The 10th Annual Dining for Life is approaching.

On Monday, September 9th, and Tuesday, September 10th, dine at certain restaurants around Austin, and they will donate 15% to AIDS Services of Austin.

The list of participating restaurants is quite extensive, so it shouldn’t be hard to find a place you like, have a good meal, and have some of your cost go towards a good cause.

So, I mentioned that I got up early and went to the gym the other day. After being obnoxiously hyper for several hours, I decided to go back to the gym to check out the new Body Pump class that they’re offering. It was scheduled to start at 12:05, and I arrived at 12:00 to be informed that the class was already full. (Doh!) I forgot you need to show up 30 minutes early to sign up for the classes. I waited to see if there were any no-shows, but everyone was there so the instructor told me to come back at 5:30 to sign up for the 6:00 class. A little disappointed, I left and went home.

I kept busy for the next few hours, then started feeling lethargic. It was nearing 5:30, but I went ahead and dragged myself back to the gym. I got there at 5:35, and found out that the class was full.

WTF?!

I was told at the front desk that the class really started at 5:45, so they put the sign up sheet out at 5:15, and it had filled up quickly. I pointed out that their flyers said 6:00, then went back to talk to the instructor. It was 5:40 and she was standing outside the room, along with several class members. They were waiting for the current class to end. The group in there didn’t look like they were winding down, and I suspected they wouldn’t be out until just before 6. I checked the schedule posted outside the room, and it said the class started at 5:45. I asked the instructor what the deal was with the sign up. She couldn’t give me a straight answer, so I went back to the front desk and asked (politely) to speak to a manager.

When he came out I explained what had happened and that I was rather frustrated at having tried twice to get into a class and failed. (The first time was totally my fault, but not the second time!) The instructor apologized and said that there was some confusion and they were trying to work things out. While we spoke, half a dozen people stopped by the front desk to ask for the sign up sheet for the 6pm class, only to be turned away like I was. I suggested to the manager that they reprint their flyers with the correct start times for the classes. He concurred, and another woman walked up, slammed two flyers onto the counter, said, “you might want to fix these,” then stomped out of the gym.

The manager kept apologizing and said he would go immediately to send an email to corporate HG describing what was going on with the classes and suggesting they add a few more to accomodate all the interest. He said he’d mention he’d already talked to two very angry customers. I cocked an eyebrow at him ’cause I really had been calm and polite the whole time, and he smiled and said that it would seem more urgent that way.

Figuring there wasn’t anything else to do, I asked when the next class would be. The schedule posted next to the class room said 8:45 am on Thursday. But the flyers they had up front said 9:00 am. The manager had the girl behind the counter pull out the sign up sheet, and it said 8:15 am. I was boggling. I asked if they really knew when the class would begin. The manager looked flustered, then told the girl to go ahead and put my name on the sign up sheet. Then he initialed next to my name. I sighed and told them I’d arrive at 8:00 am, just in case.

So, that’s what I did. I got to the gym and the sign up sheet wasn’t out yet, so I wandered around the place for a few minutes then sat down in the waiting area at the front. Two other people were sitting there, and I suspected they were waiting for the same class. At 8:15, the clipboard came out. The three of us stood up. They signed up and I saw that my name was on the sheet, so I was somewhat appeased. I figured I’d have at least 30 minutes to kill, so I got on a bike and started a leisurely ride. Once an elliptical machine opened up, I hopped onto it and stepped up the pace of my work out a bit, though I still kept it low since I didn’t want to tire myself before the class even began.

At 8:45, I walked over to the classroom and saw the Body Pump instructors beginning to set up for the class. I then decided that 9 am must be the official start time. I waited a bit, then went ahead into the room and picked a spot. The room filled up quickly, and then trouble started. A woman next to me complained to the two instructors that the front desk put the sign up sheet out 45 minutes before the class. “That’s a lot of time to waste waiting for a class to start!” The instructors agreed and said that was wrong. The front desk isn’t supposed to put out the sign up sheet until 30 minutes before the class starts. “We’ll talk to the staff. They’re not supposed to put the sheet out that early. We get this straightened out.”

