Thursday, January 30, 2003
Wiped
This week's long, busy work days -- coupled with it being my "Friday," my intense workout yesterday afternoon and rowing this morning -- totally wiped me out. I was a zombie this morning when I finally went to bed. I got up in the mid-afternoon to make myself a sandwich, but I barely knew what I was doing. I ate and plopped right down on the bed again. I've just woken up, and it's 7 p.m.
There went the first of my off days.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 07:20 PM EST [Link]
"Stroke this" update
The coach, yelling through a megaphone to my boat during practice: "Ladies. Nothing personal, but if you want Audrea to stroke the boat, I suggest you find a boat that can be starboard-rigged."
In other words, "You row like shit on port. No offense."
Oh well. I'm still committed to trying to switch. We'll see. I do hope they can find a starboard-riggable boat, though. That would solve all my problems.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 07:54 AM EST [Link]
Stroke this
More rowing news that will bore you, but hey, it's my Web site...
I've been asked by several members of my boat if I would be interested in "stroking" the boat (snort snort). The stroke, or "8 seat," sits in front of the coxswain and is the person whom everyone else follows. It requires a good sense of rhythm and concentration, because if the stroke screws up, the other rowers probably will follow.
I'm up to the challenge. I stroked (yes, it's a verb and a noun) a four-rower boat -- surprisingly called a "four" -- in a college race in Melbourne. On a whim, our coach took the biggest four rowers from my eight and entered us in a race. I guess he had me stroke because the other girls were much taller than me (ideally, the bigger, stronger people sit in the middle of the boat). We came in last. But my current crew doesn't need to know that...
The major twist this time is that I'm having to switch sides to row. I've always rowed on the starboard (right) side. Although most boats are rigged so that the stroke is on the port side, some boats allow you to adjust the rigging so that a starboard can stroke.
The lame-ass boat we have doesn't.
For the past few practices, I've rowed on port side but not at stroke. I'm gaining new blisters, aches and pains where I've never had them. Switching sides is no different than learning to bat left-handed when you've always batted right or playing tennis with the other arm. Everything is a mirror-image of what you're used to. Your muscles and mind have to be retrained.
When I explained the logistics to my boyfriend, he amusingly went into man mode: "Oh. I see. So it's like in Rocky, when the coach tied his arm behind his back during workouts so that he would be forced to box with the other arm!"
I'm stroking our boat tomorrow morning. Wish me luck.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 12:57 AM EST [Link]
Wednesday, January 29, 2003
Annoyed
A co-worker who sits near me has been on her (very loud) cell phone for I swear two hours. I didn't know cell phones could hold a charge for that long.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 10:16 PM EST [Link]
Play ball
This is sure to make my man happy. He's an avid Houston Astros fan who can't normally see their games:
Are you ready for some baseball? You better be, because baseball is ready for broadband. After last season's foray into online audio broadcasts, Major League Baseball and Real Networks are preparing to offer video service for $6 to $10 a month, according to a story in the New York Times. Will it pay? Combine the nearly 20% of American homes that have the high-speed, or broadband, Internet connections that can handle high-quality video webcasts, with an ever-growing displaced baseball fan base, and Bob Bowman, chief executive of MLB Advanced Media, thinks he may have a home run. "There are hundreds of thousands of displaced baseball fans around the world," says Bowman. "I'm sure they will pay $6 or $10 a month to watch their teams."
Posted by Lynniechan @ 05:08 PM EST [Link]
Drive time
We've been shopping around for a new car for the BF. His car has well over 100K miles on it, and although it's been a great car and he's gotten more than his money's worth out of it, it's time to put it to rest. We spent a good chunk of last Saturday at a Nissan dealership. We both currently own Nissans and have been pleased with our cars up to this point.
The visit was mentally exhausting. I know it's cliche, but I hate dealing with car salesmen. You just know inside that no matter how good of a deal you think you're getting, they're the ones who are coming out ahead.
We initially were greeted by a young lackey, possibly a salesman in training. A heavyset twentysomething, baggy-pants type, he was fairly clueless and occasionally would have to refer to the car's specs taped to the rear window when we asked him a question. It was clear that he was there just to fetch cars, take you on a test drive and make sure you made it into an office. I groaned inside and thought it careless and less than professional of the dealership's management that they would have someone like him greet potential paying customers. Was he supposed to be hip, speak to a younger demographic? It wasn't working for me.
I asked him to leave us alone to give us some time to talk about what we saw. I personally thought the 6-cylinder we test-drove rode smoother than the 4 -- just not enough to justify several thousand dollars more on the sticker price. I also was mildly disappointed that it wasn't more quiet inside the car -- a 2003 -- as it drove. The BF was slightly concerned as well, but we both agreed that if they made us a great offer, then it would be worth it. We could be bought.
We ended up in an office, much to Lackey Boy's excitement. He started throwing out numbers, and we countered with some questions. Soon, he "had to run some numbers by" a co-worker and excused himself. Here we go, I thought. I sighed and told Stephen that we're about to find out how many managers will fit in this room.
