Floss religiously

Yosemite

(Part 3 of 3)

Yosemite was pretty cool. I tried to pronounce it "YOSE-MITE" with a nice southern twang any time we were around people. Amber usually turned red from the experience. Whether she was embarrassed or angry, I couldn't say.

We had some bagels and soup-can hot chocolate before heading off to the giant Sequoias at Mariposa Grove.

Then we were off to Glacier Point for a nice overview of the valley. The tiny specs on the top, left of half dome are people. Whoa nelly.

Next we drove to the valley floor and examined waterfalls n' stuff.

We oohed and ahhed over El Capitan, and after some searching, we found some goobers crazy enough to climb that thing. Look closely, they're nearly to the top.

Ok... look a little closer
How easy do I have to make this for you?
The we went hiking to another waterfall. I can't remember the name. Maybe Amber will edit this and correct me. Vernal Falls

The setting sun makes for some really cool effects. The bright granite face of half-dome is brightly lit in contrast to the shady valley floor
And we drove back to our campsite.

And then we went home. Until the next adventure...

 

You know what he did?

You probably remember this commercial from a few years ago. And... although this likely won't pass the Mimi test. It made me laugh uncontrollably for a little while. I hope you have a good chuckle too.

 

San Fransisco

Friday

We got started on our big day in the big city around 9am. We looked up some google directions to the visitor's center in downtown San Francisco. It was on Market street. Despite what I'm sure were perfectly fine directions, we didn't ever find the visitor center, and instead wandered around some of the hilly streets.

Not really knowing what we were doing, whenever we saw other people standing around taking pictures, we went ahead and took pictures too. At one point, we found ourselves on some narrow, winding, steep brick road. Since other people were taking pictures, I took a few as well. I think it was called Lombard St or something. As it turns out, it's famous. (I ripped the first picture off wikipedia. The second is mine.)

Then we went to the Golden Gate Bridge. It was... well, it was a bridge that somebody painted red. We parked somewhere to the north and walked across. About half-way across, I told Amber that I thought I wanted 3 or 4 kids in a year or two...... And she threatened to jump. Then I decided on getting a dog instead, and she decided not to call whoever talks to you on the other end of the crisis phones.

The bridge didn't strike me as something particularly special in itself, a surprisingly short span, and remarkably flat for a bridge so storied--the Ravenel bridge in Charleston is certainly more of a challenge to traverse on foot. But the view is something to talk about, and it's quite high above the water below.

From there, we paid the $5 toll to re-enter San Francisco and we went to Fisherman's Wharf, but the parking was horrendous, and we had visions of El Capitan dancing in our heads. So we elected to leave the city and make our way towards the main event: Yosemite National Park.

Traffic was horrible. The radio traffic people routinely used terms like "The Tracy Parking Lot" to describe the less than speedy congestion that appeared to be accepted as normal. Places like that help me understand why anti-lock brakes are essential on modern vehicles. Our 4 hour trip turned into a 6 hour trip, but it gave us plenty of time to soak in the scenery. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like that part of Cali had a lot to show. Mostly just dead grass. Another hill, another curve, and another field of dead grass. My impressions of California are now that they basically build cities in the middle of desert, then harp about the necessity of conservation. No wonder they look like tree-hugging hippies to the rest of the US--conservation is a matter of necessity when you build large cities in the desert.

A few undesirable turns and a supply stop at Walmart lengthened our journey, but we finally found the twisties of the mountain roads.

9pm
At last, we arrived at the park and set up camp, warmed some canned soup for dinner, burrowed into our sleeping bags. Lows were in the 30s the first night, and I thought I was going to freeze, despite a sleeping bag and a jacket.

 

For the record...

#756. I voted to brand it with an asterisk. You can vote too.

 

A very UnMurphy Murphy vacation

Part 1 of 3

We got back late last night from our much anticipated, long awaited trip to the left coast. I wanted to tell you about our little vacation, partly to brag and partly to share.

Before pressing further, I'd like to thank Wendy's for a great promo and Airtran for coming to Charleston, SC to make our little weekend escapade possible.

Thursday.
5:30 pm We left home for the Charleston airport Thursday evening after work/school. Unfortunately, 526 turned into a parking type parkway instead of a driving type parkway and we were a little late for our flight.

7:30pm. But the same weather that hindered our drive also delayed our flight, and we had time to spare for an airport dinner.

Now, being a Murphy and especially susceptible to the laws that are attributed to Murphy, you might expect that our late flight out of Charleston turned into a late flight arriving in Atlanta. It did. But in a very UnMurphy kind of fashion, our Atlanta departure flight was also delayed and we had a few minutes to spare.

10pm. Now we were worried that the rental car place in SanFran might close before we arrived, and the hotel might overbook. I say we, but I mean Amber. She called both to confirm that our reservations were still intact, and they were.

And thanks to all the delays and the fact that our ATL-SFO flight was a late nighter, there was plenty of room for the 4 hour flight. Amber and I each took our own row, and in a very UnMurphy kind of fashion, slept pretty much the whole way there. Murphy's Law. hmmpff. What law?

Friday
Due to all the delays from that nasty little tropical storm, our 1am arrival in San Francisco turned into a 2:30am arrival. By my eastern time, that's way past my bed time, so we moseyed on over to the Hertz counter to find that nobody was present. After some searching, we found a pair of Hertz employees lounging in their break room. We coaxed them into giving us the car we had already paid for, and we drove off for the Hotel, 3 miles away.

At 3:30am other coast time, we pulled into the Travelodge only to find that, despite our advance booking, and despite our previous call to make sure we had a bed, there was no room at the inn. But just when Murphy's law of Vacations appeared ready to take hold, the night manager sent us to the Holiday Inn across the street with a letter that must have read something like, "We screwed up. Give them a bed and charge it to us." And so we had a room from Holiday Inn instead of a room from the critically disclaimed Travelodge.

 

Table Rock and get-togethers on Labor Day

Two years ago, I took my new girlfriend to Table Rock State Park for some old-fashioned camping and hiking. We tried climbing Table Rock mountain and got a mid-afternoon start. After reaching the summit, we turned around and made a quick descent. Unfortunately, we didn't make it to the huge mass of granite on the front of the mountain that offers the best view. We weren't as fast as I anticipated, the mountain was taller than I remembered, and since the sun moved a little faster than I wanted, we ended up coming down the mountain in darker and darker conditions. Then and now... (the dark one would be the one from 2 years ago)

Eventually, darker turned into just plain dark. We had no flashlight so I took a picture of my white undershirt with her camera, and we used the white light from the playback screen to guide our steps down the last few hundred yards of mountain trail. I felt foolish for pushing her up the mountain, and a little more foolish for trying to go up so late.

