Everyone else has had more sex than me

Saga of the IRS: The plot thickens!

Fri, 18 Jul 2008 23:14:28 GMT

Post 1 | Post 2 | Post 3

Yesterday I got a letter from my bank with a copy of the tax check in it. First off, I did indeed make it out the US Treasury. Second, it was cashed on March 31st. Third, it was cashed in the correct town at... Bank of America? WTF? At this point BoA better hope that the IRS has an account with them or they are going to be explaining to Uncle Sam why they cashed a check made out to the US Treasury for someone else.

I should call the IRS tonight, but my brain is fried. It'll have to be Monday. Still at least now I have routing information from when the check was cashed (although I can't read the endorsement on the back because its a stamp and the copy I have is piss poor). I'm going to give that to the IRS and see what they have to say.

At this rate, I'll get my extra $30 back in about six months. -_-

o_O

Fri, 18 Jul 2008 13:18:53 GMT

Flowerpot's spontaneous combustion blamed for fire

I think that if the fire department told me a combusting flowerpot is why my house burnt down, I'd ask them what kind of crack they were on.

Gardening babble

Thu, 17 Jul 2008 23:35:40 GMT

Today I pruned the Cherokee purple tomato plant so it will hopefully produce more fruit. To be honest, I didn't realize I needed to prune it. I'm so use to growing determinate varieties (like my roma) that I didn't realize that the Cherokee purple was an indetermine variety that would benefit from pruning. Live and learn.

The roma is producing has about a dozen or so tomatoes on it right now. The first batch of four should be ready in another week or so. The others will ripen over the next month. I haven't lost a single fruit to blossom end rot, which is caused by calcium deficiency . Last year, I lost about half my crop to it. I managed this by finally finding tomato specific fertilizer which was actually tomato specific. You'd be amazed at the number of fertilizers promoted as being "for tomatoes" that have excessive amounts of nitrogen and little calcium. Never mind that calcium deficiency is one of the bigger problems with tomato plants.

I've got four tomatoes on the Cherokee purple. It's probably not going to produce as much fruit as the roma, but it'll produce fruit much longer than the roma. Maybe. Summers are shorter here in Indiana than in North Carolina. My roma was producing tomatoes up till the first frost last year. Then again, I also started it late. This year I started it early indoors. We'll see how that works out.

I'm going to record how much each plant produces in the lovely gardening diary miome gave me. Then I can decide next year whether to grow both kinds again or stick to one.

I'm so looking forward to my first harvest!

Ranty McRanty pants

Thu, 17 Jul 2008 17:21:54 GMT

Okay boys and girls, gather round. We're going to have an impromptu lesson about street addresses in the United States. Do you know what the components of a street address? Let me show you.

1313                  Mockingbird Lane
^                        ^
House number    Street Name

Now I want you to focus on those numbers at the beginning of that address. Do you see that? That is what's called a house number. You don't need to actually be a house to have one. Businesses, parks, hell even empty lots all have one. The second part is the street name.

Why is this so important? Because if you don't give the house number it is impossible to find the damn location of a place with GIS. Do you realize how many damn green areas that may or may not be parks you can have along a street? I'll tell you how many. FUCKING LOTS. HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO FIGURE OUT WHICH PATCH OF TREES IN YOUR TOWN PWECIOUS CENTENNIAL PARK IF YOU DO NOT GIVE ME A FUCKING CORRECT STREET ADDRESS?!?!

I feel better now.

Sam and Dean in Indiana?

Wed, 16 Jul 2008 14:30:36 GMT

miome and I were at the hospital cafeteria for lunch a couple weeks ago. We had just sat down at a table when the intercom system came on.

"Would the owners of the black Impala parked in front of the hospital please move your vehicle? You are blocking an entrance. Would the owners of a black Impala please move your vehicle. You are blocking the entrance."

Cue us cracking up.

The Guessing Game

Tue, 15 Jul 2008 01:11:02 GMT

miome and I have a lot of books. I mean, a lot of books. I'm currently in the middle of doing an inventory of the books we have in the apartment for insurance purposes. I've done two 1/2 bookcases and already we have 143 books. I haven't done half the books in my room, none in miome's room (which includes a floor to ceiling bookcase and boxes under her bed), and we still have about a bookcase of books and a bookcase of manga left (I'm counting manga as books since they have a ISBN) in the living room.