Lackey Boy came back an eternity later with Salesman. (I mentally noted more unprofessionalism in letting us sit there for so long unattended.) He was several years older than Lackey Boy and at least wore a button-down shirt. We were working our way up the food chain. He spouted some numbers that did not sit well with us. And instead of answering our questions, he returned our questions with questions of his own. A grueling, pointless interrogation ensued. I said we weren't getting anywhere and firmly told him we weren't making any decisions until we had some answers. My God. It wasn't rocket science. We just wanted to know how much they were going to give us for our trade-in.
He and Lackey Boy excused themselves. While they were gone, Stephen and I joked that the room might be bugged. We laughed nervously. Although it had become clear after talking with Salesman that their selling price and our offer weren't going to jibe, we wanted to stick around to see where this went.
Lackey Boy and Salesman came back with The Professional. The Professional clearly had been in this business for a while and was there to seal deals. He looked like a poor man's Craig Kilborn but shorter and with horrible, spiky, highlighted hair. He wore a solid black button-down shirt that was buttoned to the top. (What was he thinking? That that looked good? His look alone was enough to end any deal with me.) The Professional took a seat at the desk while Salesman and Lackey Boy stood by and watched. He explained to us that a "coupon" we'd received in the mail and brought with us would be all they could come down on the price of the car. I protested and said I thought the coupon wasn't much of a coupon at all if it doesn't amount to anything more than what would be negotiated anyway.
I'd seen his type before when shopping for cars with my dad. He was the one who pretended to innocently admit, in a we're-the-victim sort of way, that "we are running a business here after all," and they had to turn some sort of profit. He was experienced at putting out fires.
He answered our questions. Unfortunately, we weren't budging on our offer, and he wasn't budging on his. He did put us in a better mood before we walked out, though.
We were both glad and relieved we didn’t drive away with a new car. We were also proud that we didn't let anything get away from us or let them pressure us into signing anything. Despite the stress, we got a handle on what we can afford and what we’ll get for our money. We’re going to try again this weekend.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 04:11 AM EST [Link]
Tuesday, January 28, 2003
Crank yanker
I continually receive bizarre phone calls and messages on my cell phone. Tonight I had a good one. It was a two-minute long excerpt of the Heart song "Crazy on You," then a cough, then a hangup.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 03:56 AM EST [Link]
Sunday, January 26, 2003
Checking in
Sorry I've been out of pocket again this weekend. I was hardly home and unavailable to post anything. Thanks to D. & S., who showed me an awesome time on Friday. It was so nice to see you guys, and I had an incredible time (despite the frostbite, but it made for an interesting adventure). And congratulations on the new house! Keep in touch. It seems like I see you all less than when you lived out of state. ;(
(Does this sound like a TRL dedication or what? Oh well. Still love you two.)
Posted by Lynniechan @ 04:23 PM EST [Link]
Wednesday, January 22, 2003
Left in the cold
From WSJ.com:
Looking for an office thermostat that actually works? Good luck and Godspeed.
You may never find it. The controls for your company's heating, ventilation and air conditioning (HVAC) are likely hidden in the office ducts. If you do spy a thermostat, it's probably locked, or encased behind shatterproof glass.
Even worse, HVAC experts acknowledge what millions of office workers have suspected all along: A lot of office thermostats are completely fake -- meant to dupe you into thinking you've altered the office weather conditions.
[MORE]
Posted by Lynniechan @ 03:26 AM EST [Link]
Tuesday, January 21, 2003
Drive thru
DETROIT -- Buying big, luxurious sport-utility vehicles could cost a lot less under the Bush administration's economic stimulus proposal, even though a Bush appointee blasted SUVs last week as dangerous fuel hogs.
Small businesses and the self-employed could deduct the entire cost, up to $75,000, from business income the year of the purchase. Normally it would be written off over several years, using a depreciation schedule. Deducting the entire cost in one year considerably reduces that year's taxable income, and income taxes. In some cases, it could result in paying no federal income tax.
A similar deduction in the current tax code is limited to $25,000. Tripling that creates a much more alluring incentive at a time when SUVs are under fire for fuel consumption and safety concerns.
Bush appointee Jeffrey Runge, head of the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration, scolded automakers at an industry conference one week ago for not making SUVs safer and more fuel efficient. He told reporters that he considers some SUVs so dangerous he wouldn't allow his family in them ''if they were the last vehicles on Earth.''
[MORE]
And an even better story posted by infinitefetish: Bumper Mentality
Posted by Lynniechan @ 07:07 PM EST [Link]
Oz-fest
In my iTunes library right now are Australian bands Men at Work, INXS, The Avalanches and Hoodoo Gurus. Odd.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 01:50 PM EST [Link]
Spring break
I regret that I have a horrible memory for experiences, dates and times. When I do remember a story, a word, sound or event suddenly stirs it to the surface.
* * *
My best friend in high school, A., went away to college, to a Very Expensive Private School in a big city out of state. During our freshman year, I went up to visit her for spring break. It was my first time away from home without family, and I was excited for the opportunity to see her and happy that my parents trusted me to drive 10 hours by myself.
