Friday, July 31, 2009


Can they really be setting up already?


Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Her guide to having the perfect first-date mojo...

This afternoon, while out running errands for the museum, my coworker, Nora, and I decided to stop for a quick lunch at Subway.

There were two Subway employees behind the counter. Both women.

The younger of the two was around 20 and looked like the recent victim of a vampire attack. Her face was a bloodless white color that stood out in sharp contrast to her greasy, black hair. Nothing about her screamed healthy – a point further emphasized as she turned her head and hacked snot into the crook of her elbow.

The man whose sandwich she was working on looked at us nervously, and stepped back from the counter.

The second employee was older – probably in her mid to late 40s – but was missing a significant number of teeth. This gave the unfortunate impression that she was in her late 70s or early 80s.

Nora and I watched as the older woman took the order of the male customer directly in front of us, and then paused and look up at us in confusion. Apparently, she had already forgotten what he had said.

You could see her mind working for a couple of seconds before his order came back to her and she reached for the pre-portioned chicken. As she did, she looked back at us and exclaimed, “Not my fault! I’m sick!”

Except, since she didn’t have any teeth, the last part came out in a juicy, saliva-filled, “I’m fthick!

Nora: “[Without missing a beat] Well, then, you are obviously the person we want preparing our food.”

This comment went unnoticed by the older toothless employee, but vampire girl definitely heard it. If looks could kill, her scowl would have definitely done the trick.

Not willing to risk our health by eating anything prepared by the toothless Typhoid Mary or her hacking vampire sidekick, Nora and I turned and left.

I am not a big fast food fan in the first place, but this pretty much guarantees that I won’t be stepping foot back in a Subway any time soon.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Oh, if only Trevor and I could dance...

Who said Fair Park was boring?

From: Fair Park
Sent: Wednesday, July 15, 2009 1:34 PM
To: Fair Park
Subject: Dallas SWAT

Would you let the campus members know that on August 12 and 13 the Dallas Police SWAT team will be training in the Cotton Bowl. Their snipers will be using live rounds so at certain points of the day gun shots will be heard.


From: Fair Park
Sent: Monday, July 27, 2009 1:50 PM
To: Fair Park
Subject: DART Emergency Readiness Training

DART will be conducting an emergency readiness training session on July 29, 30 and 31st from 9AM – 12 noon each day. Access to Fair Park through Gates 2, 3 and 4 will be limited during those times due to this training. There will be fire engines, Dallas police cars, DART police cars, HAZMAT unit, ambulances, etc at Gate 3 (Washington). There will be a catastrophe simulation of various accidents conducted each day. Sirens will sound and there may be actors lying on the tracks simulating accident victims. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause. If there are any questions, please let us know. Thank you.

Friday, July 24, 2009

When a lot effort yields nothing.....

I just spent an hour driving around Lakewood looking for the new issue of The Advocate. It is a free publication available pretty much everywhere. Except, of course, when you are looking for a copy.

The crowning glory of the wild, Advocate goose hunt was when one of my coworkers had the brilliant idea of trying the Lakewood Public Library. Turns out, they have about five hundred copies of the latest Advocate magazine right inside their front door. I know this because I could see them stacked neatly on a rack to the left of the main entrance.

But was the library open?


I am but a puppet on a string for the amusement of some higher power...

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Today is the kind of day when you get stuck behind a tractor going 7 mph in a 40...

Apparently, Lucy is off to live on a farm with midget bovines somewhere in east Texas:


From: Melissa
Sent: Thursday, July 23, 2009 12:13 PM
To: Deals
Subject: FW: Goodbye Lucy


From: Evelyn
Sent: Mon 7/20/2009 9:46 AM
To: Lucy’s coworkers
Subject: Goodbye Lucy

Lucy the cow is leaving today for her new home on the farm. That is not a euphemism for an unhappy end, she really is going to live in a pasture with room to run and play. She will live with other cows-miniature cows, so she can still be queen, and she should soon slim down and feel better.


Sigh…I can only hope that the mini cows will be better roommates than the wooly yard art she’s been forced to coexist with for the past several years.

And now, my goodbyes:

My dearest Lucy,

Sorry I didn’t get by before you left to give you an apple. I brought one in to work last week when I heard you were leaving, and intended to swing by for one last (bittersweet) visit. Alas! I am a coward. I’ve never been any good at saying goodbye. Rest assured, though. You will be missed. Especially by me.

