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I am why I can’t have nice things!

Aug 31st, 2010 by Meetzorp

A squillion years ago, more or less, I graduated from highschool and my grandparents gave me a really, really, really, really nice set of pens (one ballpoint, one fountain).

I, being the hamfisted mutant that I am, managed to break the ballpoint pen within a year. Moreover, being an ignorant cluck, I tried to “fix” it via the “miracle” of Super Glue.

That didn’t work so well.

A good 12 years or more after breaking said pen, it occurred to me to look up that particular brand of pen (Pelikan) online and see if I could maybe replace the broken one because I really liked that pen. I soon realized how very posh those pens were and that replacing it was not likely to happen. I thought, just for kicks, I’d see if, since these pens were so very grand, they might have a repair service.

As it turns out, they do, and as it turns out, they were willing to take my pen, which had been broken for over a decade and repair it. Even more amazingly, they did so and didn’t charge me anything besides shipping! This is the sort of thing that should pull in a few more exclamation points, but I try to hold myself to Terry Pratchett’s aphorism about exclamation points these days.

Better than new!

So now, I have a really fancy pen once again, and I’m just tickled to bits and pieces. My grandparents who gave me these pens died two years ago, and I miss them like crazy. From time to time, I’ll think of something I’d like to tell Grandma, or think of one of Grandpa’s pranks or inventions and just want to see them both and hang out some more.

I guess they were pretty pleased with my educational attainments and aspirations (although I regularly feel bad that I haven’t been able to do more with all of that schooling) and whenever I pull out my fancypants pen, I can think of that.

Some folks are total fountain pen nerds, so I am including this close-up of the nib in my fountain pen. I think I might eventually have it changed out for a finer tip, but it does work quite nicely.

Posted in Family, Photo entries, Recommendations, dumb things I have done | 2 Comments »

Woodchuck Day

Aug 30th, 2010 by Meetzorp

Now, if I had any sense of the fitness of things, I’d save this story for February 2, which is not only Groundhog Day, it is also the birthday of the Grandma involved.

Alas, I am not that organized, and so, you get a story about hibernating groundhogs on the second-to-last day of August.

In the 1950s, when my mom and her siblings were little kids, my grandparents lived with Grandpa’s family on a farm in Ohio. The house was a pretty standard rural farmhouse from all indications. A bit primitive, but solid and capable of more or less squeezing everybody in. Sure, you had to chase hens out of the outhouse before you took a whizz, but if you kept your sense of humor about things, it worked reasonably well.

This farmhouse had a cellar which was dug deep into the clay soil, and kept a steady temperature, the better to store potatoes, carrots, and the like. It had an outside door, one of those slanted things sheathed in tin that children like to try to slide down.

One fall, when Grandpa was stowing that year’s crop of root vegetables, an enterprising woodchuck sneaked in while the door was open. Later, Grandma went down for some vegetables and spotted the woodchuck bumbling around the perimeter of the room. She decided to try to capture it in a bucket and then take it back outside, but the wily woodchuck would have none of that. In an unexpected burst of speed, the woodchuck rocketed across the cellar floor and dove for cover beneath the Furnace.

The Furnace was one of those turn-of-the-century coal-fired behemoths that made more noise than heat. It took up half of the cellar and presided over its domain as a capricious and inefficient dictator.

Grandma, being a woman of intelligence and resourcefulness, used a broom to try to prod the woodchuck out into the open. Nothing doing. The woodchuck was so well sequestered beneath the furnace that he was either inaccessible or else he had gotten cocky and knew there was no reason to dislodge himself other than personal preference.

Grandma gave up for the night, assuming the woodchuck would come out the next day, when the commotion was passed and he got hungry. Then, she’d have another go with the bucket.

The woodchuck did not resurface the next day, nor the day after that. The woodchuck didn’t come back out for a week, then two. Grandma figured that the poor thing had starved and died beneath the furnace and was bracing herself for a powerful stench. The cellar continued to not smell of decaying woodchuck. Grandpa opined that that woodchuck had settled himself in for a damn comfortable hibernation, and Grandma resigned herself to waiting him out.