We were both excited to see each other. Although we were inseparable in high school and had earnestly kept in touch right after graduation, our many long-distance phone calls -- remember, this is still the Era Before E-mail -- had become less frequent as time went on, and we hardly had spoken to each other in a couple of months. I hoped we weren't growing apart.
(Aside alert: Someone's going to stumble upon an old, cached version of this blog many years from now and wonder how society could possibly have gotten along without the Internet: "OMG, this person remembers when there was no e-mail?!?!?! Gah! How did people live back then?" Although e-mail technically did exist at this time, it wasn't yet mainstream; most regular folks would not have heard of it.)
Anyway, I quickly found out why her calls were getting fewer and far between. She had a boyfriend. He was her first serious one -- the one you meet sometime during your first couple of years of college. The one you youthfully, blindly fall head over heels for. The one that ends up spending every night in your dorm room. The one you think is The One because you're young and have never done any of the things you do with him with anyone else.
A. introduced me to J. soon after I got there. I quickly picked up that they were inseparable -- and, that for the purposes of this trip, "we" would mean the "three of us" instead of just A. and me. I was fine with that. I'm not necessarily a people person and am uncomfortable with hellos and goodbyes. But once I get to know someone, I'm my old self, whatever that means. J. was her life right now, and I was happy for her. I was happy at least one of us had found a life.
"Do you mind if J. hangs out with us?" Of course not. (And really, was I going to tell her yes?)
So for the next few days, the three of us -- and several other dormmates who dropped in and out of our group as their schedules allowed -- had a blast being college freshmen away from home. We drank. We went down to the river and shopped. We cranked up bad early '90s classic rock and partied in the dorm. We drove all around town, took pictures and went sightseeing (hey, I had brought a functioning car!). I was having the time of my life.
With the three of us being together night and day, I considered him my good friend now and felt comfortable enough to hang with him without needing A.'s presence.
One day, J., knowing that I played softball (poorly, on a horrible team, in the worst two positions and for only one year) in high school, asked if I wanted to throw around a baseball in the grassy common in front of the dorm. Yeah!!! Cool. The weather was beautiful, and I was itching to do something outdoors. We went down, tossed a ball around while he told me about his love for the Red Sox (he was from Baahhhhhston) and had a great time.
A. was not happy.
She was in a pouty, gloomy mood after that. She wanted to talk to me.
"J. and I have been talking. Things aren't good with us. We're not getting along."
"What in the world? Why? I thought we were having a blast?"
"J. told me he's starting to like you." (sob)
"Oh boy."
What? Where did that come from? And why does having a good time have to be so complicated?
First of all, he was in love with A., right? They couldn't keep their hands off each other. And to me, he was my buddy J., my best friend's boyfriend.
Second, the thought of someone being attracted to me was completely foreign to me. Guys noticed A., who was cute, flirty, talkative, giggly and witty; guys did not notice me, who was plain, tomboyish, shy, quiet and antisocial. Boys typically looked upon me as just one of the guys. And honestly, I was fine with that, most of the time, since I was awkward and painfully shy in relationships anyway. I played the best friend role well, the one who always had boy friends without ever having boyfriends. For that reason, I had given up on the idea of any boy liking me a long time ago and had put those thoughts out of mind.
The clues were obvious. I flashed back: J. had jumped at the chance to escort me to and show me the new gym facility the school just built; he had been eager to show me his record collection (we both had an interest in music), and we bonded over the bands and records we both liked; he had thought it cool that I "got" sports (not really, but just enough to fake my way through a couple of conversations and pretend I knew something).
But partly because of denial and partly because I was indescribably naive when it came to boys, I never read between the lines on any of that. There could have been a huge billboard erected outside his dorm-room window with his name, a heart and my name and I wouldn't have put two and two together.
"He says he likes you because you have a lot in common," A. said. "J. and I don't have in common the things you two do (sob).
"Why did you have to hang out with him so much?"
Naturally, to her, it's my fault. I stole her boyfriend. Maybe I was partly to blame. Maybe I flirted with him. I honestly didn't know how to flirt, so if I did, I wasn't aware I was doing it. Should I not have played ball with him? Or listened to music with him? A. and I never argued over him; heck, I don't think we had ever argued about anything. But it was clear that in her eyes, I ruined their relationship.
The things was, I did like him, but I couldn't admit that to anyone. I was attracted to Red Sox baseball cap-wearing J., who was cute, shy, Jewish, and tall and lanky. But I am good at keeping secrets and hiding my feelings.
So for the rest of my vacation, A. understandably never left me alone with J. The three of us pretended to ignore the tension hanging over our heads. I can't say whether they enjoyed the rest of our time together, but if they didn't, they did a good job of pretending like they did. Maybe they argued while I wasn't around; I don't know. I certainly enjoyed the rest of my vacation -- always wishing I could steal a few moments alone with J. but feeling sad that that couldn't happen. I could sense he felt the same way, too. It was hard to ignore our feelings, but we behaved.
A. and J. never really patched things up. After several breakups and hookups, it was over. Although A. was bitter for years that I caused their breakup, she and I are still friends.