I started telling the group about my own problems and confusion with the class when a woman walked into the full room and loudly said, “I want you to know that I’m very upset. I got here at 8:30 to sign up for this class and it was already full.” She complained a bit more, then chatted with the instructors whom she already knew, then she left.

Finally, the class started at 9:00 am. By 9:10, I knew I was going to be in pain the next day. I got out of the class at 10:10, and they were still doing the cool down. (Dale had been expecting me home by 10.)

Man, Body Pump really did kick my ass. My arms and shoulders have been so sore today! I’m glad I finally got to try the class. I’m glad I got the exercise. And I will go to another class.

Next week.

Trippy! Little Bitcher just rebooted Dale’s PC! I don’t know how he managed to hit the right combo of keystrokes, but the little monster is lying across Dale’s keyboard, and the PC is rebooting.

Hm, now he’s launching various applications.

I woke up a little 6 am for some unknown reason. Then I couldn’t get back to sleep ’cause all my joints were aching and my back was really bothering me, and my brain decided it was just absolutely and completely wide awake, no negotiation possible. So after about 15 minutes of fighting internally, I figured I might as well go to the *gasp* gym and get on an ellipse machine. So I got up, washed my face, got dressed, then spent nearly an hour getting out the door. First I had to find my walkman. Then the batteries were dead. So I looked for the four spare rechargeables we have for the camera, but couldn’t find them. So I stole the batteries from the camera. Then opened up the walkman and discovered it only needed two batteries, and I knew where two were, so I got those. Then I switched the car’s keyless entry and ignition key to separate thingies on our keychain so I’d only have to take the keyless thing inside. And some time during all that I put Zoë outside. Finally, at 7:45, I left the house.

I ended up doing almost 40 minutes on an ellipse machine, burning 320 calories. I’d originally hoped to do an hour, but I was pretty pooped, since it was my first time at the gym in something like 3 months. (shame shame) Plus, Dale wanted the car at 9 am. So I went a couple of shops over and got a smoothie.

(I swear, the best part of working out is treating myself to a smoothie afterwards!)

Before I’d left the Smoothie Factory, endorphins had kicked in. It’s been two hours, and I am still insanely hyper. (As anyone who’s been chatting with me this morning can confirm.) I feel like I should go run laps around the house.

I would so love to keep up a schedule like this (with less hunting for shit before leaving), at least 3 times a week, but I doubt it’ll happen.

I’ll try though.

Last night Dale and I took Zo&eul; for a very late night walk. It was after midnight when we left. We kept a pretty simple course, and on the other side of the block we got a surprise and a laugh.

Some older man (probably in his 40s) had belatedly remembered that Tuesday was trash day, so we were passing by his house (on the opposite side of the street) as he was dragging his trash can to the curb. What caused a double take from me was realizing that the poor man was wearing nothing but a saggy pair of jockey shorts. I realized he was probably embarrassed at being caught out in his underwear, so I didn’t look his way again. I just kept my eyes on the sidewalk and hustled Zo&eul; along, hoping the man couldn’t see the smile I wasn’t able to prevent.

As we made it to the other side of the man’s house, I distinctly heard the sound of Dale trying to muffle laughter, and that nearly set me off. We managed to keep control until we reached the end of the block.

Pamela: Well! That was unexpected!

Dale: Oh man, I just couldn’t think of anything funny to say to that guy!

Pamela: What? Like, “nice evening! Nice underwear!”

Dale: I don’t know, but that was hilarious!

Dale: He probably got halfway down, saw us, and figured it was too late to turn around and run inside.

Pamela: I’ll bet that’s the last time he takes the trash out in the middle of the night without grabbing a robe first.

Dale: *snicker*

Pamela: *snicker*

The rest of the walk was without incident. But between big dogs and paunchy men in their underwear, taking Zo&eul; for walks in this neighborhood is becoming quite adventurous.