I went back to the mountain again this past weekend. Except, this time, I conned my new wife and in-laws into coming too.

We started climbing much earlier this year. I was determined to reach the huge granite face this time, dragging my poor bride as I went. But along the way, we stopped at the same spot where we took a picture two years ago and took a few pictures. But this time, the sun wasn't setting.

The mountain was a little steeper and even longer than either of the in-laws signed up for, and they spent some time at the CCC shelter about half way up. And that's pretty much how I think I've been banned from planning activities for our get-togethers.

You see, last time I organized a camping trip with the in-laws, things didn't quite go as planned either. That was this past Easter when we went camping at Hunting Island in windy 30 degree weather. I still got sunburned somehow. This time I think I nearly drove them to heart attacks. The in-laws are probably beginning to think that my ideas are something straight out of a book on Chinese torture tactics. First, freeze them. Then work them so hard they can't feel their fingers. Who knows what's next. Oh yes, I know. Mental games.

So I talked everyone into posing for pictures in front of the Giant Cow at Aunt Sue's Restaurant.

Not a bad day for the world's worst son-in-law, where every adventure is a disaster waiting to happen.

 

Ole' Mike Vick

I love to watch Mike Vick play some football, but it looks like it could be a solid year before he sees grass with a stadium surrounding it rather than a field enclosed in barbed wire.

What a dummy.

In the meantime, there's always the Michael Vick Chew Toy.

 

License plate

According to the P&C and the SCDMV, South Carolina has a new license plate, and I'm not at all a fan. I voted, but not for this one. I think it's rather hideous and just plain unoriginal. I knew I've seen something just like it before. But where?

Oh yes. Now I remember. That's a second-rate knockoff of a discontinued Michigan license plate.




One must also wonder, why should every driver in the state be relegated to running around with free, legally mandated tourism advertising. That smells like a fishy nod to the coastal half of the state.

Here's a big BOO to whoever voted for this hideous thing to be attached to the back of my car and an ever booier BOO to the goober who came up with that web address.

 

So much

So much can happen when you wait a month or so between blogs. Maybe I haven't written because Amber's kept me busy with a to-do list longer than a Staples rebate receipt. Or maybe I just haven't felt like it. So here's the quick update:

Our apartment is finally in order. After plenty of arguments, including one or two over where to store envelopes, we've finally made our peace, signed a few treaties, and settled in.

We went to the Hwy 21 Drive-in near Beaufort and watched some movie with people pretending to be gay. But they weren't, and it wasn't that good anyways. While we were in the area, we stopped by the Old Sheldon Church for a gander and a picture. We did a little random sightseeing as well.

Amber and I have booked our first big trip: We're going to San Francisco for a weekend in September courtesy of AirTran and Wendy's. Not a bad deal. I'm so glad AirTran came to Charleston. (Dear AirTran, please stay around for at least 2 more years.)

I filled my first tooth a few weeks ago. It was a 90. I've heard that 100's don't exist. 95's are reserved for when the attending remarks, "that's better than I could have done."




I also played in the Charleston summer ultimate frisbee tournament in who knows how hot kind of weather. Unfortunately we have no pictures of the damage it caused me or the damage I caused. Amber says I was "out of it." DK and Morgan did too. Let's say that my record for not spewing has ended at ten years. All I know is that I was uncoordinated and a little slow in the head. As a write, Amber has corrected me to call it "slightly delusional." I've learned my lesson about running around in 100 degree weather. Or 98 degree weather, or whatever it was. Details are somewhat fuzzy now.

 

How to impress your new bride

I wanted to put together a how-to guide on how to impress your new bride. I figure there's somebody out there who could stand on the shoulders of my experience.

1. Book a beautiful cabin retreat in the mountains for your honeymoon. Hot tub? Check. Clean and spotless. Bed? Check. It's a king. Jacuzzi? Check. Chain saw alarm clock? Check. Wait.... chain saw alarm clock? Yup--one of those too. Note the happy bride in front of the washing machine.Everything was perfect until 7 Monday morning, when 15 construction workers began work a few feet away to continue construction on the adjacent cabin. Tuesday was no better. The tree cutters arrived promptly at 7 to do their work. Somebody needs to let their boss know that they were, indeed, on time for work. We heard, "saw, saw, saw....... crack...... thud." "saw, saw, saw....... crack...... thud." "saw, saw, saw....... crack...... thud." "saw, saw, saw....... crack..... scratch...... thud." I felt that last one. "Did that just hit the roof?" Says one lumberjack to another.

The details are a little hazy now, but I think that both a branch or two and my blood pressure were hitting the roof.

How to recover: After an engaging conversation with the booking agent, we packed our bags after lunch and headed to downtown Greenville for dinner and a stay at the Hyatt.

2. Make sure she comes home to a spotless new home. OK, so we're not even close on that one. I'm hoping we can catch up to the apartment by the end of the month.

How to recover: Baby, I'm calling Papa John's.
2b. Allow her to nest. You can't take your stuff to heaven when you die. You can't take it to your new apartment when you get married either. While moving her stuff in, make sure it's placed in neat piles in special places throughout the apartment. Leave for a while while she's nesting. Return several hours later to find a happy bride with all of her stuff tucked neatly into it's places. Notice that there is now only one pile in the living room. It's the trash pile, and all of your stuff will be in it.

How to recover: Keep your mouth shut while you take your possessions to the dumpster.


3. Impress her with your handyman skills. I spent the better part of the morning changing the new-to-me dryer plug from a 3 wire plug to a 4 wire plug. This should be a simple, 15 minute chore to complete before the next thing on my growing "do this or die" list. I went to Walmart to find a dryer cord, only to find that Lowe's would be a better choice. I returned an hour and half later with all the tools to do the job.

1. Eat breakfast.
2. Turn off the breaker to the dryer (30amp).
   
3. Take off the faceplate. Check.
4. Take off the old 3 wire cord. Check.
5. Put on the new cord. um...
   
6. Don't drop any nuts into the dryer. oops.
   How to recover if you drop a nut:
   
1. Shake the dryer and try to listen for the nut. This doesn't accomplish much, but it makes you feel better because you get the pick the stupid thing up and vent a little.
   
2. take off the top of the dryer.
   