J. and I promised to keep in touch. We exchanged phone numbers and addresses, and for a year, we corresponded off and on. I think we both kept in touch hoping we would somehow cross paths again, this time without A. Silly -- but we had grown very close very quickly, so maybe we were meant to be together? I did briefly visit him one more time a year later, but by then we both had moved on to other people.
I probably lived a year's worth of college life in that spring break. Thanks, A. and J., for giving me one of the most memorable trips of my life. I'm sorry things ended the way they did. Thanks, J., for making me realize for the first time that I could be more than just one of the guys.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 05:04 AM EST [Link]
Saturday, January 18, 2003
Homeward bound revisited
Damn it all to hell. I should have just sucked it up and gone to that birthday party after all. I haven't seen some of the friends/guests in a long time. Grrrrr. I think my antisocialism is getting worse. I'm going to end up living in a cave when I grow up.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 10:53 PM EST [Link]
Mad about him
Other than a few shopping trips and a visiting friend, I have been alone the past few days.
My boyfriend has worked all three days I've had off. It's been just me, my cats (who, though affectionate, strangely aren't very conversational), my computer and the roar of the heater. I've been able to catch up on some DVDs that have been stacking up, play music loudly and eat whatever leftovers I can scrounge from the fridge. I've felt like a husband whose wife has gone out of town for a week. I haven't exactly accomplished much. But I somehow have found the quiet solitude of the house cathartic.
It reminds me of an old episode of Mad About You . I never watched the show but happened to stop on it one day while channel-surfing. In it, Helen Hunt's husband, Paul Reiser, got a contract job at the same place she worked. They traveled together, worked together, of course lived together -- they were around each other 24/7. Finally, both cracked, and they had an argument. Later, she declared, "I love you, I love you! But I can't stand being around you right now!" And in the perfect world of episodic TV, they made up and the show went on.
The oldie-but-a-goodie moral of the story was: It's healthy to spend some time away from your loved one every now and then, especially if you see each other all the time, so you appreciate him more when he's with you.
I've missed him tonight. I wish he were home now, spending time with me.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 09:36 PM EST [Link]
Homeward bound
I was invited to a party tonight, but I did not go. Now I'm bored.
A good friend of mine invited me to a birthday party for a friend of his at a local restaurant. I declined, mainly because I'm only an acquaintance of the birthday girl, P., and didn't feel comfortable being invited by another guest.
My good friend got upset at this: "You know P. fine... It's OK... I told her you're coming... There's room for you at the table... You're friends with several of the other guests... Well fine. Whatever. Talk to you later. Bye."
Though I am good friends with several of the guests, and P. was told I was invited, I've only talked to P. maybe twice. So I didn't think it was right for me to be there because the birthday girl herself didn't invite me. Plus, I would have had to make small talk with P., and I hate forced conversation with people I don't know well. Call me antisocial.
What do you think? Do you think it would have been OK to go? Now I've got my good friend pissed at me for being such an antisocial homebody.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 09:26 PM EST [Link]
Thursday, January 16, 2003
Sushi stop
Tonight, I went to one of my favorite restaurants, Shiki, and had some great sushi for dinner. As I sat at the sushi bar, I overheard the sushi chef talking to another employee (or perhaps he was a co-owner) in Japanese. I recognized a few sounds here and there -- I wouldn't call them complete words -- but just enough to deduce that they were talking about someone's age.
It was another depressing reminder of one of my greatest regrets: I never learned to speak Japanese -- despite having a Japanese mother and once having lived in Japan.
There are several reasons why I never learned, though they aren't excuses. For one, I spent the better part of my childhood traveling with my family from Air Force base to Air Force base with each transfer my dad received. We managed to settle at Kadena Air Base in Okinawa, Japan, for several years. I went to kindergarten through third grade there. Now I may have lived in Japan, but I lived on an American military base, and all of my teachers, friends and classmates were other Americans. I never had to speak Japanese to anyone; no one else I knew spoke Japanese, either, other than my mom, and she speaks fluent English. (OK, I define fluent as being knowledgeable in words and grammar. She never has a problem speaking, but she does have a thick accent.) There obviously was Japanese TV, but the military base broadcast English-language programming as well.
Apparently, my mom tried several times to speak Japanese to me when I was little, but I refused to listen and insisted she spoke English. Growing up, I never really fit in with the other kids. I don't look "American," thanks to my mom's genes, and that led to a fair amount of teasing in school. So when my mom would attempt to teach me a few Japanese words, I would belligerently ignore her, because I didn't want to be any less "American" than I already looked. The other American kids didn't speak a foreign language, so why should I? Somehow, by a kid's twisted logic, I thought that just speaking English would make me more "American" and ease the teasing. My mom eventually gave up.
I regret that more than ever now. But as a youngster, you don't reflect on your actions; you're just acting emotionally.
Of course, I've managed to pick up a few words here and there, mostly Japanese prepositions, directions, greetings and such that my mom somehow sprinkles into her English. I'm sure only my dad, sister and I can decipher her sometimes. That's how I can recognize Japanese when I hear it, even though I don't necessarily know the words. I'm just familiar with the sounds associated with it. Growing up, and still now, it seems like the only Japanese I know for sure is, "get down," "be quiet," "are you hungry," "time to eat," and short phrases like that that any mom would say to a child. I still spin around whenever I hear someone speaking Japanese, because I know it's Japanese.
