Friday, February 22, 2008

labels AND money

Update to post on 2/17 re: charities sending labels to guilt you into sending money. Clearly, I have been bumped to a whole new level. The word was spread that labels alone were not going to cut it. My guilt threshold has been raised. So the full-court press is now on. Yesterday I received another set of labels, accompanied with a real DIME in a little see-through window of the envelope. Yes, they are spending money on me, so I'll spend money on them. VERY tricky. They've changed their tactics. Think about if they saved all those dimes and labels, how much money the charity would have saved. It's like those who collect pennies for 5 years and end up with a few hundred dollars. And they are only looking in couch cushions and gutters. These folks must be dishing out what amounts to thousands of dollars. That's a lot of homeless people to feed or kids to get cancer treatment or priests to hire lawyers.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Let's give a big thank you

Thanks thanks thanks to the folks who direct our airspace...air traffic controllers. This is amazing - each (singular) ATC hold the lives of tens of thousands of people per day in their hands, and get them safely to their destination. Across the country, with over 3 million flyers daily, it's astounding the stressful work done by the entire staff to keep folks safe. This is fascinating stuff - I've nothing but respect for those in this profession.

Have a look:
Flights into and out of Atlanta only (the busiest airport in the world - over 85 million passengers pass through per year).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tFl_u9kIk6c

Country-wide flight paths for 1 day:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7WRisy7dw3o&NR=1

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Why is it called Shepherd's Pie?

Where did the name for this tasty casserole come from? I'm just wondering how the name is tied to the fact that you basically throw all your leftovers in a baking dish and cover it in mashed potatoes and butter, toss it in the over, then scoop and enjoy. Did shepherds of long ago find peas, carrots, ground meat of some sort, corn, and mashed potatoes, and decide it was a novel idea to put it all together and heat up? Or did a person with the last name Shepherd devise the concoction because he needed to clean out his fridge, and the rest is history?

Regardless, I just made a fantastic version after having cleaned out my fridge. Delicious. Recipe as follows: layer sauteed italian-spiced ground turkey, variety of leftover veggies (corn, green beans, peas), throw in random spices, top with leftover mashed potatoes. Bake 350 degrees, 35-45 minutes. A delightful Shepherd's Pie will tantalize your taste buds. Who would have thunk that a combination of old fridge stuff can combine to make something so wonderful?

Warning: I wouldn't recommend doing this with left over chinese food, though...I don't think that's what the shepherds intended...

Time to address some stuff...

I got on a mailing list of mailing labels. You know, where they send you free address labels, hoping you'll make a donation in return? In the past 2 weeks, I think I've received about 8 different packages of labels, all with different pretty little designs on them, I suppose so that depending on the mood I'm in I can pick the appropriate label. The ones with flowers for happy days, the nondescript ones with a black border for when you're having a blah day, an American flag one for a day you are feeling patriotoc, such as 4th of July, Memorial Day, President's Day, etc. Though, don't you find it funny that the postal service doesn't work on those holidays? Thus, why would I be sending letters with an American flag return address label? It would have lost all meaning by the time it went out. Silly charity, definitely no donation for them. Clearly they didn't think hard enough about their "teaser" gift. Yet another thing I lay awake thinking about late at night.

Why a "teaser" gift? Well, you know the story, it happens everywhere. Dangle the carrot in front of whatever animal they say in that silly cliche. Subconsciously you feel obligated if someone gives you a gift, to give something back to them. A few examples: the person who starts that run at the toll gate or at a drive-through Starbucks - you know, where they pay for the person behind them? And it keeps going on & on for awhile - people continue to pay it forward, or backwards, as the case may be, and we see that there actually may be a shred of hope for our fellow human beings. Then there's the jackass who just greedily takes advantage of it and then the whole cycle of niceness stops. That's when you get to the realization that we were sorely deluded, and we actually are all doomed to fire and damnation because of our greedy coffee-drinking and opportunistic toll-paying ways. Another example: the tootsie roll given to you by the boy scout when collecting for money in front of a grocery store. Give a tootsie roll, then the bucket sits there, crying out longingly for your spare change or debit card...striking up pangs of guilt that either quickly go away as you eat the candy, since the pangs really were only hunger pains, or they induce you to drop some dough in the bin. Their 10 cent tootsie got them a $5 donation. Great return on investment (ROI), right? (Note: the folks with the red bucket and bell in front of the grocery store at Christmas are not lumped in with this...you have to donate to get the tootsie roll).

Then we come to the dilemma I'm faced with. Some charity graciously sends you some address labels or a penny in an envelope, a heartfelt plea for monetary assistance, and a return envelope for your donation. After all, they sent you labels, couldn't you spare a few dollars for them? Not that they intend to give you a guilt trip (ok, yes they do), but they try to make the impression that they did send you the labels, and you can't re-gift them, they were made especially for you...and therein lies the feeling that you "owe" something. Clever marketing - it's very effective.