3. take off the front of the dryer
4. Vacuum out all the escaped lint stuff
5. Stop vacuuming dummy! You might suck up the nut that you're looking for.
6. Feel around unit. Wish you had vacuumed up all that crazy lint.
7. Find nut and get it back. Set it somewhere special and safe.
8. Finish that vacuuming for no good reason.
9. Play with the dryer guts. Watch the blower spin really fast when you turn the tub over. Act like you know what you're doing if your new bride walks in to see your hideous mess.
   
10. Put front panel back on. Screw in securely.
    
11. Put top back on. Screw in securely.
12. Use previously recovered nut to secure the last dryer cord wire.
    What to do if you forgot where your "special and safe" spot was:
    
1. clean up tools.
2. search laundry room
3. search kitchen floor
4. check inside dryer
5. realize it was on the kitchen floor all along. Why did I ever think the kitchen floor was a "special and safe" place to put a nut?
13. Repeat step 4
    
14. Replace faceplate.
7. Oh yeah... plug in new cord.
8. Try out the dryer
9. Realize that it doesn't work
10. Eat lunch.
11. Remember to turn on the breaker
12. Watch her flip the breaker

4. Give her your undivided attention whenever she asks for it. Only rest after completing your tasks. And most importantly, never let her work alone or do your laundry while you're sitting around goofing off.

Um.. gotta go. I just got caught.

 

Amnesty

Generally, I make a special effort to ensure that this blog is entirely devoid of anything meaningful. I occasionally dabble with something that I believe is important, but my little piece of the web is mostly a hangout for a few friends and family and some very random googlers to see a little way into a little piece of my life.

Most importantly, I usually try to avoid writing about anything political. It's not that I don't think that my opinion on political matters is better than yours--It is. But I'd generally rather not waste my time or yours, because you probably wouldn't change your mind for the better anyhow.

I think I'll break all those rules today.

The promise of joining a group can motivate us to work harder, achieve more, and creates a small sense of fraternity. This won't get a lot of support from my people in Southwest Texas, but they're allowed to be wrong every once in a while.

By the time I pack my bags to leave Charleston, I'll have spent four and half years and enough money to buy a comfortable house in order to join a fraternity of professionals. I want to be a part, and I want the benefits that come with joining such a group.

Immigrants who have come to this piece of America (legally or not) hope to join a fraternity of American success.

Specifically, I want to argue in favor of amnesty for the illegals who came and established good and honest lives in this nation. I strongly believe that any good answer to the question of how to deal with illegal immigrants living in the US requires an opportunity for all peaceful, hard-working aliens to earn their citizenship. That's right. Redemption.

Yes, they cheated the law when they overstayed their visas or swam across a river at night, but I think that every one should have the chance to earn citizenship--without returning to their country of origin. Their diligence, and their perseverance is a testament of model citizenship. Sure, feel free to deport those who are lazy, abusive, or drunkards. But America is honored by the presence of so those who come and behave honorably. They are an asset, a positive attribute, and they are integral to this nation.

How long can you prosecute a past sin? I cheated once in high school, but does that mean that I should be stripped of my bachelor's degree? At some point we must forgive the trespass of long ago in light of the accomplishment of more recent times. It's always easy to forgive somebody unless there's reason he needs forgiveness.

I believe that it is appropriate for the US to welcome talented and accomplished individuals into the fold. I also believe that it's appropriate to welcome the hard working who have made this nation their home.

Fareed Zakaria wrote an article in Newsweek in 2006 discussing immigration (To Become an American, April 2006), and I think he hit the nail on the head. The further we push immigrants from mainstream society, the more likely we are to see a backlash. Push far enough, and it could turn violent. For years, Europe marginalized their immigrants at every opportunity, and they created an angry, downtrodden segment of their population as a result. Why on Earth would we be so foolish as to emulate such a proven loser?

 

Boards

National boards. They're finally done, and I'm very happy with my performance-- I took the whole test.

For the first time in two years, I legitimately feel like I can relax on the weekends. I sat down and read part of a book today. ... because I wanted to.

 

whoa nelly, that's some wind

Some little squall came up out of the tropics and gave us a good pounding last night. As with every storm that's hit us lately, I was a little worried about the boat--and for good reason. The winds were coming from the north all night. Winds out of the north leave all the boats relatively unprotected.

I got a call from my friend, Will this afternoon. "Josh, I think I see your boat in a marsh. If you need a tug, we can get my boat and pull it out tomorrow."

"Not again," I thought as I found my keys and walked out the door.

Amber came too, and we drove down to survey the damage. On the way there, we saw Palms broken in half and tree limbs littered the road. Surveying from the James Island connector, we saw several boats washed up high on the southern shore, but mine wasn't one of them. There were big boats and small boats alike pushed up into the grass and trees. But my prodigal boat stayed true: it was bobbing in the current just like it should. We turned around to get another look at the damage. There was a boat that looked just like mine, and it was sitting way out in the marsh. That must have been some tide last night. I hope they've got a good shovel.

Pictures to come later.

 

google me

I find it fascinating to learn how people wander into my blog. As it turns out, my blog is the top google search return for the phrase: "crying bridesmaid"

I'll add that to the resume.

 

Hey Mom, look at that cool...

I drove the motorcycle to Chic-Fil-A today for lunch. There's nothing like a little peanut oil and waffle fries to clog up the heart pipes.

As usual, the place was full of young mothers and their preschool children. The indoor play area looked like a demented (and crowded) zoo exhibit. The kids were everywhere doing whatever kids in demented zoo exhibits do.

As I finished with lunch, I saw a Rolls Royce pull up next to my motorcycle. I looked it up and down, side to side, while trying not to obviously gawk.

It was time to go, so I threw my stuff away and made for the bike.

A kid--he couldn't have been much over 4-- and his mom was standing on the sidewalk staring at the parked vehicles. I thought, "that's a cool Rolls, isn't it?"

But the kid says, "look at the cool motorcycle."

Dumbfounded, I said hello. My cheap, little engine, bottom of the line, almost get laughed at by dudes on Harleys motorcycle looked like the coolest thing in the world to that kid (and his mom encouraged it). Nevermind that goofy looking $100,000+ car one parked one spot farther.

Well, I did buy a new back tire the other day, and it is pretty cool I guess. I just didn't know it was that cool.

 

Wufoo

I found a cool tool that's free to use, and I wanted to share it. Wufoo.com makes online forms. Amber and I are using it for the RSVP part of the website. I don't know what you'd want to use if for, but I think it deserves some props.

 

A Little People

Normally, I would probably elaborate on the smoke from the inland wildfires that has blanketed Charleston. Or maybe I would poke fun at the way Dr. B says "hypothalamus with his heavy French accent" but I haven't the heart.