Bumper sticker sighting on the way to the movie:

My kid reads your honor roll student’s email

Dale was moody and restless earlier, so after gorging on pizza, I suggested a movie. It came down to Signs or Triple X, and we picked Signs. But when it came time to head out the door, we changed our minds to Triple X.

I’d scoffed at seeing this movie, knowing it was a total testosterone action flick, ’cause that type of movie isn’t usually to my tastes. (I’ve disliked both Mission: Impossible and the last two or three James Bond flicks.) So I went into the theater with low expectations figuring I’d at least get to ogle Vin. (Oooh, his voice gives me shivers!)

But Vin “Bald is SexXxy” Diesel surprised me again, as he did in Pitch Black. He was enjoyable to watch and more than just eye-candy. His performances may not be winning him Oscars any time soon, but he’s got a very expressive face and he knows how to turn on the charm.

Some of the dialog was corny. And some plot-building scenes seemed to go on a little too long. (C’mon! This is an action flick!) And there were a couple of over-the-top sappy bits. But overall the movie was pretty entertaining. The special effects were great and the stunts were pretty damn impressive.

And Vin Diesel is such a hottie!

I received some spam earlier. And while I’d usually delete it without viewing, the subject line caught my attention.

From: prentum@prentum.com

Subject: Heightening Shoes

Date: Sat, 17 Aug 2002 07:43:47 +0800

Dear Sir/lady,

Heightening Shoes, are you interest in it? Its points as below:

1. It’s suitable for the short of people with the design of its invisible heightening layers(insole). It can increase one’s height up to 6-10cm. The shoes contain no chemical medicine. This production is not medicinal shoe.

2. The heightening layer is invisible. With high layer in them, they feel no different than ordinary shoes.

3. The structural design is proportionate also streamline, and the insoles/heightening layers are made with elasticity material, so it is comfortable to the feet.

4. The ordinarily type of heightening shoes are without intakes, the ventilating type of heightening shoes are with intakes and more comfortable.

5. The technology of the heightening shoes is original with the China’s patent.
You can see details regarding this heightening shoe and other many footwear if you go to our website: www.prentum.com

Don’t hesitate to contact us if you are interest in this item.

Best regards.

Mr. Long Tan

Prentum Developing Corp.

Guilin, China

You know, I get teased a lot for being short (only 5′3″). Perhaps I should look into getting a pair of “heightening shoes.”

One of those items that Dale and I would rather spend money on is a new car.

After some serious talking, we decided that we don’t really need two cars at this time, let alone two fairly expensive cars. We checked around online, looked through Consumer Reports and AAA’s auto guide, visited dealerships, and test drove half a dozen cars. In the end, we traded in our aging Nissan Pathfinder and fairly new Mitsubishi Eclipse and went home with a 2002 Nissan Altima.

It was close, but we picked the Altima over the Volkwagon Passat. The cars were very similar in regards to interior size*, trunk size, and overall looks, though Dale favored the sleeker styling of the Altima while I liked the boxier looks of VW’s cars. Monday night, we sat down with paper and pen and wrote up a list of pros and cons for each car. The Altima won out because we didn’t come up with any cons and we could get one with a V6 engine for over $5,000 less than what a V6 Passat would have cost.

Though the purchasing process is always less than fun — the haggling, going back and forth on prices, threatening to leave, the sheer amount of time involved — overall we were satisfied with the final deal. And NOT because we felt like we’d come out on top, but because the deal was fair to all parties. If you’re in the market for a new car, go check out Maxwell Nissan North off Hwy 183, and ask for Michelle. Tell her Dale and Pam sent you.

* Some crack-brained VW salesman tried to convince us that an Altima is a compact-class car. After we’d commented that the Altima has a roomier interior than the Passat.

I’ve always thought that diamonds were overrated. Yes, I think they’re pretty and sparkly, but there are plenty of other things I like better and would rather spend my money on (or have my husband spend money on). What I didn’t know was that the tradition of giving a diamond engagement ring was a deliberate marketing ploy financed by the largest diamond cartel back in the late 1930’s.

