Blue Uniform Blues

I go back on my diet on Friday, and back to work on Monday. Still, as you can see here, it's going to be tough to get into my uniform.

Bluetooth Bites

I went for another short ride yesterday with my trailer. It was colder so I wore a few layers of clothes, even under my helmet. It was a tight fit. Every time I swallowed, I called Sarah's cell phone. After a few times, I realized it was because my chin moved when I swallowed pulling the helmet strap against the headset, so if I quickly opened my mouth after it dialed, I could hang back up again. If riding at 0º wasn't enough, gasping like a fish while doing it, might have made me look crazy.

Duty Blog

I've been just sitting around eating, which doesn't make for very interesting blogging. It also doesn't do anything for my self image, or, especially, my mirror image. I waddled in front of a mirror and it took so long it was like watching a train go by.
I did go for a bike ride tonight with my new trailer....
I had to take a break from typing to go have some pulled pork, which sounds vaguely obscene, but really was more about deadly sin number two, gluttony.
Anyway, the ride was nice. I only went as far as Home Depot. A little comedy of errors in the store, so it took longer than I expected. I said something about hoping my bike wasn't stolen and the clerk said it didn't seem likely anyone would steal a bike in this weather. The weather takes a (frost) bite out of crime.

You Can't Keep a Good (Snow) Man Down

Civil Servants Run Amok

I don't want to be a told-you-so, but I'm afraid that if I don't remind you, you won't remember that you heard it here first.
The city of Anchorage has stopped accepting glass for recycling, saying there's no market for it. So, why are we continuing to force city residents into mandatory recycling?
If you were a lemming parent do you think you'd even bother to ask your kids if they'd jump off a cliff just because their friends did it?
What's really roiling the talk radio septic tank is news that the city has banned Snowzilla. Opinions are split between those that think this the first step down a civil rights/free speech/artistic freedom slippery slope, (ha ha, a little snow joke) and those that wish that the city would make him clean up his junk in the summer, too.

Let It Stop, Let It Stop, Let it Stop

We went to a wedding reception on Saturday. In the best man's toast, he said that he and the groom had worked together one summer. They were really funny, but they were the only ones who noticed. I got it, hard.

Sarah's in Seattle. She didn't mean to be, it's just that's where she was was when the weather canceled all the flights in the northwest. It gives us an extra two days to talk about cleaning the house before she comes home.

And To All A Good Night.

Those scientists at Stonehenge and Mt Palomar can paint themselves blue and shake their fists, but for all practical purposes, the winter solstice comes today, for me at least.
After I get off work this afternoon, I'm on vacation until the 5th of January, and I don't plan on even going outside until then, unless there's a prospect of food. For that matter, it's Christmas Eve, too, since I won't be delivering any more Christmas presents this year.

It's Not Just Sarah And ME

Ha, according to Grammar Girl's podcast today, misuse of "myself" is one of the top grammar peeves of 2008 according to her online poll. Another one; we don't like to be called pedantic for preferring correct usage.

The Only Clout I Have Is A Breechclout

I drove to work today. On the way, I stopped for gas and while it was pumping, some homeless guys came over and asked for a ride. I think that's what they said, they were pointing and talking, although it sounded like they said something about the moon. I told them I wasn't going that far, just up the block to the post office. They said okay, and I went to work.

When I got out of the car there, I realized why I looked like part of their tribe, my sweater was hanging out of my coat and down between my legs. Maybe my dishevelment had something to with this; last night, Karen said my coat was in her way, so she crawled over the cart that was in her way and moved my coat "just three feet away" under the kitchen table where the dog slept on it all night. Why she did that is a long story. Thirty three years "on our way to forever together."

Once Again, We're Part Of The Problem

I read today about a man that lost control of his car. His 10 year old son was killed when they slid into the path of a semi carrying Christmas trees. How many more people, and trees, must die before we end this madness?

Alaskan Deaths By Natural Disaster Are Off The Chart

It kind of hurts my feelings:

Apparently My Blank Stare Was the Tip Off

I talked to some of the carolers at church on Sunday. They noticed I didn't seem too enthused about having a bunch of people in front of my house wishing me a merry Christmas. I explained about the PICC line and the garbage buffet, and they seemed mollified, but I'm taking this opportunity to tell you right now, I don't have any, and will not have any, figgy pudding.