May your cud taste sweeter as you start your new life far away from those two oversized jacka$$es.

Your number one fan,

Sniff! Dallas will never be the same…

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

At least it is never boring at my house…

“Life isn't weird: it's just the people in it.”

- Author Unknown

Can we discuss my neighbors?

My NEW neighbors?

Yes, I’ve left the Toolson’s behind for a whole new kind of bizarre behavior at my new address.

We have “Crazy Neighbor Joe” behind us. He lives in a house that somehow manages to look like an apartment complex from our backyard. I’m not sure how this was accomplished, but I’m pretty sure it has something to do with all the extra living areas he recently built over his garage. There is a balcony up there, too, that has a view of both our backyard and the master bedroom. One morning, not long after I moved in, I awoke to discover Joe on his balcony with his binoculars watching me sleep. We now have blinds on all the windows.

Joe also owns a World War II tank that he plans to one day park in his backyard. He has obtained the appropriate artillery, and told me he has plans to randomly fire shells into north Dallas. Apparently, Joe thinks it would be hilarious to watch the DPD run around and try to figure out where a 60 year old tank shell came from. I’d normally be worried, but I have decided that I shouldn’t be too concerned until he actually figures out how to get his tank into his backyard. Since it will mostly like involve him removing part of our fence, it is not like he could sneak his tank in without me noticing. Until then, I’ll be listening for any breaking news stories about WWII shrapnel in the greater Dallas area.

Joe also has been married several times – mostly to women he describes as “gold diggers”. Apparently, his favorite wife (who didn’t achieve gold digger status) was Mexican. I got the impression that he loved her a lot, and even played father to her two kids. Unfortunately, the marriage only lasted six months because Joe “got sick of eating tacos.”

That Joe. He’s a catch.

I have no idea how many times he’s been married since then, but his current wife should be concerned. My next door neighbor, Becky, told me that she ran into Joe in the alley while taking out the garbage one night, and he spontaneously asked her if she wanted to run away to Hawaii with him. Becky and Joe have lived across the alley from each other for years, but their interactions have been limited to brief conversations in the alley about the raccoons that randomly ransack the neighborhood trash. I guess in Joe’s world, nothing says love like a short exchange over a garbage can.

Before our new fence went up, Joe would frequently head out to the alley to tell us about all the neighborhood gossip. I, for instance, know that the house two houses down from Joe used to be owned by some guy from Lithuania who liked soup and loud parties. I’m not sure why this was on Joe’s list of things I needed to know about the neighborhood, but I am now full of such random tidbits.

Joe also told me about his favorite method of getting rid of unwanted guests. He has a fake grenade that has a removable pin. Whenever he decides he has people around that he’d rather be rid of, he grabs the grenade, pulls out the pin and starts screaming about blowing them up. Apparently, this is a very effective method of clearing a room, and has the additional perk of keeping “those annoying a$$holes away”.

So, yeah. That’s Crazy Neighbor Joe. Luckily, he is also pretty paranoid and told us repeatedly that we needed to get a good, solid, wooden fence to keep us safe from “the crazy people that wonder up and down the neighborhood alleys”. We couldn’t have agreed more. The fence was one of the first things we took care of, and it has had the added benefit of keeping our interactions with Joe at a minimum since its installation. We also have plans of planting a nice, big Red Oak tree to block his view of our house and yard from his balcony. The fall planting season cannot get here soon enough.

And then there are our Naked Neighbors that live next door. Yes. Naked. They are mid to late 40-somethings that like to skinny dip in their backyard pool. A pool, might I add, that I have a perfect view of from my master bedroom. This was reason number two for a good, solid wood fence. Surprisingly, chain link does little to shield blatant nudity.

My favorite Naked Neighbor story was when we had the guy from Budget Blinds over to show us the blackout options for our bedroom. This was a couple of mornings after I awoke to discover Crazy Neighbor Joe watching me sleep, and decided to fast track the window treatments in the boudoir. Anyway, Jim with the blind company was holding up a blackout sample to the window with the view of my next door neighbor’s pool. As if on cue, Naked Neighbor decided to stand up in his hot tub – effectively mooning everyone in my bedroom. Jim, doing his best to act professional, pretended not to notice and continued on with his blind spiel as if he wasn’t looking at my next door neighbor’s a$$. That was, until Naked Neighbor spread his legs and bent over. Poor Jim. He couldn’t help but exclaim, “Oh, God! No! No! That's just...that's just not right! Does this happen often?” We spent the next fifteen minutes in deep Naked Neighbor discussion – during which Naked Neighbor’s girlfriend happened on to the hot tub scene.