It's rare that I watch something on a television screen and dream of being a part of what I see. I don't see how anybody can watch Top Gun without imagining that they were the ones catapulting off the deck of an aircraft carrier.

But today I watched this video-- so compelling that I actually felt sick to my stomach and had a burning desire to be a part of the action--as a shield.

Most disconcerting of all is not that there were 8 or 9 men ready to stone her, but that there was none good enough to save her.

Iraq is a nation of little people. Is there anything there worth the lives of our brothers? Iraq hasn't changed since WWI (the setting of Lawrence of Arabia). They fight between themselves. They kill their children. They cannot be saved from themselves.

"...so long will they be a little people, a silly people - greedy, barbarous, and cruel, as you are." -T.E. Lawrence, in the film Lawrence of Arabia

And "little people" they will remain.

 

Wedding Vows

Amber and I have been working on our wedding vows off and on for the past few days. To be honest, I've never really paid attention to wedding vows in the past. I suppose there are several reasons.

Usually, it's during the vows that bridesmaids ruin their makeup with reminiscent tears and picture-ruining sniffles. I've always found this fascinating, and it's certainly more interesting than listening to some folks jabber about love and some other boring stuff.

Vows are also the part of a wedding ceremony where I become intrigued by the decorations. My mind wanders. "Is that candle behind the crying bridesmaid crooked?" and "I wonder if there will be those wierd powered sugar coated wedding cookies at reception.." an on and on.

It's even more difficult to find entertainment when you are part of the wedding party. There's not really a lot of freedom to look around so options for entertainment become more limited. I've tried to count sweat droplets on the preacher's head once or twice. "26? Is he nervous, or is he just hot? I'm hot. Does talking really make you sweat that much? Surely holding a bible and talking isn't that much work, is it? Maybe the preacherman is out of shape." My mind continues to wander, "Is that bug over there going to make it into the pictures?" "What about the sweat droplets?" Outdoor weddings are even more interesting: "I hope those geese don't get any closer."

But as much as I ignore those vows in other weddings, I see vows as the most serious part of my upcoming event.

Now, I generally try not to promise very much. You know, make little goals that are easy to accomplish. Weddings, by their nature, work exactly the opposite to my usual ways. We promise a lot in the beginning and try hard not to dissapoint.

And these wedding vows involve big promises. You know, things about my whole life, and love, and sacrifice n' stuff. I don't really like sacrifice. Neither does she, for that matter.

We started writing our vows a few days ago, and decided to avoid traditional vows, but we also wanted to avoid surprises. For instance, what if she decided to make bigger and better promises than me? That could cause a problem... at least that's what she said.

So we worked on them together, and the negotiations began.

J:"So what do you think of this?"
A:"No way, I'm not doing the dishes every night"
"Yeah, I don't think dishes should be in wedding vows anyways."
"If I'm promising to never leave you, there had better be something about you never looking at another woman again"
"Who says I do?"
"Are you kidding me?"
"Alright, then you're gonna have to cook."
"I'm not cooking every night."
"Of course not, we'll go out every now and then."
:angry stare:
"Ok, then I'll help with the cooking twice a week, and I'll throw in taking out the trash four out of five times."
"What does this have to do with never leaving me?"
"I dunno... why am I promising to lay down my life? That doesn't include laundry, does it?"
"Because, that's what you're supposed to do. And yes it does."
"So does that mean you're going to submit?"
"As long as you're doing what God says."
"Who gets to be the judge of that?"
"OK, I"ll submit"
"I get to be the boss"
"That's not what that's supposed to mean."

I guess "romance" isn't really my thing.

 

website

Amber's mom and friend came down last weekend to go dress shopping. She found one pretty quickly. I'm glad. Three solid weeks of exams have ended. I'm thrilled.

Invitations have been sent. Our website is up. We're curious to see how the online RSVP stuff works out. We sent out invitations earlier this week, and the responses have been trickling in. I was concerned that the older folks would boycott an online RSVP, but it's been a pretty even split so far.

Next up... writing vows.

 

Quality entertainment

It's pretty easy to tell when a Murphy has had a good day. He'll brag about the great deal he got on... well, most anything. My brothers have written (blogged) extensively on their triumphs over the man. They get free playstations, ski trips, and airmiles.

I also collected on the airmiles and a ski trip or two, but it was at the urging of my superiorly cheap brothers.

But today, I stake my claim as the best and most successful of the Murphy-cheaps. I've discovered a new way to rent movies... cheap.

The Bi-Lo in Town Center, Mt Pleasant has a movie vending machine, and for $1.49, Amber and I rented "The Last King of Scotland" last night. No joke. Pick a movie, swipe credit card, take movie, and return it in a little slot one day later.

Blockbuster is goin' down.

 

Health fair

It looks like there's some kind of health fair going on outside the student center. I think I might get my blood pressure checked when the line goes down.

If it's not off the charts, then I'm not working hard enough.

Update: I must be lazy. 116/67

 

How to get out of wedding planning:

Feign incompetence. Ok, well I tried...

Wedding planning is tons of work. It mostly involves aesthetics and people's feelings--two areas where I am wholly incompetent.

I hear it's also important to pay attention to details. Amber and I were making invitations this weekend, and I decided to try helping. I have a feeling that she'll prefer to take care of things on her own more now... at least that was the plan.

 

My extra teeth

I'm thinking about no longer brushing my teeth. Now that I have backups, what use do I have for the originals?

 

Happy Birthday to Paul

Happy Birthday Paul! In lieu of sending you something you'd like, I took this picture for you on your birthday. Please don't be too disappointed. I'll buy you a big gulp when you get back this summer.

Wish you were here:

 

Perspective

from the samoans:

33 have died in the VT massacre.

233 souls died in Iraq in yesterday's bombings alone.

468 people are estimated to have died in Darfur yesterday from malnutrition and violence.

I don't think I'll wear those Hokie colors tomorrow afterall.

 

My mouth is numb

I've had an interesting day, and I thought I'd share it.

After the usual series of Wednesday morning classes, we had a lunch lecture (which I skipped), and I was scheduled for the dreaded first anesthesia clinic.

I don't really have many fears about using the techniques and methods that I've spent the last 2 and a half years learning. Instead, I have fears about having some other goober use them on me. The only thing worse than getting a shot at the dentist is getting a shot from a dentist who has never given one before.

