed masses, diapered and dirty, splashing about, and loading their pockets with the pennies, nickels, and dimes thrown in by other locals, who -- one would have to guess -- mistook the Millennium Fountain for a wishing well.
No matter. Kids will be kids. And since there had been no procedure put in place to collect the coins, I guess they can have them.
Well, except for one thing...
In the hot summer days children splash merrily in the Millennium Fountain - Wishing Well - Downtown Public Pool, but after dark the fountain has different purpose.
For, in the light of the moon, our lovely fountain has now become the Downtown Homeless Bathhouse. Yes indeed. The homeless population of the fair Elm City, of which there are many, have declared this permanent water fixture as their very own public bath tub. Although the unwashed diapered children prefer the comfort of their own much, it seems the indigent prefer to get in a good scrubbing before they retire to their park benches on a warm summer night.
Enter bureaucracy.
ElmCity Ordinance 00-481: It is unlawful to bathe in the Millennium Fountain, per order of the City.
On six 4' x 3' sandwich-board signs ringing the perimeter of the fountain.
Beauty interrupted by legislation.
But hey, no swimming, right?
One would think, but one would be wrong.
And now, five and one-half years later, the sandwich boards, long since removed, have been replaced with these markers.
"PLEASE DO NOT ENTER THE FOUNTAIN"
Somehow I think that those who would bathe in the fountain would pay no mind to these warnings.
But they do look nice.
14 February 2006
Oh yeah... I love this day
Archived MySpace blog
Current mood: apathetic
Category: Romance and Relationships
Valentine's Day... and we arraign the wife beaters from the weekend past.
But today they come in together, arm-in-arm.
Even the Judicial system isn't free from the hypocrisy of the damned holiday.
They beat each other. Kicking, shoving, slapping; 5 and 6 times before this one... that their records even show. More than likely, its 3 times a week.
On Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and even Monday, they hated each other... enough to swing, enough to throw dishes... in front of the children... and the foster children... and their children from other daddies... enough even to call the cops. To scream, and yell, and threaten.
And today they file in... bruises hidden behind bad make-up, misplaced scarves... band-aids cover skin broken by knuckles... arm-in-fucking-arm, because today their in love. Today its Valentine's Day, the day that past transgressions against love or forgiven in favour of discount shop cards, over-priced chocolates, or maybe -- just maybe -- a rose from the guy with a van on the Boulevard.
Today their hypocrisy knows no bounds.
Or am I wrong?
Is today truly about forgiving the year because somebody shelled out the big bucks on Russell Stovers?
I don't know.
Answer that one after I hit you on the head with a frying pan.
Current mood: apathetic
Category: Romance and Relationships
Valentine's Day... and we arraign the wife beaters from the weekend past.
But today they come in together, arm-in-arm.
Even the Judicial system isn't free from the hypocrisy of the damned holiday.
They beat each other. Kicking, shoving, slapping; 5 and 6 times before this one... that their records even show. More than likely, its 3 times a week.
On Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and even Monday, they hated each other... enough to swing, enough to throw dishes... in front of the children... and the foster children... and their children from other daddies... enough even to call the cops. To scream, and yell, and threaten.
And today they file in... bruises hidden behind bad make-up, misplaced scarves... band-aids cover skin broken by knuckles... arm-in-fucking-arm, because today their in love. Today its Valentine's Day, the day that past transgressions against love or forgiven in favour of discount shop cards, over-priced chocolates, or maybe -- just maybe -- a rose from the guy with a van on the Boulevard.
Today their hypocrisy knows no bounds.
Or am I wrong?
Is today truly about forgiving the year because somebody shelled out the big bucks on Russell Stovers?
I don't know.
Answer that one after I hit you on the head with a frying pan.
06 February 2006
What's in a name?
Archived MySpace blog
Category: Blogging
I believe I need to start a new Government agency.
Now normally, I'm not in favour of bureaucracy. Heck, I work for the Government, and know how little can actually be done. But, in this case, I think its necessary
I propose the Bureau of Baby Naming.