It was at this point that Jim told us he was going to do everything in his power to get our blinds installed as soon as humanly possible.

Lucky for Jim, he was out in his van getting the necessary paperwork in order when Naked Neighbor decided to stand up on the elevated wall next to his hot tub and do a cannonball into the swimming pool below. There are no secrets between me and naked neighbor. I’ve seen him it all.

In other words, I’ve traded the poster people for bad parenting for Looney Tunes and a couple of nudists.

Awe. Some.


The fig tree at my new house has fruit! I cannot begin to tell you how much this excites me. Weeeeeeeeee!

It is a bit of a challenge to get to the ripe figs before the birds do, so I've been pulling them off once they start to turn red.

I've decided the tree is still pretty young, which explains why the figs are a little on the small side. Since I have no plans to move any time soon, though, I have years to discover whether or not I am right.

Now, if I only knew how to make fig newtons...

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

On idiot proofing...

I saw the following during a recent trip to Ikea:

Granted, I'm sure the need to label functioning toilets from floor displays increased tenfold after movies like JACKA$$ came out. I just find it humorous. Because, really, if you use a display toilet you are most likely a jacka$$. It has nothing to do with your level of intelligence. Only your level of maturity.

Unless, of course, you really are that stupid, and then…well, I’ve got nothing.

I know this probably an add for two pairs of shoes for $25. But couldn’t it just as easily be for an individual shoe that costs $25 ($50 for the pair)? Considering the disclaimer in the Ikea toilet, I feel that clarification is needed in all aspects of my life. Plus, I was always told never to assume anything – especially when it comes to the wild, wild world of retail.

But it is probably just me.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Thong-Gate 2009...

Note to self: If Auntie Mimi asks to see a pair of naughties you received at a co-ed wedding shower, just say, “No”. Otherwise, the next thing you hear will be the laughter as she holds them up for all to see. This will promptly be followed by the passing of the unmentionables around the room. Several, older female (i.e. 70+) party goers will try in vain to figure out "where all the stringy parts go" as their husbands look on and giggle like little school girls.

Oh, and your father? Yeah, he’ll capture the whole thing on film.

Your mother will be tricked in to looking inside the pink Vicky S bag. After your sister makes a completely inappropriate comment about all the future grandbabies that may be conceived wearing such an apparatus, Grammy Pammy will turn bright red, shove the naughties back into the bag with a look of disgusted horror, and excuse herself to go to the bathroom.

Meanwhile, you will still be seated at the front of the room, beat red and completely powerless over the situation.

Dear God…

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

A completely hypothetical situation…

Dramatic Chipmunk...
Say whaaaaat?!

For the sake of argument, let’s say I know a guy that has a tendency to speak his mind. Literally. Like he has no filter to speak of, and tends to say what ever pops into his head.

And let’s say that this particular guy is quite the ladies man, and dates around.

One day, for no particular reason, the man in question decides to tell you that a woman you randomly see around town makes “chipmunk noises in bed”.

Would you be able to think of anything else in her presence?

How to really improve your feng shui (or not)...

Thanks to the museum renovations, my phone and computer are now located in different offices. I find this to be very special. I kind of need both my phone and computer together to work properly and get my job done, so this is an interesting development. Never a dull moment around here, let me tell you!

My regular office – with my phone – is about to have its ceiling removed for extensive duct work. Apparently, this could take a month or longer.

So I can still work at the office and print in the meantime (I don’t have a printer at home), my computer has been moved into the accountant’s office. The accountant is part time, but it is still HER office. And I’ve been allocated just enough space to work without bothering her or anyone else. My desk has been shoved into a tiny corner, and I have barely enough room between my desk and the wall for a chair.

At least I still have the phone in my old office. Until the ceiling removal begins, I can still take occasional excursions to visit my phone, my plants and enjoy the solitude.

Sigh…I miss my hole! Dusty and loud as it may be.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

I'm just saying is all...

Sonic Ice

I don’t care HOW hot it is outside! When a piece of Sonic ice accidentally lands in your bra and gets trapped under your left boob, it is COLD!