So here's a contest: how many books do we actually have? Miome guesses 500. I'm guessing 750. I'll takes guesses from people and when I'm done with the inventory, the closest guess gets a story of their choice.

Anyone want to take a bet?

Kitties are displeased

Sun, 13 Jul 2008 17:09:38 GMT

One of the things about our cats is they suffer from an excess of ear wax. It builds up really bad in their ears, makes them really cruddy looking, and irritates the cats, especially Nadia, who spends a large amount of time scratching and messing with her ears.

This isn't good because excessive scratching can cause blood vessels to burst in the ear at which point the ear blows up to three times it's normal size because of the blood pooling in it (I believe the technical term is hematoma). You then wind up taking the cat to the vet to get it drained, at which point their ear crumples and stays crumpled. I've had this happen with two cats who suffered from continual ear mite problems.

Our previous vet suggested cleaning their ears twice a week with mineral oil on a cotton ball. As you can imagine, the cats loved this. Not. I eventually stopped because it didn't seem to be stopping the build-up at all, the cats messed with their ears even more afterwards, and the whole procedure stressed the kitties out. When we went to the new vet a few weeks ago, I mentioned the problem. She prescribed a cleaning solution that would soften the wax, wouldn't be as greasy as the mineral oil, and would get farther into the ears where there was a problem.

I've been using that for the last couple of weeks and it is so much easier. I still have to wipe the ears out with a cotton ball, which the cats hate, but I can tell this irritates them less. Instead of bolting and hiding for an hour, both cats with trot about 4 feet away from me, sit down, and start grooming themselves. Heck, they'll even let me approach them and pet them afterwards. They don't mess with their ears nearly as much and it's much easier to catch them to do this.

Doesn't make them any happier about the whole thing. I am a terrible person for putting stuff in their ears and they let me know it.

Wanted: black kitten and spiderman mask

Sun, 13 Jul 2008 12:57:19 GMT

velithya is writing a truly hilarious fic involving Tony Stark be transformed into a kitten over on the Captain America/Ironman community (part 1 |part 2 |part 3 |part 4). There's only one more part left.

I now really, really want a small black kitten and a spiderman mask so I can take a picture and make a cat macro just like the one in the story.

I'm glad I'm at home

Fri, 11 Jul 2008 17:37:23 GMT

They've started shutting buildings down on campus due to excessive heat and the lack of air conditioning. At this point they don't even had an estimated time of when they'll restore service. I am really glad I'm at home with my working AC and my kitties.

Also, I've had three emails from my internship asking me about a variety of issues. Sigh. Why is it always on Friday they decide to play with these files as opposed to Thursday when I'm actually on site and can answer their questions in person?

The childbirth song

Fri, 11 Jul 2008 13:54:19 GMT

Every time I listen to this I crack up. It's the Childbirth Song. NSFW because of minor language.

Favorite line? When you can poo a watermelon, I'll agree.

Fri, 11 Jul 2008 11:13:06 GMT

AC is still out on campus, meaning miome and I are staying home today because she said yesterday was miserable.

I got dressed for nothing. -_-

Kind of glad for that commute

Thu, 10 Jul 2008 22:49:41 GMT

Today is one of the days I drive one & a half hours to my internship. It's not great, but it's doable. I was rather glad to make the drive today because some idiots were doing construction and accidentally hit the chilled water pipe that feeds all of campus. What this boils down to is there was no AC on campus all day long in the middle of summer.

From what I understand, it was sweltering in the buildings.

Also, there's been a slight glitch in my summer research. Seems that the DNR has decided to foist the collection of the plants off onto a graduate student. Meaning that if I want to go out and see for myself what's going on in some of the satellite photos, I have to coordinate with him. Add to this that my internship is making noises about me going up to Northern Indiana to help with getting data for their project, and the last half of summer just got busier. Sigh. I can't believe school start on August 20th.

At least this means that I get to play with one of the departments very nice GPS units. Technology is shiiiiiny.

DAMMIT!

Wed, 09 Jul 2008 19:05:10 GMT

THIS SERVER GOES DOWN MORE OFTEN THAN A TWO-DOLLAR WHORE.