Well, normally this feeling of guilt can be quickly overcome. Free labels, awesome. Trash the rest. Thanks much, I look forward to the next installment. The problem I've gotten myself into, is that I actually donated to one of those places that sends you labels (a cancer research charity). Apparently, though, once you do that to a certain charity that sells the lists of donors, it's like your address is posted on a billboard for all non-profits to see. Once you show you are willing to donate to one place, the sharks begin circling. You get address labels out the rear end because, I personally think, you get listed as that being your "trigger" and everyone wants a piece of the pie (little do they know, it's not a real big pie with me writing checks...). I.e., on the broadcast message they say: "Send her address labels, she's a sucker for them. She'll be opening her checkbook in no time, once it's seen how cute the designs are on these labels."

In the past month, I have more labels than I know what to do with. (Correlates directly with the post-holiday donation-giving). Every other day I get a new set. I could put a label on everything I own, including my wardrobe, dishes, flatware, books, paper clips, and still have about 3,000 labels left over. However, at least if I threw a fork out the window someone would know where to return it to. Anyway - I can see how this tactic would work on a lot of people, but for those folks who see through it, it just causes more crap in my mailbox that gets the ol' heave-ho after snagging the labels. My initial thought is that I need no more labels, so why don't these organizations save the money they used on printing these things, and consider it a donation from me. That works, doesn't it? I suppose I should just call them, and tell them that my donation will be for them not to waste paper or sticky address labels on me. I wonder if that's tax deductable... But then again, maybe labels cost so little that it's a small investment and these charities still get a lot of donations that outweigh the costs of giving labels to those who never donate. Who knows.

There is an upside to this. I do think I have a new way to use these. Before I go out for a few drinks, I'm going to stick one of those to my hand. Should I get a bit too intoxicated and need to get a cab home, all I'll need to do is flash my palm to the driver, then I'm all set. Don't even have to remember my name or address anymore. Great! Remind me to donate again!

It's spastic colon sunday...

Hoops & Yoyo are my new favorite pick-me-up...

Click on this link:
http://www.hallmark.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/CategoryDisplay?catalogId=10051&storeId=10001&categoryId=-102034&CatIDsList=147551%3b-102001%3b11443%3b-102034&tabOn=ecards

And select "Spastic Colon Sunday". Encapsulates everything about a Sunday.


www.hoopsandyoyo.com

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

tasty butterfish, anyone?

Ok folks, we need to make comment on this one - I can't let it go untouched. Please read, then come back & we'll discuss. This falls under "Dining Dangers" on the website Radar Online, and is filed under the keywords "anal leakage," ""dining dangers," and "fish scandal" if that piques your interest at all.


http://www.radaronline.com/features/2008/02/escolar_hawaiian_butterfish_anal_leakage_01.php


So, having read that, are you fully ready to go on the butterfish diet? Seems quite like the Alli pill, where you have to carry extra dark pants, lest you have uncontrollable, unexpected and explosive diarrhea. Khakis are a no-no. (For those of you who aren't aware, the FDA has actually put a black box label on the diet pill Alli, actually warning people to wear dark pants and carry a spare pair of black pants to change into, should an accident happen. Now that's a serious diet pill.)


Ok, so what I love about this article is that they make it sound so delectable, this fish, but just an unfortunate side effect that you shoot yellow oily liquid out your rear end when done. Makes me pucker just to think about it. I suppose this fish must be fantastic to outweigh the fact that your insides may melt and fall out of your undercarriage. There are quotes in the article from folks who can't stop raving about how you'll fall in love with this fish. Apparently the negative reinforcement of the yellow ass fountain ferociously expelling itself from your body doesn't come quite quickly enough to make the association between yummy fish = leaky butt and dirty smelly pants. Best part is that people continue to go back to it! Not sure if it's for the sheer delight in the fishy goodness, or the fact that everyone now & again needs a good old colon blow and a reason to miss work.

So, if you are intrigued and in the market to get some butterfish, I would recommend wearing 2 depends diapers, and bringing 6 or 8 spare ones. Might want to also consider installing a clothes-hanging bar in your backseat to carry an extra wardrobe and an industrial size bucket of Oust air freshener.

Blast from the past: any SNL watchers, few years ago, the "Oops I crapped my pants" skit? Hysterical. Go find it online. Reminds me of this fishy tale.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

No need to be alarmed...

5AM, Thursday last. Phone call received...woke sleeping giant...who promptly silenced the ringer after seeing it was an 866- number. "Who would be telemarketing at this time of day? When I get my hands on that jerk..." Voicemail tone rings..."What telemarketer leaves a message? Guess I'll check it." Sleepily dial into voicemail...still drooling onto pillow...message from ADT security, I am on the list of emergency notifications for my parents' house...the "motion sensor has been triggered and has set the house alarm off, and the police have been dispatched." Awesome. Shooting up and out of bed like a pop-tart that's flown out of a broken toaster and looking like I'd stuck my finger in an electric socket (hair out to HERE - note arms outstretched), I quickly call back the company while pulling on a pair of jeans and swishing with listerine. Told them I'd be over in 20 minutes to meet with the police.