It's basically the "Tragedy of King Lear" but with animated penguins...

My landlord at the house I’ve been renting for the past four years (before Trevor and I bought our new home earlier this spring) is actually a family member of mine. As a favor to her for being such a wonderful landlord to me and waving things like the “Pet Deposit”, I offered to keep the utilities in my name until she could sell the house this summer. I’ve been billing her monthly, and it has all gone very smoothly.

Closing is scheduled for this Thursday at 1 PM, so I decided to call and start closing out the various accounts this morning before work. Here is the email update I sent my former landlord earlier today:

From: Deals
Sent: Tuesday, July 14, 2009 9:18 AM
To: Landlord
Subject: RE: Utilities…


The gas (Atmos) at [???] Street is being taken out of my name tomorrow. The gas will still stay on for up to 30 days afterwards, they are just doing a final meter reading tomorrow. After that, I will no longer be responsible for the bill.

TXU is turning the power off between 3 PM and midnight on Thursday. For some reason, turning if off on Friday wasn’t an option. It was either Thursday in the late afternoon or Saturday. Since closing is at 1 PM, I figured this would be fine. Plus, this allows the new owners to initiate service between now and then so there will be no interruption (assuming they call today or tomorrow).

The water (surprise, surprise) is a problem. For whatever reason, the line is busy and/or I keep getting disconnected. I did speak to a customer service rep, though, and she told me that they experience a larger volume of calls during the summer months. She, however, could not schedule for the water to be turned off. At this rate, I’ll have the water turned off sometime in mid-October. Stupid City…


I finally was able to get in the holding pattern for a human representative around 10:30 AM. Knowing it was most likely going to take awhile (and just hoping against hope I didn’t get disconnected again), I simply put my work phone on “speaker” and went about my work day. Fifty seven minutes and eighteen seconds later (I have a counter on my phone that keeps track of the length of any given phone call), I found myself finally connected to a Water Department employee. I was on the phone with her for less than three minutes. The water will be turned off either late Thursday afternoon or early Friday morning.

Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?


Considering Dallas Water Utilities is the only game in town and they seem to thrive on slapping their customers with late fees (thanks to a system that often postmarks a bill on the day that it is due), you would think they could afford to hire more phone representatives during their own self-described “summer busy season”. Personally, I’m not convinced that the lady I spoke to this morning wasn’t the only employee in the office answering the phone.

I am also fascinated by the Customer Service Supervisors (not to be confused with the regular old reps over at Billing and Account Information). This time I only had call three of the five numbers listed on their website to find a working number (the first two had been disconnected) and an actual human being. The Customer Service Supervisor (yes, SUPERVISOR) was completely unhelpful, however, couldn’t cancel the service at my old address, and was only able to provide me with a fax number where I could submit my request to be processed (hopefully) at some point in the next 40 business days.

If I had a choice (which I don’t), I’d totally change water providers. Or cancel my service all together. Sadly, when it comes to water, I kind of need it (drinking, showering, etc.). My hands are tied.

Somewhere out there, a Water Department big wig is laughing at me and mocking my pain.

The ba$tard…

The downside of all that positive thinking...

Today is like yesterday. Only louder. And with no AC.


Monday, July 13, 2009

For no reason (other than my own amusement, of course)...

Because of all the renovation-related noise and dust, I got to work from home following my 2:30 PM meeting. It all went very smoothly until the server started acting up and my remote email access was interrupted.

My coworker also lost her connection to the museum’s server, and we started emailing back and forth using our personal email accounts to pass the time until our connection to the server was restored.

Here is part of that thread:

(Note: Chloe is Nora's sweet but not-too-bright cat that has a random list of kitty aliments)

From: Deals
Sent: Monday, July 13, 2009 4:10 PM
To: Nora
Subject: Haskell is staring at me...

From: Nora
Sent: Mon 7/13/2009 4:10 PM
To: Deals
Subject: RE: Haskell is staring at me...

As he should be – he wants a monkey.

From: Deals
Sent: Monday, July 13, 2009 4:13 PM
To: Nora
Subject: RE: Haskell is staring at me...

Or kibble. But a monkey would be fun, too. Unless he was afraid of said monkey (very possible), and then, no.

How does Chloe feel about monkeys? Maybe a monkey poked the holes in her eyes when you weren't looking?