Harem fragment, scene from hell

Wed, 09 Jul 2008 01:24:41 GMT

Because I like sharing and will gladly accept any and all suggestions on this. Specifically, what questions would the Emperor ask in this situation that I'm forgetting? Is the dialogue too awkward? Can you tell who is speaking or does it get confusing at points? Thank you in advance.

They'd bound his hands behind him and thrown him face down on the carpet. It was a nice carpet. It was thick and Talid thought it might have some interesting design woven into it in shades of red and gold, blue and green. It was hard to tell when it was less than half an inch in front of his eyes. But that wasn't the problem. The problem was that he couldn't see the people around him who were in the process of deciding what to do with him.

That was bad. Talid always tried to use people's emotions to his advantage, but it required actually being able to see those emotions. He could read people's voices, but actions spoke louder than words. He'd tried to look up once only to get a kick in ribs and his head shoved down.

At least his knees didn't hurt. This really was a nice carpet.

"My deepest apologies, my Emperor." That was from the head of the palace guards, a man who Talid had seen a grand total of once and who he couldn't remember the name of if his life depended on it. At least he thought it was the head of the palace guards. It made sense that he would be the one taking responsibility. "I have no idea how this mongrel got into the palace in the first place."

Talid could have told them exactly how he got into the palace if anyone bothered to ask. He would have told them that he had been escorted by the palace guards into the palace. In fact, he'd been escorted straight to the palace harem by said guards. Granted, they'd thought he was Basir, but that was beside the point.

No one asked though. In fact, no one took any notice of him at all. It was annoying. They were only deciding his entire fate, whether he lived or died. Talid was pretty sure he should have sort of input into the decision. The head of the guards was still apologizing. Talid thought it would be more effective if the guy instead started suggesting ways to make sure it didn't happen again.

"Don’t you hate it when people talk about you like your not even there," Talid told the carpet conversationally.

There was a muffled snort, then laughter that was quickly turned into coughing. He would absolutely love to know who had heard him, but wasn't going to raise his head to find out. It was good enough to know that someone was listening.

"What is your name?" The voice was soft, the pitch somewhere in the tenor range. Talid debated for a half second then decided that if someone was taking an actual interest in him he might as well answer.

"Talid," he replied. He could almost hear the next question, because everyone had asked him it since he'd come to this stupid city. "No last name. My mom wouldn't say who the father was and her family refused to lend me theirs."

"You have family in the city?"

"No. I have family in the southern desert." To give more information or remain quiet? Talid decided sympathy never hurt. "My mother died when I was young and I stayed with her brother and his family until I was brought here. I haven't contacted them since."

Talid was surprised to find that he missed his Uncle's family. He and his uncle had never saw eye to eye, but at least he was a familiar face. Homesickness so strong it hurt threatened to take his voice. Talid swallowed hard, forced it back down. Now was not the time. Later, if he was still alive, he could be homesick.

"Brought?" At least whoever the voice belonged to could pick out the important parts of his story. Talid could appreciate that. The captain of the guard had finally stopped apologizing and had moved on to talking about replacing the guards on duty. He didn't seem to be aware that a whole other conversation was going on.

Which made Talid suspicious. Just who was he talking to? Who would dare talk to him while the head of the guards was talking to the Emperor?

"Kidnapped. I didn't come to this place because I wanted to." Talid hesitated, trying to figure out if telling him why he'd been kidnapped would get him in more trouble or get him out of trouble. It would really, really help if he could see who exactly he was speaking to and their reactions to his words. Then he could judge what he should say and what he should hide. "So what do you think my chances are of getting out of this alive and with all of my body parts?"

"Depends on your answers." Well. That was as noncommittal an answer if Talid had ever heard one. "Why were you kidnapped?"

"Because in case you didn't notice, I kind of look like the Emperor's favorite boy toy." Silence. Talid winced. Wrong thing to say obviously. "I wasn't cooperating with them."

"Elsem." It was the same voice that had addressed him, only now it carried enough authority in it to halt the head of the palace guard's words. Talid suddenly had a very, very bad feeling. "Help him to his feet. I want to talk with him."