Of course, as luck would have it, the 13 year old dog who sleeps 22 hours a day decides that since i'm moving around, she should probably wake up and get excited for the beautiful morning...ready to eat her breakfast of champions: cheerios and cheese (that is not a joke...she's got low cholesterol, i tell you what.), and that she needs to take a leak and a doozie of a twosie stat. Then, of course, after 10 waking minutes, she'll promptly fall back asleep. Anyway, I poke both fingers into my eyes to put my contacts in, and head out at 5:15 with the dog, who, I forgot to mention, barks at everything, including leaves and curbs. Now imagine this, crazy hair shoved in a ball cap to try and bring it down from the stratosphere, a jacket on like that little kid who was on "A Christmas Story", and a yipping weiner dog that I'm ferociously shooshing so that the neighbors won't wake up... Ok, dog back in, into the car, over to the parents house. There was actually traffic...who knew people were awake at that hour. Probably sleep deprived and grouchy. Bozos.

Arrival at parents house: no police. Form on the door saying they walked around the house, didn't see anything suspicious, and had left. Also, if there happened to be a burgular or murderer in the house, to go ahead and call them back. Very comforting, I must say, as it's still dark out, and the house is nice and spookily dark too. Would have been nice to have a big strong policeman with a revolver and billy club escort me through the house. I'm just saying, is that too much to ask? So, I open the garage door, I can hear the alarm still going off inside the house, even before I unlock it. Now, fearing that a masked assassin or squatter or whoever is inside the house is dancing around in front of the motion sensor in the dark, waiting for an unsuspecting girl still in jammies and bloodshot eyes to come in to search the house, I feel the need to have a weapon, like numchucks, a 12 gauge shotgun, baseball bat, etc., should the remote possibility that I need to beat someone up for entering the premesis in an unauthorized manner. As I peer around for my weapon of choice, I find the only thing that I could remotely swing at someone and inflict no injury whatsoever. An ice scraper. Plastic. Very comforting, my choice of weapon. I begin to think I'll just have to rely on my kung-fu skills. They'll be running scared when I strike my kung fu pose. Don't you wish you knew what that looked like. Me too.

Ok, to the door! Unlock door to house, go to keypad and put in code, siren stops ringing. Walk into kitchen, to foyer (where the motion detector is), through the house, ice scraper poised and ready for an attack...turn all the lights on, look in all the closets, nothing to be found. No rogue squirrels, small children playing hide-and-seek, etc. Back down to the foyer.

Now, let's rewind a few days, to put the scene in perspective. #1. Parents left the day prior; gone on a trip through the Panama Canal on a cruise ship. No phone access, no email. The alarm company is set up to call the emergency numbers as follows: parents' home, dad cell, dad work, mom cell, me. The line of succession doesn't really work well when everyone who could answer a phone is off the continent. #2. Dad turned 66 a few days before they left. Brother brought over mylar balloons. 2 of them. #3. It was warm outside the days leading up to the alarm incident; that night, temps dropped an awful lot. Hence, heat in the house might be needed.

Fast forward, back to present, 5:45 AM Thursday. As I get back to the kitchen/foyer where the motion detector is...still nothing. Then, the heat comes on. All by itself, no problemo. When the register is facing the direction of the balloons, still no problem, provided no motion detector is armed. Interesting chain of events begins to make sense in my head. Balloons near the vent begin to "dance" around in front of the motion detector. I promptly beat them to a "pop" with my ice scraper, all in an attempt to protect the house, of course.

Once the threat is neutralized, onto the next steps. Dispose of any possible "dancing" materials. Re-arm the house. Back home. 6:30 AM.

Can't sleep - a bit wired from the whole "carrying around an ice scraper looking to bust some heads" bit. Rest of day went like this: begin drinking copious amounts of coffee. Take the dog out to bark at some grass. Start work. Drink more coffee. Take breaks to practice kung fu moves while swinging ice scraper over head. Wait to be called back into action for next set of dancing balloons that attack the house.

Potomac Tuesday

Got a phone call today from the 3 year old niece...right after she & her mom went to vote. Did you know that omama-mama and hill-awee were running for the democratic primary? Me neither ;-)

Saturday, February 09, 2008

I guess I didn't want to get up.


Yes, I really did this yesterday morning - I snapped my alarm clock in half when i hit snooze, which I must have done quite vigorously, as I swatted it off the night table into the wall, where it promptly split in half. Oops. Sad thing was, I must not have done it hard enough, because it went off again in 5 minutes. Stupid thing never learns.


Friday, February 08, 2008

I just ate a republican

And man, am I full. One less for the world to deal with ;-)

www.lostdogcafe.com

Tuesday, February 05, 2008

This is how awake I feel...

This is how I feel today, only I'm not allowed to go home and sleep on the couch.



A new career in "manscaping"...

Business Students Study Body Hair for $40,000 P&G Marketing Prize
http://biz.yahoo.com/ap/080205/oh_p_g_young_marketers.html?.v=1

Expect a commentary to follow soon. Until then, trim the bushes and make yourself presentable.