Sure enough, the next spring, Grandma found the woodchuck, dazed and skinny, trying to excavate a tunnel to freedom in one corner of the cellar. In his post-hibernation torpor, the woodchuck was much easier to capture. Or perhaps he just sensibly realized that he had to be captured to be freed. In any event, the woodchuck was removed from the cellar and they all went along their separate, happy ways.

The. End.

Posted in Family | 2 Comments »

There may be something to that aromatherapy wheeze

Aug 28th, 2010 by Meetzorp

This summer, the thing that has done the best in my garden is the lavender. Most specifically, the lavender in the northwest garden box. So I’ve been drying sprigs of it in the bedroom. I’ve shared out some of my floral bounty with several friends, as well as made myself a couple of little sachets.

I took one to work, to roll up in the towel I used for a pillow in my little lunchtime/naptime hidey-hole. I’m still not sure if this was a brilliant or a terrible idea; I actually do seem to be sleeping better. I only wake up once, about half way through my lunch break, when I check my watch and roll over so my ear doesn’t go numb. I used to wake up about every 10 minutes. However, when my alarm goes off, I’m finding it a whole lot harder to come back to consciousness.

It seems like lavender really does have a soporific effect on me. This may be a total placebo thing, but whatever the cause, it seems to be working.

Anyway, it beats the slightly sewagey smell that storage room usually has (one of the drains for the north side of the building vents just outside the loading dock door, and the stink tends to drift in through the cracks)

Posted in Distractions, Garden, Work/career (vague as to avoid doocing) | No Comments »

New perfume mixture

Aug 26th, 2010 by Meetzorp

5 drops of Rose Otto (in jojoba)
1 drop of Patchouli
scant .35 oz vodka infused with whole cloves (12 in a 1 oz bottle)

I use these tiny perfume bottles that are .35 oz, so whatever liquid I put in besides the oils (usually vodka, either plain or infused) is just under .35 oz, minus a little so there’s room for the atomizer’s tube.

Since my mom doesn’t read my blog (because she’s still an Internet holdout) I can write freely about my most recent project, which was mixing up several different perfume mixes for her birthday. I did my original three, plus the above-mentioned, plus one that consisted of:

just under .35 oz vodka infused with cardamom (6 pods in a 1 oz bottle)
2 drops patchouli oil, 3 drops Jasmine (in jojoba oil).

It sounds really weird, but hear me out…it actually smells pretty suave.

Posted in Art Projects & Making Things, Family | No Comments »

Trash-treasure of the day

Aug 26th, 2010 by Meetzorp

Melissa and I were out riding around the other evening and I am so glad my friends are patient with me.

“Dude, we’ve gotta stop,” I hollered out.

U-turn was pulled, trash was picked.

Someone down in Columbus Park was getting rid of some luggage. Most of it was lackluster and grubby, but not this little gem:

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Dating probably to the late 1960s and in astoundingly pristine condition, this little suitcase (about 18″ tall and 24″ wide, and about 6″ deep) was just too gloriously ugly for me to leave behind. My CamelBack pack has just enough straps and clips that I was able to sling this from my pack and it was small and light enough that I hardly noticed it was back there. And as it turned out, the suitcase was also convenient for toting a container of leftover Vietnamese food back to Melissa’s car. It would have been squashed utterly in one or the other of our backpacks, but in the nice flat suitcase bottom, it rode quite nicely.

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The inside is in nice shape, too. No stains or tears and the leatherette hold-down straps aren’t at all chewed up nor is the lingerie pouch stretched out. I don’t think this case saw much service.

Best of all, it doesn’t smell bad in any way. Not basementy, not atticky, and not like the cat pissed on it. It smells a little plasticky and that’s about it. Understandable and completely acceptable.