Shit. Shit. Shit. Talid started saying prayers to any of the spirits of the desert that were listening that he had not just mouthed off to the Emperor himself. Elsem grabbed him by his bound arms and pulled him upwards. Elsem was a lot gentler than Talid thought he'd be. He waited almost patiently for Talid to get his feet up under him.

When he'd been dragged into the audience chamber, Talid really hadn't had a chance to get a good look at it. Just an impression of high ceilings, thick carpets on the floor, arched columns and expensive inlay. Now he could see all the details: the dark ornately carved wooden throne, the richly embroidered baldachin above it, the silver and gilt patterns on the wall, the exotic porcelain vases that stood as tall as at each corner of the room.

"You really do look just like Basir," the Emperor said. Talid made a mental note to say something very nasty to the spirits of the desert about their granting of prayers if he got out of this situation
.
Even though Talid had seen the Emperor from a distance while he was hiding in the harem, he was still surprised out how... not Emperor-like Tureq looked. His hair was much lighter than most of his countrymen, almost the color of wheat, which was the product of exotic foreigners in the previous Emperors' harems. His eyes were a nice, typical brown though. Talid just wished they weren't studying him the way a hawk might study a rabbit.

"I know." He did know. Personally, Talid found it kind of creepy.

"I thought he was Basir until Calene said something. She noticed that he didn't act like Basir," Elsem said. His fingers were wrapped his arm, holding Talid but not hurting him. Which was nice. He didn't need anymore bruises. "He even has Basir's accent."

In reality, Talid's natural accent was distinctly from the southern desert. His captors had drilled into him how to speak with Basir's accent to the point that Talid did it automatically. Not that he was going to volunteer that information. He wasn't sure if it would work in his favor or not.

"Who were your kidnappers?" the Emperor asked. Talid took a deep breath. This might get ugly.

"I don't know."

"It will do you no good to protect them," Elsem snapped. His fingers tightened on his arm. Talid would have kicked the harem guard if he could.

"I'm not protecting them. I don't know," he ground out. Then at both the Emperor Tureq's and Elsem's disbelieving look, "Trust me, if I thought it would keep me alive I'd hand you their heads on a silver platter, but I don't even know what they looked like let alone who they were."

"If you were kidnapped, where were you held?" It was obvious that Emperor Tureq was use to be answered from his tone of voice.

"I don't know." Talid wasn't sure he could find the building again. He'd barely escaped; running on adrenaline and the knowledge that he would much rather die than be a part of his captors plan any longer. "It was a building but I'm not sure where in the city."

"How did you escape?"

"Through a window. I managed to break the screen open and jumped."

"How did you get into the palace?"

"The guards let me in," Talid replied.

"I find that hard to believe." That came from Elsem. "Did they just let you into the harem as well?"

Talid didn't like what Elsem was suggesting. "They thought I was Basir."

"None of this is helping your case any," Emperor Tureq said. He was leaning forward, staring at Talid like he could divine the truth of his words.

"Yeah, but it's the truth," Talid replied. "I could make stuff up but that wouldn't help anyone." Least of all himself. He could fabricate with the best of them, but trying to keep details straight was never his strong suite.

"He's not lying."

Emperor Tureq leaned back suddenly. From his place beside the throne, half hidden in shadows stepped another member of the harem, Navid. He was the studious one, if Talid remembered right, with dark hair and eyes the color of grass. He was always off in the library or reading or writing. Today he was obviously standing right next to the throne eavesdropping.

"How do you know?" Talid recognized that voice as well. Calene was in the room as well, though out of Talid's sight. He'd be willing to bet Kharleh was here as well. Great. The only one missing was Basir.

"Basir has been teaching me a few things," Navid replied. He smiled ruefully at the Emperor, and Turiq smiled back with genuine affection. "I'm not as good as he is. I probably never will be."

"Better than any of us," the Emperor replied. Then he turned back to Talid. "You said that he's telling the truth?"

"I didn't say that. I said that he wasn't lying. There might be things he's keeping from us, but what he said has the ring of truth to it. He doesn't know who kidnapped him, he never saw their faces, he doesn't think he could find the building again, and he believes that the guards did let him into the palace because they thought he was Basir." Navid gave Emperor Turiq a measured look. "Just because he believes it to be so, doesn't make it the truth."

