I Can't Believe It's Not Cable!

For the past two months, I have been suffering.

Cox is having some kind of problems, so for the past two months I have not been able to access several digital channels, Biography channel included. I know what you're thinking, "Who cares? Biographies are for pansies." My thoughts exactly! But unfortunately, there is a definitely nonbiographical program that airs on Bio, and that is Airline. For lo these many months, I have been unable to view it. (I know, you empathize. It's okay to weep; we all love that show.)

Well, as you know, last week I was housesitting for Amy. Well, Tuesday morning at ten o'clock, I was scanning channels and what should I see? Airline! Turns out the problem is not with Cox, the problem is with me. I have been missing my show all this time for nothing!

So I scheduled to have the cable guy come out between 4 and 7. I had to work today, but I was thinking, "I get off at 5, I'll rush home, and I'm sure I'll be fine. They're always late anyway." Well, you probably know how this story ends. They called at 4:15 and showed up at 4:40. I considered shutting the library down early so I could watch my show next Tuesday, but then I realized that keeping my job is probably more important than keeping my cable. So I continue to do without.

But anyway, speaking of housesitting (I know, we weren't at the moment, but I'm all out of good segues,) I am really ready to live in a house again. Amy's house was in a very cute lil neighborhood, kind of like Murray Hill was a few years ago, lots of bungalows from the olden days. I spent many an evening rockin' away on the porch swing, or just exploring the neighborhood on foot. Being there made me miss having a porch swing, a garden, and curbside recycling. (I'll go ahead and answer your question before you ask it: Yes, it is possible to miss things that you have never had.) I'm still not ready to be a homeowner, but I think I'm ready to live in a house again. Maybe with a (potentially murderous) stranger, maybe with a friend (if I can make one in the next few months! That might cut into my TV time, though...) So I will keep patrolling craigslist, and maybe even say hi to the occasional stranger. Who knows where my next roommate might be lurking!

Holograms Are People, Too!

So two nights ago, I was watching this episode of Voyager where the doctor creates this holosuite program that portrays the crew in an unflattering manner. They are all offended, and at first he doesn't see their point of view, but he finally comes around. He has already transmitted it to his publisher on earth, but he asks the guy to wait while he makes some changes. Then, they discover that the guy is already distributing the program! Janeway angrily calls his to find out why, and he basically says, "This hologram doesn't have any rights, so as an official human, I am taking possession of his program!"

At this point I turned the TV off, because I was so sad. Why shouldn't the doctor have rights to his program, just because he happened to be a program as well? I also wondered why Janeway didn't just claim that she was his co-writer, which would give her the rights to the program. (Maybe she did; I wouldn't know since I turned it off.) Obama and McCain are all tied up in these temporary dilemmas like health care and education, but they really need to be forward thinking and focus on the issues of the future! Who would give copyrights to holograms? That candidate will get my vote.

In other news, I have probably told most of you the tragic story of when I went to Sonic for lunch and forgot my book, so I just stared sadly into space for twenty minutes, wondering what I could possibly do. Well, it almost happened again! Fortunately, I was still at work when I realized that I had left my book at home. (I know what you're thinking: "You were at a library, couldn't you just get another book? The answer is no, I could not, because I was in the middle of my book*, and it was very exciting, and I did not want to read anything else until it was complete.) I checked, and we did not have another copy of the book. So, I was (metaphorically) weeping in agony, trying to decide whether I should take a lunch break at all, when a miracle happened! I went over to the book drop, which appeared to be empty, but it was not. There was one book in it. My book! I began to cheer with glee, ignoring stares from passersby. So I am happy to tell you that I was able to eat lunch yesterday, and also that I got to finish my book! The End.

::applause::


*The book, by the way, was Life As We Knew It, by Susan Beth Pfeffer. I recommend this book for the following person(s):
1. Karli Dale
It's one of those that hooks you right near the beginning, and you can't put it down until you know how the story ends. Murray Hill has a copy that's not checked out. Go get it!

Want Some Silverware to Go With That Pop?

So Toni and I went out to lunch yesterday. I don't know if it was extra busy or if we were just extra special, but for some reason there was neither flatware nor napkins on our table. Well, we didn't realize this until after we were already salivating over our food, at which point we had to choose between eating with our faces liked savages, or waiting in agony while our food cooled. We choose option C, which was eating with our hands, pinkies extended, so it still looked ladylike. Fortunately, our waiter came back, and I thought this was our reprieve. Little did I know, it was only the start of a new type of oppression! Our encounter went down something like this:

Me: Excuse me, could we get some flatware?
Waiter: Some what?
Me: Some flatware.
(Waiter dude walks off, returns with flatware.)
Waiter: Did you call this flatware?
Me: Yes....
Waiter: Why would you call it that?
Me: I'm from Florida. That what we call it there.
Waiter: That's weird. You don't say silverware?
Me: No, silverware is made of silver. It's the fancy stuff you bring out for the guests.
Waiter: Oh, so this is just Chili's, nothing fancy? (He said this in a non-hostile manner, though that is hard to convey with the printed word.)
Me: Well, if you were serving us caviar and lobster, you would probably bring us silverware. Otherwise, we use flatware. (Is it my mission in life to school these hapless Okies?!)

Finally, at this point he relinquished the flatware and let us get on with our meal. Toni gave me an, "I can't take you anywhere," look, but other than that, our meal proceeded without incident. But regarding the other half of the title...

At work, we were taking an informal survey to decide what snacks/beverages to have at an upcoming get-together. One of my coworkers asked if I drank pop, and of course my response, (with an inaudible giggle,)was that I do not. I was about to respond with, "But I do drink soda," reigniting long dormant north-south hostilities, when Tonya chimed in with, "She doesn't drink anything good, only water!" So that has become our tradition; at our next shindig, the host will be serving margaritas, diet soda, and "fine water" for me. Bottoms up!