Even though my sister and I never learned Japanese, we were never far from a small bit of Japanese culture. We always had weird Japanese food in the house, things American kids would cringe at, such as shrimp-flavored crackers; osembe (oh-sem-bay), or odd-shaped rice crackers; and nori (noh-ree) in the fridge, which is seaweed, dried or as a paste. One day I came home from school to find a whole octopus, tentacles and all, in the kitchen sink. Even I couldn't stand that.
Living in Japan, I also got cool Japanese toys in addition to all of the other "normal" toys American kids got. One Christmas, I got a toy pachinko machine as a gift. (Pachinko is a huge game in Japan, much like slots. The pachinko machine accepts coins, and shiny, chrome balls fall down the machine, bouncing this way and that as they hit metal pegs. You get money or tokens back depending on where the balls fall.) Anyway, mine was a toy, obviously. It was much smaller than a real one, but it was still nearly half my size. Imagine one of those plastic toy pinball machines you would give a 6-year-old, and that is roughly what it would have been like. It was forest green, and on the face were pictures of big red ladybugs. My dad, who was in his early 30s at the time, ended up playing it more than me. I would stand next to him and watch him play it, mesmerized, for hours.
Someday, I'll learn to speak Japanese. I want to go back to Japan and speak Japanese to some of my relatives. It's one of the things I will do before my time's up.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 11:22 PM EST [Link]
Wednesday, January 15, 2003
Feeling inadequate
My podmate, who does basically the same thing I do on the days I'm not here ("never the two shall meet..."), and despite having a heavier-than-normal load, typeset his pages well before deadline tonight. How does he do it? I think I may be just that slow.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 11:50 PM EST [Link]
Long flights just got less painful
Passengers of Lufthansa traveling from Frankfurt to Washington can use a new service starting today: wireless Internet above the clouds. For a three-month testing period, the airline will hand out notebooks to travelers during the flight for free. If the service is successful, Lufthansa has announced that it will offer broadband Internet access on 80 long-distance routes. The fee will probably be 30 Euro per flight.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 11:06 PM EST [Link]
Trust me on this
From the BBC:
US leaders 'among world's least trusted'
US leaders are among the least trusted in the world, a survey identifying growing disquiet in global affairs has revealed. Only a quarter of 15,000 citizens polled place faith in US chiefs, compared with 42% who trusted UN leaders. Heads of charities and other non-governmental organisations (NGOs) were the most trusted. And just one-in-five Argentines, and one-in-seven Germans and Italians, believes the world is becoming a better place. The findings were revealed in a survey commissioned by the World Economic Forum (WEF) ahead of its annual summit, which starts next week.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 05:07 PM EST [Link]
Clueless
Am I the only one who had never heard of a satsuma until just recently?
I also just found out that it's a Japanese word.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 12:04 AM EST [Link]
Tuesday, January 14, 2003
Migrating to the southern hemisphere for the winter
Why oh why does it have to stay so cold?
I can't believe I'm saying that. I have always loved the cold. I would take the cold over sweaty, sticky, miserably hot any day. I hate feeling my shirt stick to my back an hour after I've taken a shower. I hate worrying whether my makeup is melting off my face. I hate getting into my car and not being able to breathe or touch the steering wheel. When its cold, you can just put on more clothes. And nice, woolly, preppy clothes, too.
Now, I want it to be warm, dammit. Not too much, but at least creep back up to the 60s in the early mornings. We've been rowing only once a week lately because none of us can bare to step into the lake -- we have to step in knee-high to put the boat in the water, since we don't have a dock -- which feels like you're standing in ice water. I imagine my legs being surrounded by thousands of little ice cubes.
And I can't get out of bed when it's cold; mainly, to get anything done around the house or do a rowing machine workout in lieu of being on the water. I mean, I cannot get out from under the covers. I'm getting frustrated by my lack of workouts, and I think when it gets warmer, my life will be back to normal (whatever that means).
But when will that be?
Posted by Lynniechan @ 07:03 PM EST [Link]
Monday, January 13, 2003
From The Guardian
It is more than 30 years ago now, though it seems like yesterday. A Republican president, much derided by liberals, was in the White House and his opponents were being lashed by the rightwing attack dogs, led then by the vice-president, Spiro Agnew.
The elite East Coast press, exemplified by the New York Times and the Washington Post, were the special targets of his scorn: "pointy-headed liberals," he called them, and "the nattering nabobs of negativism".
But the press laughed last and longest. Agnew resigned in disgrace, to be followed by his president, Richard Nixon - forced out by the investigations of two Post reporters, Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward, whose doggedness revealed Nixon's role in covering up the Watergate break-in and sundry other crimes. It remains one of the greatest - maybe the greatest - moment in the history of American journalism.