The Emperor Turiq nodded. "You said you were brought to the palace by guards. Did the same guards escort you to the harem?"

"Um..." Talid frowned, reaching back in his mind. He'd been in the harem over a month, maybe two. His memories had blended together in that time. "Yes. The same guards found me, took me into the palace, and took me to the harem."

"How long ago was this?" Elsem asked. Talid knew they were not going to like the answer. Normally he'd try and lie, but Navid would know and he'd lose what little credibility he'd managed to gain.

"Maybe two months ago." Behind him someone gasped. The Emperor looked shocked. Elsem's fingers had loosened on his arm. Now they tightened hard enough to bruise. Tight enough for Talid to snap, "That hurts."

"Captain Suhail, I want you to question all the guards who have access to harem. There shouldn't be many. Don't tell them why. The fewer people who know, the better." The Emperor looked grim and Talid couldn't blame him. He'd known staying in the harem had been a bad idea, but there hadn't been any where else for him to go. Not in a city where people who would and could do anything to infiltrate the palace were looking for him.

"Yes, my Emperor."

Motivation = dead

Tue, 08 Jul 2008 23:59:04 GMT

Somebody poke me on AIM until I write something. Anything. I'll take suggestions.

Saga of the IRS

Tue, 08 Jul 2008 11:58:43 GMT

Update from last night that I didn't make because after getting off the phone, I went to bed.

After 45 minutes on hold (talk about underestimating your wait time), I finally got to talk to someone at the IRS. The very nice lady listened to my explanation and then decided that she needed to bring up my account and see if she could find the payment in it. That's fine. So she puts me on hold as the account comes up.

Next is the verifying game. Now, I'm all for them making sure I am who I say I am before spouting off tax information. But holy rusted metal Batman, this was ridiculous. First I had to give my social security number. Then my first name. Then my last. Then I had to confirm what my middle initial was. Then I had to give them my complete mailing address. Then I had to give them the amount of taxes I paid for 2007 rounded to the nearest dollar. Once they confirmed that I was who I said I was they asked me how much was the payment I made last year on my taxes that they billed me twice for. Uh... see previous answer.

Using all that information, the lady searched my account. Nothing. So then I got my checkbook out and she searched on the bank's routing number. Zip. Nothing the IRS can do unless they can get some of the information on the back of the check, which for some reason was not scanned in and is not displayed on my account at my bank. Hopefully, my bank has a copy of the back of the check which will have tracking information on it from when the IRS cashed it.

I'd already called my bank and they are sending me a copy of the information about the check. When that gets here, I get to call the IRS again and see if they can use that information to track the check. At least now there's a note on my account that I'm disputing the bill and why.
Personally, I think my check probably got applied to someone else's account instead of mine. It's the only thing that makes sense.

Then again this is the IRS. Anything could happen.

Anyone want to start taking bets that this causes me to get audited next year?

Bureaucracy sucks

Mon, 07 Jul 2008 23:02:22 GMT

I am beginning to loathe the IRS.

After waiting for months I finally got my "economic stimulus check." The problem? They took out the taxes that I supposedly owe them. The taxes I paid with a check that was cashed on March 31st. So I find the number on the paperwork they sent me so I can call and get this straightened out. It should be pretty simple, right? I have documentation that clearly shows that the taxes were paid or at the very least, someone cashed the check made out to the United State Treasury (and if it wasn't the IRS, then someone is in deep, deep doo-doo and it ain't me). Call up the number, go through phone tree hell, get transferred, and then get told that due to unexpected high volume they could not take my call please call back at another time or tomorrow.

*click* Dial-tone.

THE IRS FUCKING HUNG UP ON ME.

And they wonder why their customer service score is in the toilet.

EDIT: On hold this time. 20 minute wait time. We shall see.

EDIT2: Passed the 20 minute make about 10 minutes ago. At least they're playing Tchaikovsky and Vivaldi for their hold music. Though if I have to Waltz of the Flowers one more time I might snap.

Writer angst

Mon, 07 Jul 2008 01:42:46 GMT

Why is this scene being such a pain in the butt to write?

Why do people ask so many questions when some random person crashes their harem for two months?

Why does my cat insist on walking across my boobs in order to get my attention, thereby blocking my computer screen?

INQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW.