“To induce men to buy diamonds for women, advertising should focus on the emotional impact of the “surprise” gift transaction. In the final analysis, a man was moved to part with earnings not by the value, aesthetics, or tradition of diamonds but by the expectation that a “gift of love” would enhance his standing in the eyes of a woman. On the other hand, a woman accepted the gift as a tangible symbol of her status and achievements.”

I understand the reasoning behind wanting to present a loved one with an expensive and valuable gift, or wanting to receive such a gift, but I dislike the idea that people would expect, or even demand, such gifts as proof of love. (And, sadly, I have known women who seemed more concerned with getting the engagement rings they wanted than with their relationships.) I know it’s not all bad. I have several engaged friends now, and they shopped for rings as couples and agreed together on their purchases.

But I’m still disturbed over the archaic notions that diamond = love, and the more expensive the diamond, the greater the proof of love. Not to mention the inherent sexism involved in expecting men to purchase these “gifts of love” for women. What big-ticket items are women supposed to give in return, as gestures of their love? Oh yeah, they don’t have to. They’re just supposed to stay home, cook, and raise the children. Right?

Yeah, I didn’t think so.

more QDB fun

#9322

<tag> Ouroboros: lets play Pong

<Ouroboros> Ok.

<tag> |         .

<Ouroboros> .         |

<tag> |     .

<Ouroboros>       .   |

<tag> |   .

<Ouroboros>           | .

<Ouroboros> Whoops

Once again, Aaron is supplying me with silly links for my entertainment. If you’re a regular on IRC, you may already be familiar with Quote Database, and even if you are, the Top 50 Quotes and Top 50-100 are pretty amusing.

Pamela: oh. my. god.

#5598

<Kazz> Do vampires have anuses? Cause that’s why I wouldn’t let this kid invade a vampire’s anus in this RPG, right, I was GMing, and his character was an Anus Shade, with the power to possess and control the anuses of people and animals.. and I figured that vampires don’t have anuses.

<Zaratustra> a vampire’s anus is present, but non-working.

<Zaratustra> like a network card without the appropriate driver.

<Kazz> Wow. You’re the biggest dork on Earth.

<Sharkey> And you’re DMing an rpg with Anus Shades.

Aaron: reminds me of how i ended up dming a rpg with a gay black unicorn
Pamela: dude….

Aaron: a black unicorn was killing the group, rick cast dweomer

Aaron: the random result was ‘the next thing the caster says is true’

Pamela: and he called it gay?

Aaron: so i say ‘nothing happens’ and he says ‘thats gay’

Pamela: AHAHAHAH

Aaron: i fell out of the fkn chair

Pamela: dale said, “that’s pretty funny”

Aaron: that will always be one of our classic moments in dnd

Aaron: along with grant being eatten by a gel cube and everyone beathing the cube to kill it, then
setting it on fire

Aaron: all while grant is alive inside

Pamela: hahahahahah

Ian Bell’s UV Body Art Gallery contains some amazing images. I can’t decide which one is my favorite. Either this one or this one.

“I’m a mean guy with a yo-yo and a tan. Why should that change anything?”

— The Hooded Fang

While flipping channels this evening, I came across Jacob Two Two Meets the Hooded Fang just as it was starting. Noting that the cast included Miranda Richardson and Mark McKinney, I figured I’d watch a bit of the movie to see how it was. I ended up watching it through to the end. It really was an amusing movie, and the boy who played Jacob was charmingly endearing. I really have to agree with this review of the movie.

“The actors are good and are used wisely, and constitute a surprising list of talent: Miranda Richardson, Maury Chaykin, Gary Busey (appropriately grotesque as the Hooded Fang), and Ice-T as a rapping judge. Oh, and Matt McKinney of Kids in the Hall fame. Many of these characters are real people that Jacob Two-two encounters in the real world, and become (a la Wizard of Oz) warped players in his hallucination/dream of a world where children are tried and convicted of minor crimes and sent to Slime Island, a place where there is no fun or laughter.

