Campfyre Stories

There’s this Vietnamese restaurant right around the corner from my house that I’ve been wanting to check out, but I didn’t want to go alone – at least not the first time, you know?  I knew that only one of my friends has a cast-iron stomach, and he’s my usual first choice for checking out new places.  Where I can always find ONE thing on the menu (and, in many cases, not more than that) that I can eat due to food allergies and (bad) vegetarianism, he’s generally hard pressed to find one thing he won’t eat.

Of course, he’s also the hardest person to pin down, in my experience.

But we made it to the restaurant last night and OMG was it ever worth the wait.  I first checked the Metroland Dining Guide, more to see what it was going to cost than anything else, but the blurb got me completely excited about dinner when it mentioned the Ginger Salmon dish.  You have to understand.  I LOVE salmon, and I love ginger and this just made me really look forward to this dinner.

I got there and to my great surprise, I could eat many of the things on the menu.  There was even a decent-sized vegetarian section – most of which does not contain the foods I’m allergic to!  It was then I knew I had found my new favorite restaurant and that I was going to have to come back to try more of the dishes that they offer.

Our waiter was excellent and attentive.  And, frankly, I don’t know how long we waited from the time we ordered until the food came – I hadn’t seen He of the Iron Stomach since right around when I moved into my apartment, so we had plenty of catching up to do, but when it did finally come the presentation was gorgeous.  There was a little superfluous garnish, but not to the extent of most restaurants.  It was nice to have a plate full of things to actually eat instead of the useless additions making it pretty.

The first bite of the Ginger Salmon made me not want to ever have any other taste in my mouth.  Ever.  For the rest of my life.  It was amazing and I just savored the flavor and let it melt in my mouth for a while.  It was really so good that I can’t do it justice with my words. 

I will certainly be going back there to try quite a few of the other dishes.  It’s my intention to bring out-of-town visitors and probably take Spawn out for a nice dinner there as well.  I obsessed about it for days before when I found out about the salmon.  Now that I’ve had it, I think I’ll obsess for a couple more

I was talking to one of my team members who is located in India.  I said "Howdy" to start off the conversation.  It’s something I do, not always, but whenever it strikes me.  I figured that if he didn’t understand he’d ask me…  no…  I figured he would understand.

Well, he didn’t ask, he got someone else on the team to IM me and ask "What is Howdy?  Is it How do you do?"  And, yes, etymologically speaking, it totally is "How do you do?"  with kind of a frontier flavor to it.  I actually explained it as being "with a cowboy flair" because I figured it was more likely they would readily understand cowboy than frontier.

It wasn’t until later that it struck me that I was attempting to speak "cowboy" to the Indians…

It was my entire immediate family minus Spawn.  It was quiet and drama-free (which I was concerned about).  Excellent traditional food.

I didn’t leave the house on Black Friday.  I used to work retail.  You can’t make me.

Child of Chaos spent Saturday with me – Spawn was home all weekend.  We got the computer set up, but since I’m never home I still haven’t dealt with the internet (and may wait another few weeks, I don’t know).  We also got posters and paintings and sculptures actually hung, finally.  It only took almost 2 months.

Yeah…  it was quiet and I didn’t really do anything.  There’s nothing else to say about it.

This is the most fabulous time-waster I think I’ve ever seen. 

Here is the link:  SpendaMillion.com

Here’s my list, but there are a lot of things that just aren’t available in this game.  I would do a whole lot more (and different things) than what they offer, but, hey, what are you going to do?  It’s a free virtual million, I’m not complaining.  Share yours and have fun with it

I was finishing my cigarette and putting it in the ashtray when this really short woman walked by me and said "You know, you’ll stunt your growth."

I’m 31 years old and 5’7 1/2.  How much growth is there, really, that’s going to stunt?

… let’s do another FOAD.