From: Nora
Sent: Mon 7/13/2009 4:15 PM
To: Deals
Subject: RE: Haskell is staring at me...

Chloe is scared of the screaming monkey toy we have at the house. So no more monkeys for us.

What is Gypsy doing?

From: Deals
Sent: Monday, July 13, 2009 4:24 PM
To: Nora
Subject: RE: Haskell is staring at me...

Periodically licking my leg and running her lampshade into the backs of my calves. You know, same ole', same ole'.

From: Nora
Sent: Monday, July 13, 2009 4:48 PM
To: Deals
Subject: RE: Haskell is staring at me...

Why is she wearing a lampshade and is she dancing on any tables?


When 5 PM finally came and went with no server connection, Nora and I both decided to call it a day.

Aren’t museum renovations fun?! Blah…

Happy Monday (grumble, grumble)...

Much banging on the wall directly outside my office. And dust. And loud drilling.

I see a headache in my future.

Thursday, July 09, 2009

A cowboy set her soul on fire...

It is THAT time of the year again, folks!

All day I face the barren waste without the taste of water, cool water.
Old Dan & I with throats burned dry & souls that cry for water, cool clear water.

Date: Tue, 7 Jul 2009 10:57:27 -0700
From: Lampasas Church
Subject: Good News!!!!
To: Church Congregation

Out of 31 contestants Alex placed third in the Little Miss Spring Ho pageant. Alex is the daughter of Scott and Monica. Look for her picture on the bulletin board in the parish hall. She will also be on the Spring Ho float.

Congratulations Alex

From: Deals
To: Auntie Mimi
Sent: Tuesday, July 07, 2009 8:04 PM
Subject: FW: Good News!!!!

I love this.

From: Auntie Mimi
To: Deals
Subject: Re: Good News!!!!
Date: Tue, 7 Jul 2009 22:17:49 -0500

What a hoot!

Love & alpacas keep her young...

This was taken yesterday afternoon on my way home from work – mere moments before the sky opened up and hail the size of golf balls started pelting my car.

The torrential downpour and balls of ice were all the more special because I got my car detailed on Monday. Normally, July signals the end of the rainy season. So I thought I was safe. But, really, I should have known when Finfrock took Tuesday night off and the chick replacing him droned on and on about our negative chances for rain and the triple digit highs that would be plaguing us throughout the week. To be fair, it was 103 according to my car when I left the museum at 5:30 PM. But it was 71 when I arrived home six miles later. I almost needed a sweater.

And since our freaking sprinkler system has yet to be completed (thanks to the City, not the sprinkler install guys), the sudden deluge has left my yard a muddy mess. I wouldn’t be bothered that much by it (hey, rain equals free water), but my dogs Trevor’s dog likes to wallow in it. There is nothing quite like returning home from the gym first thing in the morning to find gray-green paws where white ones should be. Of course, Alley couldn’t understand why I wasn’t more excited. She thinks mud is great (wiggle, wiggle, wiggle). It is a good thing she dries so quickly…

Tuesday, July 07, 2009

By “curvy” do you mean “fat”?

I had my first wedding dress fitting today. I’m not sure what I would have done if my friend (and bridesmaid), Mandy, wasn’t able to be there. Because, really, DO the shoes look okay with the dress? How much boobage is too much boobage? And do I really walk THAT weird in flats?

I do everything by committee nowadays.

In the end, though, only a little blood was shed (yes, blood WAS shed. A pin caught me on the way out of the dress – who said this was going to be a painless process?!), and I’m off the hook for a few weeks until fitting number two. Until then, I am under strict orders not to gain or lose an ounce. Did I mention that I tend to lose weight when under stress? When I moved in May, I lost five pounds. When I was a deb way, way, WAY back in 2001 they had to do an emergency fitting to keep me from flashing the masses during my full court bow.

Not that my physical body ever really changes. I’ve been the same size for the last fifteen years or so (yes, the aforementioned deb gown still fits) – I just randomly lose weight in areas that effect the way a dress hangs on my frame. And now that I’ve vocalized that here on my blog, my body will most likely do something else that I’m not expecting. Because my body and I are rarely on speaking terms anyway, and it likes to go traitor on me and do things to keep me on my toes. Like today, for example. My neck and upper back are killing me. Why? I dunno. But it sucks – especially when driving and changing lanes. I think it is my body’s way of reminding me that thirty is just over a year away, and my warranty ran out a good ten years ago.