It’s a bit creepy, a bit hokey, a bit funny, a bit sad–it’s a lot of things, really, and is definitely a film that more people should see.”

Check it out if you can find it.

I was going to color my hair in a manner similar to Safy’s, except my hair is dark and the dyed part was going to be blue, but you can look at her photo and get the idea.

Unfortunately, the bleach I was using was taking for-EVER to lighten my hair, so I gave up after an hour and washed it out. Now that part of my hair is a decidedly orang color. (Good thing orange is my happy color!) Since I don’t think it’s light enough to get a good blue color in it, I think I’m going to let it stay this way for a few days, then lighten it more, then add the blue.

You know, it’s really rather hard to photograph the back of your own head (without using a mirror). I think I took about 8 photos (yay for digital cameras!) and only got one semi-decent photo. I finally had Dale take a photo, then took some mirror pics myself.

(more…)

I’ve known that duct tape has many uses. I even know the trick of using it and and old T-shirt to make a corset pattern.

But I didn’t know that duct tape was quite so versatile until I saw the Duct Tape Guys web site. The fashion and art galleries are really quite cool. They even provide tips on the best (and safest) ways to duct tape someone to a wall.

Many many many thanks to Aaron for the link. I now have a really strong desire to go out and buy some rolls of duct tape and start playing!

can’t focus

can’t think

damn efnet wouldn’t let me set ‘morning_angst’ as my nick

and there’s just never a good time for the dog to be barfing up leaves, mud, and bug bits

Zoë and I had a bit of a scare earlier, on our evening walk. We were about two blocks up and over when I heard a dog collar jingling in a yard we were approaching. I figured the dog was behind the fence, so we kept walking. As we started to cross the driveway, and HUGE dog trotted towards us out of the shadows of the house. (It was about 11 pm.)

Zoë is very timid around strange dogs, and even if she wouldn’t, this dog was large enough to worry us both. It appeared to be a heavily overweight Rottweiler. As the dog approached, I slowed down and pulled Zoë (all 20 lbs of her) in close to my side since the dog wasn’t yet behaving threateningly. I was thinking “if you run, they will chase,” and I didn’t want my reaction to panic Zoë.

We ened up coming to a dead stop in the middle of the driveway as this huge dog put itself nose to nose with Zoë. I could tell she was scared, but she was trying not to show it, so I thought it might be a good time to slowly move away again. But as I tried to step back, my movement paniced Zoë who yelped and darted back around my legs. The Rottweiler moved to follow her, so without thinking I stepped in its path and tried to push it away while trying to yank Zoë from between my feet so I wouldn’t trip and fall.

Fortunately, the dog stopped advancing, and I didn’t fall down, though I did step on Zoë’s foot, and I was able to lead her away. I made myself walk steadily while keeping Zoë close to my side, all the while darting looks over my shoulder. The dog stayed at the end of the driveway and watched us walk away. I waited ’til we were a few houses down before I stopped to check and make sure I hadn’t hurt Zoë when I’d stepped on her paw. She seemed to be just fine and already appeared to have forgotten about the incident.

I remained shaken for a while longer. I cut the walk shorter than I’d planned, and spent too much time thinking, “what if?”

“What if the dog had been aggressive?”

“What if Zoë had charged it?”

and

“What the hell was I thinking trying to body block a Rottweiler?!”

Well, I wasn’t thinking. Not at that point. I just knew that a big dog was in some way threatening my puppy, a much smaller creature in my care, and I stepped in to protect her. I think my reaction was foolish, but I don’t think I could have done anything else. And I’m very very glad that nothing worse happened than giving us a little scare.

Nothing can make you look (and feel) quite like an idiot as forgetting to attach your resume to an email sent to a prospective employer

If it means winning a free book, then hell yes!

Dear James, here’s my link.

Does this mean I qualify?

I could use that book.