Hmm, I Found a Perfect Link to a Course About Zombies to Use in This Post, But Somehow, I Never Even Got Around to Mentioning Zombies

Last night after work I had to pick up three prescriptions from Fred Meyer's for Karen. Even though it was three separate prescriptions, I managed to get them all with only two separate trips. Today we took Karen to the infusion pharmacy to get her medicine changed. My father used to say that before you can do something, you have to do something else. Before we could get the medicine, the nurse said we had to go to the emergency room and have the PICC line changed because it had pulled out too far. We went to the emergency room where they interrogated us about what would make us even think we could get a PICC line at the ER.We should have been at the out patient infusion place. The in patient IV team lady put a peripheral line into Karen's hand. I called the pharmacy to tell them we were on the way back to get the medicine, but the nurse there said that was not acceptable. Then a lot of other stuff happened, culminating in Karen getting a PICC line installed and her medicine changed at about 7:30 this evening. Then home, to clean up the garbage buffet the dogs had spread out in the living room. Okay, Karen cleaned that up, but the whole time she was doing it, she was explaining that she wouldn't have had to do it if I'd been a better father. Which reminds me, I told Karen, who was getting a little cranky at the hospital, "Look, we saved your life, and brought you home, don't make us regret it." The IV nurse said, "That's good, you need to keep your sense of humor."
"Okay, think of that as a joke," I told her.
As the day wore on and on, I felt more and more like one of those unhappy people in a TV Christmas special who just needs that one thing to remind them that life is special because of the special people in their lives and about the true meaning of Christmas. So, you'd think when a bunch of carolers from our church down the street rang our doorbell and started singing to us that that would do it. That's what you'd think, but of course, you've never been the morose guy in the special.

Snail Mail

Outside's the rain, the driving snow
I can hear the wild wind blowing
Turn out the light
Bolt the door
I ain't going out there no more
-From Cover Me-Bruce Springsteen

Yesterday was icy, but the walking wasn't too bad because I have little spiky things, called spikies, on my boots. Today it started to snow, but the snow wasn't anchored to the ice and the walking was terrible. Each swing took about twice as long as the one before it and I wasn't sure if I'd ever finish. I felt like Zeno's mailman.

Really Dead Letter

One of Sarah's friends, wait, based on how many times he's sent me National Friendship Week Announcements, and by the way, when isn't it National Friendship Week...
Let me start over, I know a guy, and he was telling me that Boston is such a confusing place to drive, that someday he expects to drive into a cul-de-sac that's one way. I was worried about a similar problem when I had a certified letter addressed to Mrs. X, decd. Luckily it wasn't restricted delivery.

Fair Enough

As I understand it (based on a dim memory of some sixth grade memorization, and a quick glance at Wikipedia) the sixth and fourteenth amendments to the constitution guarantee Americans a fair trial. But one of our local serial killers already had a fair trial, and it turned out really badly. Even though he was showing off the body of his victim, the jury believed his story, "She was already dead when I found her and started bragging about killing her."
Now his attorney wants to throw out evidence in his latest trial for torturing and killing a different woman. I don't think so. We did that once, and look what happened.

Do You Really Want Seconds on That Salad?

I was off yesterday so we went to see the visiting nurse (instead of her coming here which Blue Cross is getting tired of paying for). She called Karen her miracle patient since when she first met Karen she was barely conscious, but yesterday she was able to walk and talk all on her own.

The carrier that takes my place had to cover two other routes as well, so he was out until after eight last night. About fifteen years ago, I had a piece published in the Anchorage Daily News about delivering mail in Alaska. I said that it's a poor business plan to schedule your heaviest workload when there's no light and it's bitterly cold. I'm pretty sure it was only published because I had taken a class from a friend of the editor. The class was on writing for publication. Like I said, it was a long time ago, before blogs. Then, you had to bow to the tyranny of editors who wanted stuff to be interesting. It was so long ago that dial-up referred to those phones that had a dial that you had to spin, instead of buttons to push. We were still, as an alien in the book, Chocky, said, in the thrall of the wheel. The writer, John Whyndam was pretty prescient. His most famous book is about talking plants with poisonous whips that almost take over the world after everyone goes blind, so I would advise treating your flowers with a little more respect. You'll want them to like you when the verdant uprising occurs. Back then (when I wrote my article, at the top of this paragraph ) there wasn't much of an internet, at all. We had a 300 baud Modulator-Demodulator so we could communicate with the library very slowly. We could have probably communicated more quickly by just going there, but we wouldn't have been nearly as cool.

I wrote once about the creation of the universe and how scientific speculation didn't seem any more plausible than the idea of turtles holding up the earth. I mean, where would Atlas stand? As of this morning, when I weighed myself, he seemed to be standing with me on the scale.

Zen Dentistry, One Hand Claps, The Bridge is Nowhere

Karen made an appointment to have her bridge replaced, but here in this magic realism house, the bridge is missing.

It's A Small World After All; A Small Creepy World

Leah has begun to look for an apartment. Yesterday I found a house on craigslist in a great neighborhood for an unbelievable price. So unbelievable in fact that when we sent an e-mail, the response came from a "missionary" in "West Africa" and said all we had to do was call him so we could send him some money and he'd send us the keys.
What's weird and creepy, like one of those scary campfire stories, Leah's been getting phone calls late at night from the same number.