Monday, July 06, 2009

Sometimes it is hard being me...

Part of me thinks it would kind of be cool if the people around me spontaneously broke into dance.

The other part knows I'd be annoyed. Mainly because I can't dance and was once injured while trying to do the Macarena at a summer camp mixer when I was twelve.

Saturday, July 04, 2009


We took Haskell to the Park Cities Forth of July parade this morning. He got so many dog biscuits thrown at him from the participating floats that he started picking them up and bringing them to me for “safe keeping”. Never thought Haskell would opt not to eat something – especially cookies!

We left Alley at home to take care of Gypsy, who is back in the lampshade. On Thursday evening, I discovered blood in her stool. A trip to the vet Friday morning revealed that she has something called “Colitis”. No one knows what caused it. It might have been something she ate or got in to. Or it could have been brought on by stress – possibly over the sprinkler installation that has been going on in the yard all week.

Additionally, both of her back paws are infected. This is due to her allergies. I knew she had been chewing on the more than normal, but I had been giving her regular doses of Benadryl in an effort to keep it under control. Apparently this time, though, the Benadryl wasn’t enough. So in addition to the medicine and special food she is taking to fix the Colitis, Gypsy is also on a pretty heft dose of Temaril-p – a prescription allergy medication with a steroid. The vet also shaved in between the pads on her back paws, and gave me a prescription ointment to apply twice a day (hence the reason for her sporting the Elizabethan collar).

Poor baby.

This afternoon we are heading to Cedar Hill for the evening. My mother just moved there and has a house overlooking Lake Joe Pool. We’ve started referring to it as “The Resort” because her property includes such amities as a salt water pool, tennis and basketball courts, and a helicopter pad. Because everyone needs a helipad, right?!

Anyway, my mom has headed to Durango for the holiday, so we’ve got the place to ourselves. Things have been so crazy lately that I’m looking forward to a bit of rest and relaxation. So are our pups. And thanks to all the planned fireworks displays around the lake, we should have a pretty good view of those as well.

Happy Independence Day!

Friday, July 03, 2009

On shoes for the bridesmaids...

Despite a genetic predisposition for the love of shoes, I find myself completely disinterested in them. I'd wear my Birkenstocks year-round if I could.

So you can imagine what it was like to take me shoe shopping. Avia and Mandy deserve some kind of medal, I swear. They both have the patience of saints.

Here are some shoe possibilities from DSW:

Even though the charcoal and ivory dresses are a satiny material, I see no reason to go all out and dye shoes to match. I'd much rather have the bridesmaids buy something comfortable that they'd want to wear again. A black, strappy sandal seems like an important staple in any wardrobe. And it is not like any of the shoes will be all that visible under the floor length skirts in the first place.

I'm sure this fashion faux pas will land me an eternity in shoe shopping hell. I apologize if this post is causing any dead, famous shoe designers to roll in their graves. I guess I’m a hopeless case. I would totally have the entire bridal party in flip flops if I thought I could get away with it!

Thursday, July 02, 2009


I’m saw this on THINK TONK and it totally cracked me up.


Wednesday, July 01, 2009

On teachers (or at least teachers that work over the summer)...

Teachers are insane. Or maybe I’m insane for dealing with them. Or at least the ones crazy enough to still be working in July. Whatever happened to summer vacation?

STORY I: A certain school had a program in April that was partially funded by a group called AP. AP paid for just over half of the $250 fee. The school was responsible for the rest. I was promised repeatedly that the money was coming, but the school’s half never arrived. So, I started sending firm letters to the school’s principle. This resulted in a check being cut for the amount in question. Unfortunately for us, the check was made out to AP and mailed to AP’s parent group, BT - even though the invoice was from my museum and clearly stated that all checks should be made out to us and sent to OUR mailing address.

Oh, and since the AP and BT offices are run by a bunch of monkeys, the money has gone astray.

STORY II: A teacher wants us to coordinate bus tours for two groups of middle schoolers in July and August. But she wants nothing to do with the planning and refuses to even choose a topic for the tour (note: we offer over 20 different tours, so I could use some help narrowing down an appropriate tour focus). Her last email literally said (and yes I am quoting here), “Sorry it took me a while to get back to you. I've been out of the office. Anyway, would it be alright if we looked to y'all to come up with a tour that would be best fit for the kids? You're the expert! So if we could just show up and enjoy that would be terrific!”