Now there is a new Republican president, elected even more controversially and pursuing a far more divisive agenda. Where are the pointy-head liberals now? The change can be summed up in Woodward's own career. As the Watergate investigator, he not merely protected his sources, he glamorised them. Now, still on the Post staff, he functions as a semi-official court stenographer to the Bush White House. And it is notable that those who talk to him - such as the president himself - always play the heroic role in his stories.
The worldwide turmoil caused by President Bush's policies goes not exactly unreported, but entirely de-emphasised. Guardian writers are inundated by emails from Americans asking plaintively why their own papers never print what is in these columns (in my experience, these go hand-in-hand with an equal number insulting us for the same reason). In the American press, day after day, the White House controls the agenda. The supposedly liberal American press has become a dog that never bites, hardly barks but really loves rolling over and having its tummy tickled.
[MORE]
Posted by Lynniechan @ 04:59 PM EST [Link]
Get the splash guard
A chain-smoking co-worker's loud hacks keep echoing throughout the hushed newsroom. It's so disgustingly foul, but she's such a character that several of us snicker every time she does it.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 12:53 AM EST [Link]
Sunday, January 12, 2003
Blue Spring
I apologize for the gap in posts. I had a pretty busy weekend, highlighted by a trip to Blue Spring State Park. Stephen arranged for a two-hour boat tour down the St. Johns as part of a belated birthday gift. The tour was scheduled to start at 10 a.m. sharp, but we got there right at 10 and had to run to catch the boat, which was being untied from the dock. (As it turned out, the boat was tied to the dock at both the stern and bow, unbeknown to the captain, so we would have had another five minutes anyway while she and her attendant figured that out.) It was bitter cold and breezy Saturday morning but otherwise sunny and beautiful. The captain was incredibly knowledgeable about the wildlife we saw and had an amazing eye for any little camouflaged bird or creature hiding in the grass and trees. I love learning about wildlife. If I could just take ecotours as a career, I'd love my job. About halfway into the tour, we crossed out of the official boundary of the state park and into the city of DeLand (or was it DeBary?), even though we were still in the marsh. There were a few houses along the shoreline, and one shanty was actually floating on the water among the cypress trees. The property next to the shanty was for sale; the "for sale" sign was nailed to a cypress tree. Stephen and I discussed why someone would want to buy that. Would you live there? Or would you keep it for your own personal fish camp? I actually thought it might be cool in a way to live there, though the critters during the summer would probably drive me mad. But it got me picturing myself in bibbed overalls and straw hat, sitting on my front porch holding a cane pole as a raccoon sits beside me. It's a dream of mine to live in a remote, quiet, natural area (thus my strange fascination with the South Pacific) -- with a broadband Internet connection, of course.
Anyway, the highlight of my trip was getting to see manatees. I had never seen them there before but I knew they stayed at Blue Spring during the winter to stay warm. (I had been to Blue Spring once before to go canoeing and toobin' -- during the summer, when people can swim there, bring their coolers, families of 10, oy -- but that's another story.) The manatees were awesome. I ran up and down the boardwalk like a kid in a candy store trying to see them all. There was a sign on the boardwalk naming some of the regular winter visitors, along with their identifying scars. We identified Dana, who had a little pair of twins following her, and Flash, who had a line of horizontal scars along his back, like railroad tracks.
I took a ton of photos, which I'll put here when I get some time to upload them.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 04:34 PM EST [Link]
Shop zone
GOOD: I bought a few pairs of underwear yesterday, a size smaller than my old size. The new underwear are still too big.
BAD: I bought a couple of bras yesterday, a size smaller than my old size. They fit fine.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 03:45 PM EST [Link]
Thursday, January 9, 2003
Encouraged
I'm glad I waited another night before doing something rash about my job. Patience appears to have paid, at least on paper. I had a couple of talks with my bosses the very day after I felt discouraged about my career, and a plan has been proposed and put in motion (not necessarily because of me, but in light of the aforementioned staff shuffle), one that better defines responsibilities and included adjusting schedules.
The plan has me working four 10-hour days. At another point in my career, I might have started cabbage-patching at that prospect. Now, I'm ambivalent. On one hand, dude, it's three days off a week. On the other hand, it seriously puts a crimp on doing anything other than work on the four days that I do work -- mainly, rowing.
See, the way I figure it, Tuesdays are going to be brutal. I'm going to get home from work at around 1 a.m. Monday night/Tuesday morning -- presumably, if I'm not caught up doing something late at work or otherwise held up by some problem. Then I'm going to sleep until 4:15 a.m., at which time I must get up to make it to rowing practice on time. Then, I'm home around 7, back in bed by 8, and will get to sleep until no later than 12:30 p.m. so I can get ready for work Tuesday afternoon. So that's sleep for three hours, row/travel/shower for three-ish hours, then grab another four hours of shuteye before work.
I'm sure I'll get used to it. My schedule is not that different now on mornings I row; I just get to sleep in a little later in the afternoon.
So why don't I just not row on Tuesdays? Well, if you're a member of a rowing team, which I am -- it may be a hack club team, but it's still a team with a solid lineup -- you can't just show up for two practices out of three each week. That would be like a softball team having 10 players, but the first baseman can only play every other week. If you're one of the other nine players, you'd want that dude replaced with someone who can be there every time. Anyway, despite my constant griping and grumbling about it, I love rowing and don't want to give it up. I'll make this new schedule work somehow. I have to.
