W.I.S.M.I.M. (Part III)

W.I.S.M.I.M. (Part I)
W.I.S.M.I.M. (Part II)

Seriously, lada needs to chill the fuck out.
I was taking a shower the other night, in the dark. (Boy, you know it is going to be a good story when it starts like that.) This isn't normal for me, I normally am a big believer in electricity, but I had been in bed in the dark for a while (mmm. . . post coital showers) and I didn't feel like turning on the lights and burning my eyeballs when there was sufficient moonlight to shower by coming in through the large, uncovered, bathroom window. And luckily I didn't turn on the lights or I might never have noticed the little red light out in the woods behind my house shining into the aforementioned, large, uncovered, bathroom window (where I was currently showering).

Now we all know that a little red light means a video camera, especially out in a huge expanse of untamed wilderness, especially pointing into my bathroom window where I am regularly clothed in jack shit.
AHHHH!

lada: Uh, we need to go outside and investigate that little red light.
Russ: It's late, we aren't going to wander the woods in the middle of the night. We'll go in the morning.
lada: You can't see little red lights in daylight. We have to go now. . . ahhh. . . now!
Russ: Let's go to bed.
lada: Besides, it is much more likely the pervert will be out there in the morning because that is when I typically take a shower rather than now, at 2AM, when we are usually asleep.
Russ: Fine, I'll get a flashlight.

So he grabbed a flashlight, and I grabbed a hammer - not sure why a hammer, but at this point my panic had risen to level orange and I was not thinking clearly. We wander around outside trying to locate the little red light, but aren't having any luck - it was apparently much easier to see from a second story window than at ground level.

Then I see a red light, but I am confused because it is too high, almost like it is on a tower. And I look up even higher and see a second red light at the top of what is definitely a tower. This is when we conclude the light we saw near the ground must be the bottom the same tower. Probably the same cell phone tower that has been behind our house since we moved in that I have seen hundreds of time. In my defense, the lights I usually see on the tower are white and blinking not little and red, but still - damn.
God help me.

Quote of the day - Russ: "How old am I?"

- may The Force be with lada

Good, Bad and Ugly

Sixty must be the new twenty
Bruce Willis - 52 - is making a fourth Die Hard
Sylvester Stallone - 60 - just made the his sixth Rocky and is working on Rambo IV
Harrison Ford - 64 - has agreed to make Indian Jones IV
Now I do love me some Bruce Willis, but damn. . .

The world we live in
Captain Hanadi Zakariya Hindi is the first Saudi female pilot. However, she is still required to have a male drive her to the airport. What else is there to say?

One more piece to the puzzle of my life
I finally figured out the name of the Childlike Empress.
I finally figured out the identity of Mr. Drake.
And now, I know how Stephanie Seymour dies in the November Rain video.

Do you remember this video? Of course you do. The wedding, the most inappropriate church tongue-kiss ever, the reception, the rain - then all of a sudden the funeral. What the hell happened at the rainy reception that led to her demise? And to make me even more curious, at the funeral she has half her face covered by a mirror implying some type of massive head trauma.

The only way to solve this mystery is to read the story that the video was based on - "Without You" by Del James. I decided to read it - but that was in 1992 and I never seemed to get around to actually doing it. . .until now! I was going to buy the book until I saw that used copies of the book are currently selling for $98.85 on Amazon. So, I decided I would take the cheaper route and just google "November Rain story."

She blows her brains out because of her tragic relationship with a dunk, drug-addled rock star. Here it is if you want to read it. Now I can check that off the list. Whew.

If you're ever on Jeopardy: The names of Popeye's four nephews are Pipeye, Pupeye, Peepeye, and Poopeye.

- lada looks into your eyes and can see a love restrained

Written in the Stars (Ursa Major)

KC lost - that stings - but I still have big hopes for the Bears.
A few weeks ago, I opened my fortune cookie to find this:

See - lada in Miami - it is destiny. I have been carrying that fortune around in my wallet ever since. If it is written down, it must be true. During the stress of the Bears in overtime against the Seahawks, I dug it out and rubbed it reverently (sales people are always superstitious). It worked! Robbie Gould is my hero! I decided I needed to share the luck, so I have scanned it and this special, tiny slip of paper has now become digital. I strongly encourage all of you to print a copy of my fortune to carry in your wallets. Rub as needed.
If you can't do that, at least touch your monitor in respect and mumble a prayer to the NFL gods. On your knees.

Quote of the day - Karen: "24 carat GOULD!"

- lada hearts the Monsters of the Midway

Febreze, Pleze

When I travel out of town, I like to leave things in my car at the airport for when I fly back in, like some Mt. Dew in case I need some caffeine for the drive home.