STORY III: A summer camp wanted the museum to come out and teach the kids over a two week period, but they gave us very little heads up (they called us on Thursday for a camp scheduled to start on Tuesday). Thinking of it as an interesting challenge, a teacher friend of mine and I developed the curriculum, bought supplies and implemented the program for a small group of local middle school students.

Originally, the program’s cumulating event was scheduled for July 2nd, but then last week it was changed to July 1st. And on June 30th, it changed back to July 2nd. So, the summer camp’s obviously a well-organized machine. Right...I’m glad you are going along with me on that.

Anyway, we conducted videotaped interviews on Tuesday (yes, that would be June 30th, 2009), and I received an email late the same afternoon asking if the interviews would be edited and ready for public viewing on Thursday morning. I think the actual language was, “Will the interviews taped today be turned into a documentary for Thursday’s cumulating event for the parents?”

Um, no.

I wrote back saying that we had the technology to capture the interviews, but not to string them together and turn them into documentary films. Especially, on such short notice.

This prompted a phone call where the teacher asked if there was anything I would be able to show during Thursday’s event. For the children.

When did I become such a sucker?

Me: “I can probably have the rough footage available for the participating students and their parents to view Thursday morning. We just don’t have the technology to turn it into a documentary or proper video presentation in less than 48 hours.”

Teacher: “That’s fine. Can we project it on the big screen in front of the entire school?”

Me: “Um, I guess.”

Teacher: “Great! Do you have a projector?”

Me: “Actually, no. The museum just bought a Mac for this project, and we don’t have a projector that is compatible with it or an adapter. Do you have a Mac-ready projector we can use? Or a cord adapter?”

Teacher: “I think so.”

Me: “Okay, think we are good to go then.”

Teacher: “Great!”

Then, today, the teacher emailed me again asking if I could bring a projector. And a screen.

Whaaaaat? Wait a minute!

I wrote her back, and reminded her of my problem with the Mac and the compatibility problems with our projector. As for the screen, the museum has one, but its location (thanks to the renovations) is a bit of a mystery at the moment. I promised her I would look for it, though (which I did this afternoon with no luck).

I received an email back from the teacher stating that she forgot about the compatibility issue and would check around to see what she could come up with. She eluded to a couple of her coworkers that were Mac users and might have a projector or adapter I could borrow.

I brought the laptop home and have been working tonight to figure out the finer details of operating a Mac and iMovie (I’ve never used a Mac before, so there is a bit of a learning curve). While the Tuesday's interview footage was downloading, I logged into my work email and discovered yet another email from the lead teacher. It was time stamped at 7:30 PM:

“I think we have found a projector, but we need to know if you have a Mac cord.”


I wrote her back and explained (yet again) the problem with the Mac and the projector.

Of course, since my email was sent at 9:15 PM, it is doubtful that she’ll see it before tomorrow morning.

Did I mention that the museum is providing this entire program completely free of charge? No? Yeah. We are getting paid absolutely nothing to deal with this nonsense.


The good news is that the footage is downloaded and ready to be seen - if only from a computer screen. Hopefully, that will be enough for the students and their adoring parents. If I didn’t have to be at the school before 9 AM tomorrow morning, I would totally go and buy a stupid adapter for the museum’s projector.

Grumble, grumble…

The long, holiday weekend cannot come soon enough.

Neither here nor there...

Typical interoffice correspondence:

From: Nora
Sent: Wednesday, July 01, 2009 3:44 PM
To: Deals
Subject: Hurts

My butt hurts.

Happy Canada Day!

“I am not a Starfleet commander, or T.J. Hooker. I don't live on Starship NCC-170, or own a phaser. And I don't know anybody named Bones, Sulu, or Spock. And no, I've never had green alien sex, though I'm sure it would be quite an evening. I speak English and French, not Klingon! I drink Labatt's, not Romulan ale! And when someone says to me 'Live long and prosper', I seriously mean it when I say, 'Get a life'. My doctor's name is not McCoy, it's Ginsberg. And tribbles were puppets, not real animals. PUPPETS! And when I speak, I never, ever talk like every. Word. Is. Its. Own. Sentence. I live in California, but I was raised in Montreal. And yes, I've gone where no man has gone before, but I was in Mexico and her father gave me permission! My name is William Shatner, and I am Canadian!”
- William Shatner