When asked how I felt about working the new schedule, I shrugged and said, "It's fine." I wish I could have been more excited about it. But all I thought was, "How on Earth am I going to make it through Tuesday? How will Stephen feel about me being completely useless half the week?" (OK, so there's not much change there, ugh.) Despite all the jitters, I do feel better regarding my job situation. I'm sure the jitters are just a natural fear of change, regardless of whether that change is for the better. I hope it is.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 10:01 AM EST [Link]
Helpless and pathetic
I hadn't boiled an egg in so long, I had to look up how long to cook it. But you know what? It came out perfect.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 08:50 AM EST [Link]
Wednesday, January 8, 2003
H8 her
ASSOCIATED PRESS -- Ground control to Avril Lavigne: It's David Bowie, like "doughy" -- not Bowie, like "Howie." That's how the 18-year-old Canadian singer pronounced the veteran rock star's name when the Grammy nominations were announced. "Oops! I knew that was going to happen," she said later.
I had just discussed with Stephen and a couple of friends earlier tonight how much Avril Lavigne annoys me.
Despite her "punk" persona, that little poser admits not knowing who the Sex Pistols are in an Entertainment Weekly interview. And she said she bought a Ramones CD to "know what everyone's talking about." (Oops. I mistakenly said during my discussion earlier that it was The Clash she did not know.)
Oh well, there are a ton of Avril-bashing sites out there. No need for one more.
But boi, does she grate on my nerves.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 04:28 AM EST [Link]
Tuesday, January 7, 2003
Random pet peeve No. 1
I hate the phrase "tax relief." It's such a Republican spin-doctor euphemism.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 10:35 PM EST [Link]
Humpty dumpty
I didn't realize that Tupac Shakur was once a member of the Digital Underground.
I'm so white.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 01:20 AM EST [Link]
Monday, January 6, 2003
Ugh
I'm not feeling so hot. Stomach turning, gurgling. I'm lactose-intolerant, but I drink milk anyway in small doses 'cause I like it and it's a good source of protein. That last glass I drank must not have been a small dose. Oy. Going to lie down now.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 10:41 PM EST [Link]
Weight watcher
I've joined a Live Journal group who are trying to eat healthier and lose weight. Some are co-workers, others are friends or online-only friends who live out of town. I've fallen off the wagon since the holidays -- not taking very good care of myself, not working out as much and generally eating like crap. (I've also had a chest cold, which has put a damper on doing intense cardio.) I'm hoping that putting my daily intake online will shame myself into eating better. I'm also concerned that I haven't had the chance to make it to the gym as often as I had before the holidays. Hopefully by February, my old, jock self will be back. I'm one that too easily slips back into old, bad habits.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 10:31 PM EST [Link]
Discouraged
I'm struggling not to do something very rash re: my job. It's hard. A small staff shuffle happened recently that made it clear to me that being a hard-working, reliable, quiet Doozer doesn't pay. I can take one path now and possibly regret it in the long term, but it will make me feel better in the short term. Or I can sit quietly and wait for better times or a better opportunity, not knowing if or when those better times will come. But the long-term outlook is more optimistic. I keep having to stress to myself to sleep on it one more night.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 02:50 PM EST [Link]
Sunday, January 5, 2003
Busy work
It's been fairly slow at work lately, and I don't like it one bit. It's not so much that I'm bored; I can always find something to keep me busy. I just know it's the calm before the storm. It's that feeling that a senseless, politics-driven war is going to break out at a moment's notice, and we're just filling the paper with this and that while we wait. When the war does happen, it will be very busy here. But it will be busy for all the wrong reasons.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 06:19 PM EST [Link]
Saturday, January 4, 2003
The Conquered Arms
I was trying to recall yesterday how old my lovebird, Urza, is. I am horrible with dates and times. I have to put things into context of events in order to remember when things happened. Thinking of Urza brought back memories of my old apartment on Concord Avenue. What a place it was.
It was walking distance from work, but because of the weird hours I keep, I rarely walked. The building was an old, historic-district house that had been converted into four 1/1s. My apartment had a dingy, worn, gray carpet that never looked clean no matter how many times it was vacuumed or steam cleaned. There was a single, cheap air-conditioning unit in a window in the bedroom, and even chugging along at full power couldn't keep the place cool in the summer. I bought floor fans to blow some of the "cooler" air into the living room, but the place still was a furnace in the summer. There were many nights (or mornings) that I lay motionless and sprawled out on the bed with a fan blowing directly on me as I struggled to sleep. The kitchen was quaint, with a big, metal sink and a small, white, old-fashioned stove with an oven that never completely closed. I look back and wonder why I endured it. But the rent at the time -- $415 -- was dirt cheap, and I lived downtown.