Plus, doesn’t it look cute with the little “Searsonite” toiletries case I found last summer?

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Damn near a matched set of luggage.

Posted in Adventures, Dumpster Diving, Photo entries, biking | No Comments »

We can make it!

Aug 25th, 2010 by Meetzorp

Realistically, I am pretty sure I can make my own custom toilet-flush frame for my MA certificate.

There are unnecessarily complicated birthday cards which have a little battery-powered recorder gizzy so you can record your own greeting.

When I could do is disembowel one of those cards, record a toilet flush sound effect on the recorder gizzy using a REAL TOILET and then conceal that on the back of the frame.

The flushing sound effect would be activated by a pull-cord, I think. It would be the most thematically faithful.

And this way, I can just use any old cheap secondhand frame I can find at a thrift shop, providing I can find one that will accommodate A4 paper. Seeing as we don’t deal much in A4 here in the USA, therein lies my challenge.

Posted in Art Projects & Making Things, Distractions, Utter Silliness | No Comments »

With Honors

Aug 25th, 2010 by Meetzorp

So, what I’m really looking for is a battery powered picture frame that will make the sound of a toilet flushing when you push a button or pull a lever. Ideally, it would accommodate an A4 sized sheet of paper.

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Can you believe this thing is for real? Or that I, in actual fact, “earned” it? (and digitally altered my “name” for “giggles”)

The mind, it boggles. Still. Almost a decade later.

What the hell was I thinking? And why was I thinking it, for that matter.

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Posted in Distractions, Super-Short Entries, Utter Silliness, You have got to be kidding me!, dumb things I have done | No Comments »

In which a vile humor serves me well

Aug 24th, 2010 by Meetzorp

I was in a colossally bad mood yesterday after having to work on my day off, plus learning that I didn’t get the promotion I’d applied for (one which would have gotten me off the phone lines and allowed me to wear ear-protectors at work and not have to listen to my co-workers gabbling at the tops of their lungs all day).

Imagine half a dozen grackles, arguing lustily at the top of their leathery little lungs while simultaneously trying to cut a live pig in half with dull hacksaws.

That’s basically the ambient sound of the office in which I have the decidedly mixed fortune to work.

Being as I’m not a person who relishes noisy environments, this has been steadily making me more misanthropic and hatey, and less and less tolerant of excessive noise in other quarters of my life. In general, I’ve lost all patience with annoying people and that brings me to today’s adventure in irritation.

I’ve written before about how my particular locality is just swarming with appalling men who like to sexually harass random (or pretty much ALL) women at large. Today I had the privilege of encountering one of these swine at the library, where I was trying to find some frivolous chick lit or at least some pretty picture books about old train stations or Bowery flophouses. This joker met me at the library door with slurpy smoochy noises. I lowered my not inconsiderable eyebrows and gave him a scrote-withering death glare. It’s one of my specialties.

He scuttled off to the AV room.

I went on about my business of being a print-media hunter-gatherer. Then I made the fatal mistake of going up the the AV library to renew a DVD I had out and maybe pick up another.

The Amazing Kissy-Face Pig was still hanging around the AV room, creeping out all and sundry. I noticed three attractive young black women shooting death glares at him from the CD racks and an older, schoolteacherish white lady looking askance at him from the checkout while he bumbled around in and out of the DVD shelves.

I knew what video I wanted and I knew I was going to have to pass him to get it, so I steeled myself and my Angry Eyebrows and waded in. As expected, he launched another barrage of obscene kissing noises.

In no mood for such foolishness, I told him, aloud, and in no uncertain terms, that I wasn’t in the least interested and that he should take his lips and go fuck off with them.

He was all, “aww, don’ be so cold, I was just appreciatin’” and I was all, “and I don’t appreciate it in the least, so go find someone who does.”

Miraculously, he indeed fucked off. And the girls over by the CD section busted up laughing, complete with whoops and hoots.