I believe that there need to be officials in charge of reviewing baby names, at the hospital, before they are allowed to go on Birth Certificates. Allow me to explain.
Mr. & Mrs. Pope needed to be told that they should not be allowed to name their son John.
Mr. & Mrs. Lockman should have been informed that the amusement of naming their daughter Pandora gets old quick.
Mr. & Mrs. Jones should have been made aware that naming their son SirLawrence would not make him noble.
The same should have been said to Mr. & Mrs. James of their son King.
Mr. & Mrs. Outlaw should have just been told to change their last name before all 5 of their sons ended up in jail.
Mr. & Mrs. Barry... now these were an interesting pair. 3 daughters, LaAustralia, LaAsia, and LaKeebler. I just don't know what to say but "no".
More to come in the coming days.
Category: Blogging
I believe I need to start a new Government agency.
Now normally, I'm not in favour of bureaucracy. Heck, I work for the Government, and know how little can actually be done. But, in this case, I think its necessary
I propose the Bureau of Baby Naming.
I believe that there need to be officials in charge of reviewing baby names, at the hospital, before they are allowed to go on Birth Certificates. Allow me to explain.
Mr. & Mrs. Pope needed to be told that they should not be allowed to name their son John.
Mr. & Mrs. Lockman should have been informed that the amusement of naming their daughter Pandora gets old quick.
Mr. & Mrs. Jones should have been made aware that naming their son SirLawrence would not make him noble.
The same should have been said to Mr. & Mrs. James of their son King.
Mr. & Mrs. Outlaw should have just been told to change their last name before all 5 of their sons ended up in jail.
Mr. & Mrs. Barry... now these were an interesting pair. 3 daughters, LaAustralia, LaAsia, and LaKeebler. I just don't know what to say but "no".
More to come in the coming days.
25 January 2006
An answer to the age old question
Archived MySpace blog
Current mood: contemplative
Category: Blogging
A friend of mine today asked this question in her blog...
Why is that we always want whatever it is that we cannnot have?
One answer:
We are predators, not prey
Its inherent, timeless, and dates back to the earliest origins of man. We hunt.
We do not take that which is easy to acquire, because we apply intrinsic value to that which is rare or difficult to obtain.
If something takes effort to acquire, it, by that fact alone, becomes better to us. And moreover, the act of acquiring it sometimes carries even more value that its actual possession.
This is why we have sport.
What is sport? Rabbits don't play basketball. Sport is the act of the hunt, or the chase, or everything competitive, without the result.
The puck does not need to be in the net. It serves us no purpose for the ball to be in the bleachers, and to run back to where we started. The track star has no need met by being 100 yds further forward, especially when there are 15 impediments in his way that he must jump over to get there.
But... the act of the chase, putting the puck in the goal, putting the ball over the fence, running as fast as one can around a diamond back to the same point, or getting 100 yds down the track... and trying to prove that you're the best or the fastest at it... satisfies a need that hearkens back to the mammoth... which just proved better than tundra weeds.
That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
Current mood: contemplative
Category: Blogging
A friend of mine today asked this question in her blog...
Why is that we always want whatever it is that we cannnot have?
One answer:
We are predators, not prey
Its inherent, timeless, and dates back to the earliest origins of man. We hunt.
We do not take that which is easy to acquire, because we apply intrinsic value to that which is rare or difficult to obtain.
If something takes effort to acquire, it, by that fact alone, becomes better to us. And moreover, the act of acquiring it sometimes carries even more value that its actual possession.
This is why we have sport.
What is sport? Rabbits don't play basketball. Sport is the act of the hunt, or the chase, or everything competitive, without the result.
The puck does not need to be in the net. It serves us no purpose for the ball to be in the bleachers, and to run back to where we started. The track star has no need met by being 100 yds further forward, especially when there are 15 impediments in his way that he must jump over to get there.
But... the act of the chase, putting the puck in the goal, putting the ball over the fence, running as fast as one can around a diamond back to the same point, or getting 100 yds down the track... and trying to prove that you're the best or the fastest at it... satisfies a need that hearkens back to the mammoth... which just proved better than tundra weeds.
That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
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