And that's why I was dreading the anesthesia clinic today--because I was scheduled to receive injections from another student. Rumors have been swirling all semester about the horror stories from years past.

We had a brief little talk from our friendly oral surgeon that included things like this: "push it in unil you hit the bone... then back off a little." And "aspirate (suck with a needle) a little bit to make sure you're not injecting into an artery.

We were then released to our little cubicles to poke each other with needles attached to carpules of xylocaine--2% actually. Somebody had the foresight to supply us with the stuff without epinephrine (so the numbness went away sooner).

Despite my fears of the worst, things went nicely. The injections I recieved went fairly well, and it only hurt a little.

The first injection I gave went smoothly. The second, well.. it went almost as smoothly. She still got numb.

And on that note---so am I, and I really need to stop sucking on my numb cheek.

 

still...

Well, I'm still pretty well distracted. But I haven't seen much of Amber this week.

I have a pathology test tomorrow morning. I'm cramming my little brain full of random pathology facts as fast as I can, but some of it really leaves me baffled.

I do wonder...
Why is this dental student memorizing random facts about the glomeruler appearance of "Focal segmental glomerulonephritis" viewed with an electron microscope?

I can imagine the conversation now...
A patient walks in and says, "Hey doc, my tooth is killing me. But while you're taking a look at it, would you mind giving me some advice on the PAS staining characteristics of my membranous glomerulonephritis? I've been dying to know...

Instead of committing this stuff to long term memory, this dentist-to-be might have to refer patients asking about this to a nephrology specialist.

The weekend is almost here.

 

..like a lily among thorns, is my darling among maidens

It's been a while since my last post. I was distracted.

 

The weekend report

Mom, Dad, and the Round 2 kids came down to Charleston to buy me dinner and go for a sail. I had a blast, and it was cool to all go sailing together. Dad helped me fix the main halyard. Diana lounged on the deck underneath the jib, Austin (despite a few interesting moments) never jumped off the boat, and Mom (as usual) took care of the mundane stuff like driving.

Amber even came along for the ride and appeared as if she was actually having fun on the boat. The last time I saw that was... well--let's just say we got most of our yelling out of our systems last summer. I think she was really scheming and making a list of things to do in order to "offload" my mistress. No--I'm sure that's what she was doing. I distinctly remember hearing, "I'm writing down the stuff we need to do so you can sell the boat."

I know Amber's right, but I also know I'm going to miss that sorry [floosey] of a boat when it's gone. At least my girlfriend is the reliable one, and it's just my boat that seems to run around when I'm not watching. Yup, I think I'll keep the girl and sell the mistress,but not until I've had a chance to go for another spin or two on the latter.

Finally, we topped off the night with dinner at JB's Barbecue. It was as good as usual. I was sad to see that somebody picked all of the gummy worms off the pudding before we got there, but they brought some extra gummy worms out of the kitchen for me.

This weekend was great thanks to the many well-wishers, cookie senders, and bloggers who thought about me. I especially want to thank some very kind cookie suppliers as I've been on a sugar high ever since Saturday.

 

real or fake?

It's another night before another test, so the crazy emails are at it again.

 

Boot Camp

John, Amber, and I were sitting around watching TV the other night. I said, "boot camp looks like it would be tons of fun if you didn't have to join the army afterwards."

John said I was nuts. He could be right. Then he started jawing about how it's awful to wake up at 5am only to get yelled at and run.

I said, that I might enjoy it.

He said I wouldn't.

I said I thought it'd make a great resort idea. Just imagine. 7 day/6night adventure on Paris Island. "You may not feel relaxed afterwards, but you're guaranteed to look better, run faster, and wake up earlier than when you arrived."

He said I was nuts.

I said it'd be worth a try.

He said he'd pay $20 if I'd wake up at 5am every day for a week and run 2 miles.

I said "deal." After all, $20 is enough for two buffets with sweet tea at JB's.

On second thought, maybe that whole bet can wait an extra day or two because it's late, and I'm gonna be too tired in the morning.

 

Cleared for landing on runway 24

After shunning us for Phoenix, AZ a few months ago, Air Tran has decided to bring their airplanes to Charleston beginning in May.

I'm not totally sure what this means for me right now, but there's a chance flying out of Charleston could become reasonable.

 

smokestacks

About the only tax increase I can think of that I would support: Cigs taxed $1.

This is about the only time I get excited about politics.

 

Last runaway boat post

Since Luke asked for it, I'll tell the rest of the story, but that'll be the last of it.

So, Johnny and his little Johnboat helped me get off the oysters on Saturday morning. I threw him a rope attached to the main halyard. He tied it to the back of his boat, and pulled me sideways. That's an interesting feeling.

Since I had a lot of studying to do, I put it on the hook very close to where it went aground--only in water that stayed deep enough for the boat to float.

Then I yaked back to a park, loaded up the rockin' kayak into the back of my car, and went home to study.

Monday afternoon, I yaked back to the boat and moved it to it's normal anchoring place. I've gotta admit, I really enjoyed that.

Amber picked me up downtown, and the boat's been good ever since.

I have researched a little about permanent moorings, but it's just not practical for a boat that's only going to be there a few more months at most.

 

The boat sank

Hah. Just kidding.

With a little help from my new friend, Johnny, the boat is both floating and safe. What a relief.

maybe more later.

 

stupid boat, stupid yak

The old yak took a few fatal blows from the oyster bed. May it rest in peace. More on that (those) stupid yak(s) later.

I present the new yak: something I should have gotten a long time ago, but I was too Murphycheap to do it. Next up: wake up early on a Saturday to rescue the big boat.

I'm thinking about renaming the sailboat: Gone with the Current

 

In honor of a test day

woot.com

 

Valentines Day

Since today is Valentines day, and I'm going to be studying for the rest of it (as soon as I quit goofing around with this blog), I figured I needed to do something for Amber.

And since I won't get to see my favorite girlfriend until the weekend, I drew her a picture.

So um, here ya go:

 

The neverending boat story

Two things are always both expensive and require constant attention: women, and boats.

Today's saga pertains to the latter, although some things could be discussed about the former on other days.

I know I'm going to pay for that, but everybody knows that good writing requires an interesting beginning. Now, I'll proceed to bore you with the facts as I see them (opinions).

When I got the boat, I spent several hours getting things back into shape. I also wanted to investigate why the boat decided to leave its home. The anchors where still attached, but they were tightly wrapped into all kinds of crap. I drew a picture:

Based on the fact that the anchors were fouled beyond use: I deduced that that my Edward Teach was more likely a Pelican than a man.

