Good things happen in threes, too

Good thing #1: I had to take my car back to the mechanic today. Who doesn't hate having to deal with problems he doesn't understand? Being at the mercy of a specialist is scary. Really, he could tell me anything, and how am I to know? Anyway, the shop called within an hour of my arrival to tell me the problem is covered under my warranty.

Good thing #2: I rented a car to get around until mine is ready. The agent volunteered the information that they offer a 5% discount to customers of the shop where my car is being worked on.

Good thing #3: My first stop after renting the car was at my bank where I made my credit card payment. The teller explained that with my savings balance, I'd be much better off with a money market account, and she set one up for me in about 30 seconds.

Why can't I just enjoy the kindness of strangers? I'm worried that I used up all the good will in less than an hour.

Here she is

I'm not sure why it worked this time.

The vagaries of dial-up

My last post was uploaded using my dial-up connection. I tried to add the picture of Henry three times with no success. Just tried again on a high-speed connection, but am having the same problem. What the?

Does this dog look familiar?

This is Henry. She was rescued from a fast food restaurant parking lot. I thought she was a mutt. She looks like a cross between a chihuahua and a great dane. When I showed her picture to a classmate, she told me her brother has a dog just like her, and recommended an Internet search on "Carolina Dog." Wow. Henry has a twin.

I have to get out more

Ended up cancelling last night in favor of staying in to work. Should have gone out. Starting to get cabin fever. And become quite dull.
It's raining finally. Maybe the well won't go dry this year after all.

I really don't have time for this

So. Took a couple of hours off yesterday afternoon to interview for the position of new girlfriend. The place we decided to meet, River Road Ice House, was pretty cool. The radio station I'm listening to these days, KNBT ("Contrary to ordinary"), is constantly sponsoring events there, so it's about time I checked it out. They have quite a variety of bottled beer, drink specials, and live music lots of nights.For so early in the day, the crowd, small though it was, was pretty rowdy. Someone actually threw me some beads and shouted, "Show us your tits!" Awkward. I did not comply.
Anyway. Everything else went well. Colin and I compared scars, flirted, told funny, self-deprecating stories, and agreed to get together again sometime. Well, I think he's trying to lead me astray. I took a break this morning from working on my nurse refresher course and called to say thanks for the good fun. He asked what I'm doing tonight. I said working on grad school and nursing refresher stuff. He insists I'll need a break and must put everything aside for a couple of hours. Hmm.

Green beer all around

OK. I have no intention of drinking any green beer, but I am meeting the new guy for an amber one later. I think I'll invite a pinch by not wearing green. Happy St. Patrick's Day.

The Bug Man

My exterminator came to visit today. He is Dale Gribble's un-evil twin. He has a degree in philosophy, and I'm pretty sure he minored in insect psychology. The first time he came to spray, we talked about my scorpion problem. I live in rural Texas, so scorpions come with the territory, but why, I wondered, were they coming into the house? Jon told me that crickets are the scorpion's favorite food. Cave crickets. Mole crickets. In the summer my house is cool and dark. In the feeble mind of the scorpion, Jon told me, my house is a cave, thus Cricketville.

Enough already about the blog title

I've had a couple of offline comments about the title and the linked poem. Don't follow the trend and get the wrong idea. No need to worry. I don't see the Larkin poem as a lament, rather, as a cautionary tale.

Do you have a brother?

Why do we do it? We meet someone fabulous, the "perfect" spouse of a friend, and ask the question, "Do you have a brother (or sister)?" when what we really mean is, "Do you have a clone?" I am the sister of a saint. Her husband's single, male friends ask if I exist. When they say I do, these men start lobbying for a meeting. I am nothing like my sister. OK, maybe a little like her, but not in the ways they hope.
I agreed to one of these meetings this weekend. It went surprisingly well, but he doesn't know me yet.

Entering the Blogosphere

It's funny. Before this week, I didn't read blogs at all. Now that I'm required to keep one for a few weeks, I'm being bombarded by bloggers.

Out playing pool with a friend on Thursday night, I met a guy who gave me his blog URL. Is this the new, "Hey, give me a call," or what? Actually, I think it's a pretty good filter. I got a chance to read some postings and learn a little bit about him. One could argue that people can write whatever they want and misrepresent themselves. Sure. But, maybe blogging is a little like being on a reality show. I don't think anyone can fake it for very long. Eventually, the camera just disappears, and the nosepicking commences.

Okay. So that was Thursday. Then Friday, my dad (who doesn't know about this assignment) sent me an email with links to my cousins' blogs. Gosh, they're cool. Brian is a cartoon artist (hope that's the right term) whose blog is an online art journal. Sam is a tour guide who lives in Italy, or he is a tourist in Italy, it's kind of hard to tell from his blog. Anyway, he lives in Italy and writes about it.

On second thought, maybe "bombarded" is too strong a word for these two instances.

Friday, I attended a conference with a bunch of information professionals (librarians) working in special libraries. Gosh, librarians are cool. I can't wait to be one.