I had had a roommate in the apartment previous to this one, but this place was the first time I truly considered myself living on my own. I have so many memories of it, good and bad: Tooling around at 4 a.m. with my trusty ol' beige Mac G3 (which I still had up until a few months ago), listening to nothing but the roar of the A/C unit, which was right above the computer. ... An old friend confiding in me about the love of her life as we sat on the steps leading up to the back porch, sipping beers as the sun went down. ... Other friends coming over weekly to sit on the dingy floor to play Magic: The Gathering. ... The shock and sadness I felt when I found my first rabbit, Mattie -- a large, furry, gray lop-eared bunny -- dead in the kitchen. What a sweetie she was. ... I adopted my second cat, Nekkochan -- a variation of nekochan (neh-koh-chan), which means "little kitty" in Japanese -- while I lived there. She was a friendly, beat-up calico who would wait on the back porch steps every night for a handout. It didn't take long for me to break down and take her in. I suspected she was old, and she was clearly not in the best of health when I found her. Her hip was dislocated, she walked with a limp and her tail was dead. The vet I took her to said her injuries were old; she had healed that way and she was not in pain. But she was a scrappy little thing and loved people. She passed away while I lived there. ... Coming home to find my aforementioned ex-roommate passed out on the kitchen floor and finding out later at a hospital that she had ODed on GHB (she had temporarily moved in while she looked for another place to live). That was no fun. I haven't seen her since. ... Decorating the windows with Christmas lights for the first time. ... Having a blast racing around one summer touring all the theme parks with another friend before he had to move away. He was the one who named the place the "Conquered Arms," after a small, cast-iron sign that hung in the front yard that said "Concord Arms." ...
My ex-boyfriend gave me Urza as a gift while I lived there. That must have been around 1994-95.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 05:04 PM EST [Link]
Friday, January 3, 2003
Another sign of the apocalypse
LOS ANGELES (Reuters) -- Jack Ass says "Jackass" has given him a bad name.
A Montana man who legally changed his name to "Jack Ass" in 1997 has sued media giant Viacom Inc., claiming its stunt-heavy, gross-out TV show and movie "Jackass" had defamed his character.
In a suit filed in November in Montana and posted this week on a legal Web site, Jack Ass, who said he changed his name to raise awareness about the dangers of drunk driving, claimed Viacom was "liable for injury to my reputation that I have built and defamation of my character which I have worked so hard to create."
The suit asks for damages of $10 million or more. Jack Ass is representing himself.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 12:26 AM EST [Link]
Sign of the apocalypse
Rap, Country Dominate Year of Slumping Music Sales
Posted by Lynniechan @ 12:19 AM EST [Link]
Thursday, January 2, 2003
Grumpy
This morning was our second rowing practice since the holiday break. We've had two really good practices -- long, steady workouts -- considering we haven't all rowed as a group in at least two weeks. I really hate not having a coach, though. He's not supposed to be back from his break until Sunday. Having a coach keeps us focused and the practices intense. Our last two workouts without him have run like a rudderless ship (no pun intended). "So, what do you guys want to do?" the substitute coxswain says. "OK, er, um, that's done (insert two-minute convo about someone's kids here)... What next? Anyone have any ideas?" I was happy I got a good workout this morning, but I was (unsuccessfully) biting my lip half the time trying to keep the boat focused. And I don't want to reinforce bad habits and rowing technique because a coach isn't there to correct me.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 05:48 PM EST [Link]
Blah blah blah
My co-worker has done nothing but talk on the phone and cruise the Web since I got in. I am now being subjected to a conversation about Amazing Race. Earlier, he told the world about his rockin' new year's eve. Life is not fair, I know. But goddammit, do something ferchrissakes.
UPDATE: I just heard about his rockin' new year's eve again.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 05:03 PM EST [Link]
Welcome to 2003
So I had a great time at girlonthewire's new year's party last night, despite the rain. Actually, the rain provided a few good chuckles 'cause the gutter above her back door had partially collapsed, and several people ended up soaked trying to get in. But hey, there was free alcohol. Thanks, girl. Hope everyone had a wonderful new year's, and please keep in touch. ;)
Posted by Lynniechan @ 01:04 AM EST [Link]
SRO
AOL apparently is considering giving its users tools to create their own weblogs -- a move that undoubtedly would mean a big jump in the number of bloggers. ... In a Washington Post column last week wrapping up the year's top tech developments, the final item mentioned that AOL was "expected to launch its own weblogging tools" in 2003. A few weeks earlier, AOL's vice president of community products was quoted ... saying: "Weblogs, over the last several years, have migrated to replace, in some cases, people's home pages. It's natural that the blog and the home page would combine. And when you remember that AOL has the largest collection of home pages in the world, it kinda gets interesting."
Some people shouldn't be given the power to blog.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 12:48 AM EST [Link]
Vendalized
I just bought a "BIG GRAB" of Doritos from Chez Vendo, and it has, like, four chips in it. The bag is practically two-dimensional.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 12:29 AM EST [Link]
Wednesday, January 1, 2003
MIA
I'm missing my co-curmudgeon wrestling/e-mail animation buddy, P., at work today. There are so many things screaming out for ridicule right now and I can't handle it alone. And I could use a good laugh.
Posted by Lynniechan @ 07:28 PM EST [Link]