Vampires... IN SPACE

Sun, 06 Jul 2008 01:44:12 GMT

Well, this story seems to have settled into some sort of semblance of plot. Or at least I've got more written on it than any of the other 6-7 times I've attempted to use this idea. Still not much. I just wanted to see if what people think about it.

Marcus was in the locker room, towel wrapped around his waist and another across his shoulders, when the Vamps burst in. His first reaction was to reach for laser scoped blaster he hadn't worn since his army days. The Vamps must have recognized the motion. Suddenly three guns were pointed at him. Very slowly he raised his arms above his head.

"Right, right. I get it. I made a sudden move, and now you're not happy," Marcus said in a low, even voice. Vamps had sensitive hearing and didn't particularly like loud noises. He heard a few shouts come from the showers and figured some of the others were cornered there.

Quick and efficient. Just like Marcus remembered them.

The tile was cold under his feet, and Marcus could see more Vamps coming through the door. More than nine. Somehow Marcus doubted that they were the only ones on the ship meaning that they'd been caught with their pants down. So to speak.

"Do you think I could put some clothes on?" The full body armor the Vamps wore made him particularly conscious of how close to naked being he was. The guns didn't move "I'll take that as a 'no' then."

"This is Captain Syton speaking." Marcus somehow managed to not flinch as the Captain's voice rang out over the intercom. At least two of the Vamps hissed - lips drawn back to expose sharp white fangs - though their guns never wavered. "We have been boarded by Draghust soldiers. Do not, and I repeat DO NOT attempt to resist. Go along with their commands as they do a search of the ship. Any one who starts something is going to be on garbage duty for a year."

The Captain's voice cut out with a crackle of static.

One of the Vamps, gestured to one side with his gun. Keeping his hands in the air Marcus walked in that direction. The Vamps stayed behind him and Marcus could feel the skin between his shoulder blades itch. He expected at any moment to be grabbed. If one of them touched him, he wasn't sure he could control his instincts. This was too much like a flashback. Only it was real.

He was half way down a row of lockers when a gun was shoved into his face. Sheer luck kept Marcus from walking right into it. He backed up a few steps. Three Vamps surrounded him once more.

The number of Vamps surprised him. The smallest unit of the Draghust army was composed of four or five Vamps. Since the Vamps didn't have a spoken language, the members of his squad had used their own word and called that unit a squad. There were only three Vamps working together, meaning that there was one missing.

As if summoned by his thoughts a fourth Vamp came around the corner. Its gun was still slung casually over its shoulder and stayed there even as it moved forward. Once it was about a foot from Marcus, it drew its lips all the way from its fangs and flexed razor sharp claws in front of his face. "Yeah, I get it. You're tough shit. I'm not going to do anything stupid."

The Vamp reached forward and Marcus tensed. He was essentially defenseless. No weapon. No protective gear. Hell, no clothing except for a towel around his waist. Hand to hand combat - which really wasn't his specialty - was useless against a Vamp. They were too strong and too quick.

It didn't attack though. Instead, it picked up the dogtags that hung around his neck with one claw. Everyone on the ship wore dogtags. Marcus's were a little different; produced by an Earth government that had been dismantled after the war as opposed to standard issue. There was no reason why the Vamps should be interested in them.

One claw carefully traced the letters of his name. Then it dropped the dogtags and stepped back. Marcus could feel the aluminum tags as they hit his chest. The Vamp then turned towards the lockers and began to look at the names listed on them.

It's looking for my locker. One of the other Vamps broke off to follow, leaving only two to watch him. Two was more than enough.

The sound of laser fire ricocheted off of the tile. Marcus flinched, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. There was the sound of struggle from farther in the locker room as others fought and were quickly subdued by the other Vamps. He could understand. It took everything in him not to fight.

There was nothing to fight about though. The Vamps hadn't shot anyone. Instead, they'd used their guns to blast the lock off of a locker. It squealed once as the electronics in it died, then swung open.

Annoyed am I

Sun, 06 Jul 2008 00:09:45 GMT

I just got a notice from the IRS telling me I have been assessed penalties because I didn't pay my taxes. The problem? I paid my taxes. In fact, I can see the damn check on my bank's site and it was cashed on March 31st. Of course, I have 10 days from the time of notice to pay this and thanks to the USPS I got it seven days after it was sent giving me three days to pay it. And of course, the IRS offices aren't open until Monday giving me one day to get this straightened out.