Posted in Gratuitous Cussing, Work/career (vague as to avoid doocing), You have got to be kidding me!, grumbles gripes and pointless bitching | 1 Comment »

Well, that was disgusting

Aug 23rd, 2010 by Meetzorp

I’ve been vaguely under the weather this past week. Snotly, wimpy, and excessively sweaty. Not sure if it was just some sort of crazy hay-fever or a very feeble summer cold, but I’m over the worst of the foulness. At least I don’t feel totally wimpy anymore, though I am still in possession of a surplus of snot.

That’s okay, though, because I have totally felt like spitting a lot lately, which is completely disgusting, unsanitary, and socially unacceptable. And I do it anyway, while cycling to and from work. I figure I’m only gobbing in the roadway, so it’s not like someone’s going to walk through it. I also look out so that I don’t accidentally hack a loogie on a passerby or anybody’s car.

It’s a truly loathsome habit, and not one I indulge in frequently, but when I’m really snotly and riding my bike, I can’t exactly whip out a hankie and deal with things in a civilized fashion.

And I’m really, really good at spitting. I go for distance with my loogies. I mean, when you’re hacking up horrible wads of phlegm, you want them to go as far away from you as possible, so you might as well make it a personal challenge. I like to see if I can “ptooi” them across the center line at least.

Look, I don’t have many mad skills, so I have to make the most of the few I’ve got.

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Posted in You have got to be kidding me!, bike commuting, dumb things I have done | No Comments »

My subconscious just had a screaming breakdown

Aug 23rd, 2010 by Meetzorp

Oh lord, did my alarm clock just wake me up from one HELL of a scorched-earth hissyfit.

I was dreaming that I had some sort of big final paper to turn in, the fate of my BA hung in the balance, and a string of catastrophes was preventing me printing it out and handing it in.

Some stoner drove a Ford Festiva through the front of the flophouse I lived in, crashing to the basement and taking out the electricity with him. So I had to move to the public computer lab between the dorms and some drunk fratty wannabe pissed on the computer keyboard, blowing that computer all to shit, so I had to move on. I finally ended up hunkered down in an office above the black-box theater in Memorial Hall. My dream brain created an office which was a cross between the horrifying props closets of both my high school and of the Lords Of Misrule, who keep their costumes and props in an attic in Kings Manor. It was full of papier mache dragon heads, old cat-pee sofas, and badly-made period costume of every stripe. So I get the paper written (it’s about Thomas Hardy, an author I always think I should love, but who leaves me totally cold) and realize I have no way of printing it. So I took the floppy disk and went to the English Department and asked if I could turn that in. But of course I couldn’t; however my advisor allowed me to print it from his office; so long as it got done printing before 3:00 (which was the deadline).

Of course, it didn’t finish printing in time, so I was disallowed from turning it in and therefore my four years put into the BA were to naught.

So, I went on a tirade about how flunking my entire degree would be the best thing that ever happened to me, that doing a degree in English was a shitty choice anyway and would only lead me to frustration and misery, and that I was going to go off and live a fast and scandalous life and do just whatever I chose, even if it destroyed me in the process.

Then I tore off on my green singlespeed (a bike I wouldn’t actually own until about 8 years later) and rode until I met up with a bicycle gang that was like Mad Max, except on bicycles, and we rode around being sweaty and disreputable until we rode up a bridge that was under construction and there was a gap in the span. The Road Warriors leapt their bikes across the gap with a grace that would make Danny McCaskill weep, but since I am decidedly of the non-aerial type of cyclist (also terrified of heights) I found myself stranded atop an enormous overpass, petrified of the dropoff, alone, and in hysterics, because I have hysterics when my fear of heights kicks in.

Then my alarm went off.

It’s very rare that I am happy to hear my alarm clock go off at 6:00 a.m., but I think today is one of the few days that I was truly “saved by the bell.”

Posted in Distractions, You have got to be kidding me! | 1 Comment »

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