What I don't recommend, is leaving the leftover Long John Silver's you bought on the way to the airport in the car in long term parking for nine days. The dry, moldy smell of the fries and the sickly, sweet odor of the rotting coleslaw, together couldn't overpower the fish - my God, the fish. And let us not forget the sticky mess that was all that was left of the soggy paper cup that just couldn't stand up to the Coke. I am a genius.

Time for that new car.

If you're ever on Jeopardy: Ireland has the highest calorie consumption in the world at 3,837 calories per person per day.

- lada offers an award winning sushi bar

Not So Much Bigger In Texas

I thought I would hate Texas. I heard it was all ten gallon hats and cowboy boots, but it isn't. I am kind of disappointed that Houston looks like every other city. I guess I kind of wanted to hate Texas - oh well. I will just have to continue on with my hating of California (though I have no real reason for that one either). I haven't seen a single Taco Bell though. But I guess that is along the same lines of eating at a Pizza Hut in Chicago - it just isn't done.

They do have a ton of homeless people. A group of us from work were walking downtown after dinner the other night, when a homeless man asked for money. One of the women with us (who told me that she has a degree in psychology and therefore she "knows the correct way to deal with the homeless") turned to the guy and pointed her finger in his face and told him he needed to go sit down - like the guy was a fucking dog! I was mortified. Then the homeless guy (we will call him Al) who was probably pissed, wouldn't leave us alone; he started walking along with us and trying to talk to us. The more everyone ignored him, the worse I felt about us acting like pompous jerks, so I gave Al a five. He blessed me and immediately turned around and left us alone. I had solved the problem of the strange homeless man following us back to our hotel, but everyone still scolded me for giving him money. Apparently generosity is a bad thing. I responded that my life was good and his didn't seem to be, so what was five bucks - they weren't feeling me.

The next night I was walking with MC when another homeless man we passed asked us how we were doing. We both answered, "Good, how are you?" and he stopped and mumbled a thank you for "not acting like [we] have 89 million dollars." We chuckled and told him it was because we DON'T have 89 million dollars. He was serious though and reiterated that it was nice that we had acknowledged him rather than being assholes (my words, not his). Then things went back to normal, he asked if we had anything we could spare - we told him we didn't have any cash on us and everyone went their separate ways.

Moral of the story - homeless people may be all sorts of screwed up, but you can still look them in the eye and see that they are alive.

Quote of the day - Russ: I like the warm, pulsating on my butt.

- lada's in a lone star state of mind

Sweet Home Chicago

The plan was a surprise visit to Chicago for my dad's 50th birthday. I wanted to catch him off guard so he would be really shocked.

He takes the train to and from downtown every day and I wanted to be on the same train from the airport. Now my dad has never been the most observant guy - we would be playing outside as children and would wave our little hearts out as Dad drove by on his way home from work, but he would never notice, never wave back (as a driver, it is always great to ignore the small children playing on the side of the road...). The man lives with blinders on. So I decided to sit by him on the train and see how long it would take for him to notice his own daughter.

I got to Union Station early enough to know that I beat him. Then I (and all my luggage) stood/hid behind this pillar. I waited and watched the stream of people pass by and after a bit he walked right past the pillar, not knowing that I was on the other side. I went into stealth mode and began to trail him while I sent a text messaging to Karen saying, "The target has been identified. I am in pursuit."
(I heart stealth mode.)

I followed him to the train car and ducked as he got on and sat down. I waited a few, gathered my stuff, got on the train, walked right past him and took the seat directly in front of his. He proceeded to not recognize the back of my head. (Later he tries to cover this saying, "Your hair looks different, did you change the color?") Suddenly my phone started ringing loud enough for the whole train to hear - and what did it play you ask - the Norte Dame fight song of course. I quickly silenced the phone, but heard Dad (an ND alum) chuckling behind me. He waited a few seconds, but couldn't help talking to a fellow ND fan on the night of the Sugar Bowl. So he struck up this conversation:

Dad: That's a great song.
I turned around with a big grin on my face
lada: It is isn't it!
The look on his face when he realized it is me - priceless.
Dad: Ah! [lada] what are you doing here?
lada: I came for your birthday!
Dad: What's wrong?
lada: Nothing, I wanted to surprise you for your birthday!
Dad: Is everything okay?
lada: YES, I came for your birthday!
Dad: ...
lada: Everything is fine. I just came to surprise you for your big 50th birthday!
Dad: Shhh - everyone on this train thinks I am much younger than that.

Apparently he assumed that after three years of marriage, Russ had kicked me out of the house and I was moving back in with them. Nice.

Happy Birthday Daddy!

If you are ever on Jeopardy (courtesy of Tim): In the 1970s the island of Nantucket was invited to become a part of the state of Kansas, despite the 1358 miles separating the two locales.

- lada shakes her money maker