Now onto the action: I was a little bit surprised when I actually woke up a little after 3am--just as I planned. I drove to a park, then kayaked to "Gone with the Wind." After twenty or thirty minutes of paddling, I could see a dark mast coming out of the water.

Oh no. My heart sunk. Just as my worst fears had predicted, the boat must have starting floating into deeper water when the tide came in, only to flood with water through a previously unnoticed hole in the hull.

Those thoughts lasted only a few seconds, because I soon could discern the entire hull, above water and rocking around. Whew. I started breathing again. And I said to myself, "You silly goober. Just get to the boat, and get the job done."

It was see-sawing back and forth in the water--both good news and bad news. The good news was that it was floating. The bad news is that it was still resting on the keel in the exact place where I left it.

I hopped on board and started to go through to motions of moving the boat to deeper water. I tried every trick I knew to get it off the bottom. I attached one of the sheets to a rope harness and leaned, jumped, and swung out as far as I could, but I couldn't get her to lean far enough over to get off the bottom. She was stuck.

I was already a little wet from the kayak ride, so I jumped into the water and tried pushing her out. But it wouldn't budge.

Finally, I tied a rope to a line running up the mast, walked off to the side and pulled as hard as I could--hoping I could tilt the boat enough to get the keel off, and let her float to safety.

It was close, but it just wasn't enough. I couldn't get her moving, and a full hour and a half had passed, and the tide was on its way out. Since I was cold, I crawled back into the boat, crawled into the cabin, bundled up and grabbed a little sleep. At daylight, I left the boat laying on its side, came home, showered, and went to class.

I have two tests on Thursday, so today will be a boat-free day. My next opportunity will be Saturday morning at from 7 till 8. High tide will be more than 5 feet.

 

More boat news

I made it to the boat today... only it's not in a marsh as predicted. It was resting on an oyster bed instead. Each has their ups and downs. The Marsh would have been kinder to the boat. Oyster beds make it easier to walk around.

My biggest fear was that there would be water pooled inside the cabin, but it was bone dry.

I checked for damage on the outside...only a few scratches.

I set some anchors about 150 feet into the water. I hope that the tide will let the boat swing out into the water tonight. I'll probably go out to monitor it's progress and go for an early morning ride. Next I'll move her somewhere a little safer than next to an oyster bed.

I've got some guesses as to what happened... more on that later.

High tide is 4am. It's bedtime.

 

Boat update

Great news with a sorry twist: The boat has been sighted... in a marsh.

I'm going to cut out of class early today and drive as close as I can. Then I'll yak out to her to evaluate.

 

Dangle the carrot

A US Army recruiter was hanging around the dental student lounge on the fourth floor of Basic Science building yesterday afternoon.

He walked over to the table where I was sitting with some friends and interrupted our conversation like this:

Excuse me, but my name is Major [whoreallycares]. I stopped by to tell you guys a few things about the Army Health professions program. We're now offering a $60,000 bonus, in-school stipends of $1300 a month, and loan repayment up to $120,000. You'll enter as a captain, and captain's pay is right at $5,000 per month. I'd like to know if I can answer any questions for you guys?

I'll give the guy credit for having a good opening statement.

Translation: We're desperate. This war is so jacked up that we can't even get medical personnel any more. Doubling the sign on bonus has had little effect.

Unfortunately, recruiters tend to lie a little bit. I'm sure everything he mentioned is available... just not to one person. If you get the stipend, then you probably aren't eligible for the bonus etc.

Friend #1: If I join, can I drive one of the tanks when we have a little bit of free time?

Recruiter: Um... no. Medical personnel do not fight.
Translation: Are you retarded?

Friend # 2: If I were to sign up, how does the army decide where to send me?
Recruiter: We've got bases all of the world. You order your preferences, and they give you whatever is available.
Translation: Sign the dotted line so that the Army can own your soul. After that, we'll send you on paid vacations to Iraq, Germany, then North Korea, and worst of all--Kansas.

Then Major [whatever] says to me, "You don't look too interested. What's the matter--you don't like the war?"

Me: Um..

Major [whatever]: Go on, you can say it.

Me: No sir, I don't like the war. Even more than that, I don't like the Army. The last thing I'm here for is to sell my soul so I can listen to somebody tell me what to do, where to live, and what to wear.

Major [whatever]: Well, a lot of people in the Army don't like the war. And your patients are going to be your bosses when you start practicing anyhow.

Me: Yes, but they don't make me wake up at 5am. (And they don't send me to Iraq)
Translation: The Army man still needs to up the ante--starting with letting my pick the city from the beginning.

To be honest, the military offers a pretty good deal. Given my current income, the army's salary sounds incredible. The fact that they pay for school is pretty impressive as well.

Three or four years ago dental students were graduating with about $100,000 in school loans. Now the 4 year program costs more like $160,000.

I'm pretty firm on keeping my soul away from the Army, but every now and then it is interesting to think about signing up so I don't have to think about money.

 

A Happy SS on NS day

I just watched a video on gogamecocks.com of SS's NSD media conference, and never before has SS looked so happy. He even used words like "cool, flashier, pizazz, excited, best, brag, excellent and super."

I didn't know that Gamechicken football had anything to do with any of those words.

When it comes to recruiting ESPN is like the head cheerleader in high school. When ESPN likes you, everybody likes you. Plenty of flashy Thursday night games didn't seem to hurt recruiting one bit. They even ranked the new recruits 4th in the nation--several spots higher than scouts or rivals.

A breakthru: "It may change Carolina football forever." Beating your in-state rival makes it easier to recruit in-state. "Good things have happened to us since that game."

"They're gettin' into the habit of doing things the right way." Players now actually go to their classes and offseason workouts. Yes, in stark contrast to previous years, Steve praised the work ethic of the current players.

"We're gonna add a little pizzaz to our uniforms" with UnderArmor. Steve also said that the numbers would "flabergast some of you guys." I don't know what that means. Either USC is getting a great deal, or they're about to pay a lot of money for garnet and black spandex shirts.

Only seven more months until football season....

 

asdf

I'm still pretty bummed about the boat.

In lieu of a real post: Lab Disaster may lead to new cancer drug

I'm hoping for an article: In lieu of my boat magically reappearing: Boat disaster results in Josh winning the lottery without actually playing the lottery.

 

MIA

Have you ever sat back and wondered if something special was just sailing away while you were busy meeting life's demands?