The only good thing about it is that I didn't owe the IRS all that much to begin with and so I have a grand total of $.83 in penalties. Still need to harass them and figure out what the Hell is going on.

Sat, 05 Jul 2008 13:07:47 GMT

HAPPY BIRTHDAY tygati!

Good times

Fri, 04 Jul 2008 13:49:41 GMT

Last night miome and I went on a cruise on Lake Michigan where we ate good food, listened to okay music, watched the Chicago fireworks over the lake from the cruise, and then watched drunk people attempt to dance on a rocking boat. Good times.

The most exciting part though was when our fairly large cruise boat (this thing had three enclosed decks that seated at least 50-60 people each and a fourth observation deck) was hit by a much smaller boat with two decks that could have held 20 people max. I sat hit by since at the time we were pretty much stationary or as stationary as a boat can get on choppy water. This was right after we'd almost gotten rammed by a sailboat that had somehow managed to avoid us. There were dozens on boats out on the water trying to watch the fireworks.

Smaller boat was one of them. The captain of the cruise ship blew the horn several times trying to warn smaller boat. Nope. Hit us. Of course, the captain of the smaller was severely displeased by this and started shouting a bunch of fairly foul names at us. This was heard by most of the passengers because we were all outside waiting for the fireworks to start. Most of us just laughed.

Well, captain of the smaller boat decides to reverse and get his boat off ours. In the process, he almost runs into another larger cruise boat. So what do a bunch of bored, mostly drunk adults do when they see this? Why they start shouting helpful hints!

"Watch out behind you!"
"Don't hit their boat like you hit ours!"
"Little bit more. Little bit more. Stop! You're close enough!"

Not good enough for the captain of the smaller boat. He manages to somehow hit our boat again. Well, the US Coast Guard ship didn't take to kindly to that. It came flying over, chewed the smaller vessel out, and made him take his vessel far away from ours. Then focused a spotlight on the vessel until they did. Then the Coast Guard boarded their vessel, probably to check to see if the captain had been partaking of some celebratory booze. We all laughed then moved to another deck to see the awesome fireworks.

As you can see, an exciting time. XD

Bleck

Thu, 03 Jul 2008 01:35:09 GMT

Whoever told us that the Museum of Science and Industry was good? Lied. I have never seen a museum so full of corporate sponsorship in my life. I don't mean "Hall of Goodyear" kind of sponsorship. I mean like the model train had John Deere tractors and cars on it, the Farm technology had two large John Deere tractors, and they listed John Deere prominently on other exhibits as a sponsor. They also had whole exhibits that were quite obviously designed just for a company. For example, a whole area about how great manufacturing and robotics with Allen Bradley's name all over it.

I've also never seen a museum more devoted to trying to get money from you. Besides the usual admission, "special exhibit" and Omni theater experience you also have places within the actual exhibits where if you wanted to participate in the exhibits you had to fork over money. It was ridiculous.

I much preferred going to the Robie House, to the Oriental Institute, and the Rockefeller Memorial Chapel.

EDIT: I did forget to mention the one good thing about the museum of Science and Industry. In the farm section, they had a station where you and a partner raced each other to see who could put a milker on a plastic cow's udders quicker. miome and I stopped to watch people make fools of themselves. It was hilarious to watch a woman in a short black dress and heels squat down to do this. XD

Tsaiko & Miome Theatre: Fireworks

Tue, 01 Jul 2008 19:01:39 GMT

Tsaiko: Oh hey. There are fireworks on both Thursday and Friday in Chicago.
Miome: Yes?
Tsaiko: That means we could go twice.
Miome: That's the privilege of being a girl. You get to see fireworks twice. XD
Tsaiko: O_o Perv.

Vacation: Day 1

Mon, 30 Jun 2008 23:28:11 GMT

The free trolleys in Chicago suck great big donkey dick.

My feet hurt.

My stomach needs to stop being a pain (or at least stop causing me pain).

The aquarium and Millennium Park are both awesome.

Also, the first day we were here was the day of the Chicago gay pride parade and we totally didn't know it. Oops?