I expect everybody has felt that way. And it appears that something special actually did sail away while I was busy Tuesday afternoon. Because sometime between Tuesday afternoon and Wednesday morning at 8, somebody sailed away in my sailboat. I didn't believe it at first, but it appears that I now have a wonderful view of some empty water with no sailboat sitting in it.

I'm not asking the question, "Why me?" so much as I wonder, "Why my boat?" For the same reason that I always try to park next to the most expensive car in the parking lot, my little boat was surrounded by much nicer boats with lots of cool gadgets. Why wouldn't somebody take a boat that's worth a little more?

It's still conceivable that it drifted away on it's own, or even sunk in 15 feet of water. I'll have to check the sinking hypothesis when it's not 45 degrees and raining.

Until then, if anybody happens to see an Edward Teach wannabe trying to blockade the harbor with a mid-70s Catalina, please tell him that I want my boat back.

 

Ironic Bumper Stickers

In an ironic twist of fate, I got a close-up view of this bumper sticker on my way to school today :

To the unknown driver: Thanks for the friendly "I'm sorry" wave after your less than pristine driving.

 

Things to do before I leave, part 2

During the middle of October of last year, I put together a list of Charleston things to do. Some friends suggested a few additions to my list.

I figure I'll give a Monday update on my progress:

1. Go see the over-priced possibly over-hyped hunley.
2. Make fish faces at the aquarium
3. Go see something fun at the IMAX
4. Sail somewhere fun before the boat's gone.
   
5. Leave some mark
1. Volunteer at a kid's clinic
2. Habitat for Humanity?
3. ?Coach a youth team
6. Visit the Plantations:
1. Magnolia Plantation
2. Middleton Plantation
3. Drayton Hall (yet another plantation)
4. Boone Hall
5. Tea Plantation
7. Go see a Riverdogs baseball game
8. Catch a couple of fish
9. Play football on the Yorktown
10. Go kayaking in the marshes
11. Yell while the Charleston Battery plays some soccer
12. Visit Charlestontown Landing
13. Go shrimping
14. Try oysters
15. Visit Edward Rutledge's Grave
16. Visit Fort Sumpter
17. Take pictures at the Angel Oak (arguable the oldest thing this side of the Missisip.
18. Ditto with Fort Moultrie
19. Explore that other fort sitting in the middle of the harbor (Castle Pinckney)
20. Learn to surf
21. Take a picture at Palmetto Islands Co. Park
22. Experience a Ghost Tour
23. Figure out what’s at Pinckney National Historic Site
24. Fort Lamar / Battle of Secessionville
25. Hang out at Cypress Gardens in Goose Creek
26. Graduate and "get outa here"

 

Mistaken Identity

Every once in a while, somebody mistakes me for someone, or something, I am not. Usually it's just a wrong number. About twice a month, I get a call from a random 803 area code number. Usually it's just somebody asking for a person with a name like T-money. I once replied to a caller with the wrong number, "Yeah, this is T-money. What you want?" But I never could manage to craft my way through much more fake conversation than that.

An old man named Brother Smith once left me a voice mail message apologizing for a disagreement between he and brother Williams. I'm not sure how, "Hey, This is Josh. Leave a message" didn't clue him in to the fact that he was leaving a message at the wrong number. Nonetheless, it was a moving apology.

Other times, random people have mistaken me for people they knew. It's always fun to see the look of embarrassment written on a stranger's face when you turn around after they mistake you for a friend or family. Not only have they created an awkward social situation, but they've also essentially admitted that they haven't been observant enough to discern a loved one from a random one.

Two or three times after the movie "Spider Man" came out, some elementary school children mistook me for Toby McGuire. I guess they couldn't tell one scrawny white kid from another.

But last night, while eating dinner with John B and Amber, I might have received the biggest backhanded complement of all. The Manager/Owner of The Crab Shack on Folly Beach credited me as the owner of a beautiful silver Porsche Carrera that was blocking some cars from exiting the parking lot behind the restaurant.

I guess that means I either looked like somebody who could afford a Porsche, or I looked like the biggest jerk in the restaurant.

 

Help Wanted

Help wanted: Applicant must be a current or former Muslim Extremist with working knowledge and experience recruiting and training of suicide bombers.

Future dental practice seeks your expertise in motivation speaking and logic coaching in order to convince more patients to floss. Previous dental experience not necessary, although the ideal applicant will have most of his teeth and understand basic oral hygiene.

Why kill hundreds of people when you can kill millions evil, cavity causing anaerobic bacteria? You can use your talents to ease suffering, save teeth, extend lives, and eliminate the little bit of blood that swishes out after non-flossers brush their teeth. That's right, a (hopefully) successful future dental practice wants you to be a full-time dental hygienist.

Clearly, you are very talented at convincing people to the rightness and justness of your cause. If you can convince 20something year old men to blow their guts into oblivion with a promise of paradise with 40 virgins, then perhaps you could extend your talents to a new field by using your guile and talent to eradicate the evil Zionist gingivitis.

Full benefits are available to qualified applicants, however we cannot make matching contributions to 401k's involving dozens of virgins or paradise.

Please send resume and references to:

Floss Religiously
123 Oak St.
Noplaque, OH 01142

 

It's time to switch to the new blogger

1. Until a few days ago, I wouldn't have recommended that anybody else upgrade to the new version of blogger.
   Sure, the Beta version (now the NEW blogger) made it easier to edit your template, had faster uploads for new entries, and offered a few new templates. But it had a terrible downfall: I couldn't get Firefox to remember the password for the Blogger Beta.
   I don't know what changed since three days ago, but Firefox now happily remembers my Blogger password along with all of the other inconsequential passwords that I don't care to type. I no longer regret switching to the new thing.
   
   
2. I've been reading a blog for a while, and I thought you might like to check it out: Creating passionate users. It mostly discusses software marketing (which I have no use for) and brain tricks that marketers use (which everybody has a use for). I like the models and the ideas such as: Don't have a product everybody "kinda likes." Make something that everybody either hates or loves.
   
   
3. I haven't been writing a lot lately, and I haven't written much that involved a lot of thought. I propose two reasons/excuses.
   
1. I really haven't been thinking that much lately. I've done plenty of memorizing, but not a lot of thinking.
   
2. Something's up with my right hand. Two fingers keep going numb. Typing makes it worse. I've scheduled a visit with hand doc.
   
   

 

How to be a bad blogger

How to be a bad blogger: update sporadically.

Yes, I've been a bad blogger. I'll be sure to flog and whip myself at a later date.

In my defense, I have been busy. I don't know what logic the powers that be use to create that schedule that is, but they created a monster a semester. Fortunately, it will be my last semester of grinding through page after page of .... um... information. In a few more months, I intend to graduate to grinding bigger and better things: such as body parts like teeth and bones.

4-year-old Austin may have had a good idea. After school his first goal in a soccer game, he asked his coach for his trophy. Maybe after my first test is over, I'll make a request for a diploma.

 

Tennessee Waltz

For as long as I can remember, surely before I knew anything about US geography, Papa would sing a funny song about Tennessee whenever he wanted us to lay down, be still, and go to sleep. Despite years of practice singing tenor and base in a capella West Texas churches of Christ, his voice would crack a little when he'd reach for high notes, but it didn't matter. My eyelids would still turn into 100 pound weights before he'd reach the third line.

I was waltzin' with my darlin' to the Tennessee waltz,
when an old friend I happened to see

I introduced her, to my loved one,
and while they were dancing,
my "friend" stole my sweetheart from me

I remember the night, and the Tennessee waltz,
now I know just how much I have lost

Yes, I lost my little darlin', the night they were playin' - the beautiful Tennessee waltz

Patti Page popularized the song, Tennessee Waltz, in 1950, and I suppose Papa has been singing it ever since. It's ironic how a sad, half-century old song about losing your girlfriend to a "friend" continues to bring back warm memories every time I hear it, think it, or well.. sing it..

By the way, I'm getting pretty sleepy, so I think I'll take a good nap now.

Thanks Papa.

• You can make a lot of money. You can make a lot of friends. But you can't make a lot of both.
  

 

Junk Mail

My crystal ball says the the weather over the past few days has been too pretty to blog.

In lieu of a real post, I choose to refer you to an old lifehacker article: cleaning up your snail mail.

Briefly, in other news:

• Gamecock basketball has become a national embarrassment. I expect the only productive player--Tre' Kelly to quit trying sooner rather than later.
  
  
• Quote from a source to remain unnamed: "My wife is an animal rights activist. If you happen to wander into our yard in all fours, she'll give you a bed and plenty of food. The bad news is that she'll also de-flea, de-lice, and spay or neuter you."

Memories from MLK day coming soon.

 

MUSC Smoking Ban

While I enjoy the smell of cigars and pipes, I abhor cigarette smoke. It stinks, makes my nose itch, causes my eyes water, and it makes me cough. Most of all, it just really pisses me off.

I'm baffled by the millions of cigarette smokers who insist that it's their right to poison the air that I have no choice but to breathe with more than 40 carcinogens. They complain that smoking bans infringe on their right to enjoy a cigarette, yet they could care less that their smoke wafts into my air--and I believe I'm entitled to clean, healthy air.

When Charleston kids put things into their teacher's drink a few months ago, they were accused of assault. If I put lead in your drinking water or poison your food, I've committed a crime. Yet you poison my air and call it your God-given right.

I have nothing against other people putting bad things into their bodies. If you want to smoke, I'm very happy for you; however, if you want to make me smoke your smoke, then we have a problem.

MUSC had a very serious problem because there was no refuge from the smoke, and I'm pleased to announce that I'm very pleased that MUSC has announced restricted smoking areas around the hospital grounds. Now the many nurses, doctors, patients, nervous visitors, and students will be forced to smoke in herds instead of spread out all over the entire campus.

Here's part of the message sent to me by MUSC president, Dr. Greenberg:

Dear Students,

As you may know, effective this month, smoking will be restricted to a limited number of areas at the Medical University of South Carolina. This policy has been adopted by the Board of Trustees and reflects our desire to protect the health of those who work and study here, as well as those who visit our campus. Moreover, we believe that limiting smoking is consistent with our role as the state’s leading center for health education, biomedical research, and advanced clinical care. ...

Unfortunately, the restrictions don't go far enough. This clean air attempt was actually spearheaded by MUSC student government, but it met some resistance from MUSC's board and the lawyers, who, for fear of lawsuits, watered down the smoking ban to the point that it is very nearly meaningless.

1. There is no enforcement, and no penalty has been prescribed for those smokers who insist on polluting wherever they please. We need a smoking ban with teeth.

2. The smoking areas are still right next to entrances. I'm not real sure who decided on the locations for the designated smoking areas, but whoever made that decision must think that the smoke goes straight up into the atmosphere.
The main smoking area is directly outside the major hospital doors, and I still walk through a cloud of smoke every time I walk into the hospital.
We need a smoking ban with some more thoughtful designation of smoking areas--perhaps completely abolishing cigarettes from MUSC's campus.

But if MUSC's board of reagents can't handle that, then I'd humbly settle for smoke-free entrances.

 

Taco bell trouble #2

For the fourth time, I've sworn off the Folly Road Taco Bell because I'm convinced that it is undoubtedly the worst Taco Bell in the United States. I would claim that it's the worst in the world, but I'm not sure if international Taco Bells exist.

I have never had a good trip to that taco bell. They ALWAYS screw things up. Every few months I try them again because.... well, I'm cheap.

After watching a quarter of the Florida Alligators punishing Ohio State, Amber and I decided to make a quick run to Taco Bell.

We aimed straight for the drive-thru:

Amber hates lettuce. It goes against every part of my being to make special requests of fast food workers, but one must choose whether tis nobler to combat the girlfriend, or to combat the restaurant workers. I once made the mistake of combating the girlfriend... but that's another story entirely.

Me:
2 soft tacos, no lettuce;
2 crunchy tacos;
and 1 cheesy bean and rice burrito

Retarded Taco Bell Employee: So you don't want lettuce on the soft tacos or the crunchy tacos.

Me: Only hold the lettuce on soft tacos.

RTBE: so you don't want any lettuce...

Me: Yes, I want lettuce on the crunchy tacos

RTBE: okay, so you only want no lettuce on the soft tacos?

Me: yes.

RTBE: what did you want? I forgot. (followed by random conversations between drivethru girl and somebody else)

Me:
2 soft tacos, no lettuce;
2 crunchy tacos;
and 1 cheesy bean and rice burrito

RTBE: (waits about 2 minutes) Ok, pull around

I pay with a credit card: $3.xx

Somehow we ended up with no lettuce on everything. I think they screwed up pushing buttons on the cash register too.

The receipt had nothing at all to do with our order. I have no idea what that cash register girl did.

If the Folly Road taco bell owner/whoever ever happens to read this--I hope you're upset. Oh, and I hope that you'll let me inform your sorry workers that they're fired. They're consistently the worst I ever saw.

 

unmotivated

I've been unmotivated to write lately.

maybe I'll get back into it during the next few days