FOAD to retail salespeople who don’t have the time (or don’t care to put in the effort) to removing the security tags from clothing.  If it weren’t a gift for my father that you left the tag on, I probably wouldn’t have been quite so upset, but considering that YOUR inability to do your job fully caused the cuffs of the sleeves to RIP on his birthday gift, you get a big ol’ FOAD.

Don’t get me wrong, I know full well that retail is a thankless job.  I know you get paid peanuts and probably get treated like dirt by both the management and the customers, but consider this:  When you do a good job, you are more likely to get treated better, get pay raises and get promoted.  Doing a BAD job gets you one step closer to fired.  Had I realized BEFORE I left the store, I would have lodged an official complaint.  As it stands, all I can really do is wish you ill.

FOAD to all the people who deride people who VOTE.  I don’t care who you are, but I’ll be goddamned if I’m going to let someone who wasn’t even born or raised here tell me that I should "think very carefully about whether or not I’m going to leave work (on time) to go and VOTE.  FOAD, and by the way, if you don’t like the way we handle government, why not just go home while you’re at it?

FOAD to non-parents who assume, simply because they don’t have children of their own that children should NOT be a priority in the lives of their parents.  I don’t know or care WHY you don’t have children, but to assume that because you’ve not got a family that I’m going to sacrifice mine for a short-term contract that does NOT further my career is not only foolish, it’s out and out WRONG.  I firmly believe that parental issues (like Parent-Teacher conferences) should have the same rules applied to them as jury duty and/or voting.  You should legally be able to take (UNPAID) time off to handle matters pertaining to your own children.  You should never have to choose between your child’s well being and a steady paycheck.  Trust me, I know this from (recent) experience.

FOAD to the 18 year old who thinks he knows what’s best for everyone.  You are PROUD of the fact that you voted and I would give you props for that if you hadn’t followed it up with "I don’t even know who I voted for, but I voted."  No you didn’t.  You didn’t vote.  All you did was go into a voting booth and play with the levers.  Voting implies that you actually made a choice, but by your own admission you just played with the levers.  Stop being so lazy, stop being so full of yourself.  Stop and think and maybe, just maybe, you’ll learn the difference.

And finally, a great, big FOAD to everyone who thinks that their ample free time is more precious than my barely existent free time.  If you’re going to rely on me to make all of the effort and then get upset that I haven’t done it, you might first consider that I leave my house at 6am and get home (at best) around 6 or 7pm.  I have to take painkillers to sleep through the night, have a child, TRY to retain some semblance of a social life with those who put in any amount of effort.  I may not make calls very often anymore, but I certainly return them.  I didn’t call you and your feelings are hurt.  FOAD for getting petty about it without even making the slightest attempt.

BAH!

Hrm.  Stumbled across this posted on Digg today. 

Basically, it’s a social networking experiment and a meme-tracking device…  I guess.  It’s a game called Lost (no relation to the television show).

The game is based on a timer.  You have 7 days from the moment you join.  You join by finding an invitation, like the one given here: www.lost.eu/4c84  In order to reset the timer, you have to invite someone else to the game by giving them your personalized invitation code.

Points are awarded like a pyramid scheme.  I guess there are prizes, but I’m more interested in the experiment aspect of it.  Heh.

Yeah, we’re going to just go ahead and call this a meme.

Spawn and I headed out to do some grocery shopping for a small dinner party we had for the family this weekend.  It’s not a long bus ride, but because it was Saturday, the bus was pretty full.

I’ve noticed that a lot of times there are people on the bus who hand out those little credit card-sized pamphlets about how the Rapture is drawing near and if you want to go to Heaven, you need to repent your sins.  I see the guys selling their papers and I’ve been known to hang out and chat with Mormons when they ring my doorbell.  But never have I been subjected quite so vehemently.

REPENT!  THE END IS NEAR!  REPENT YOUR SINS, BROTHERS AND SISTERS, IN THE NAME OF GOD, AMEN!

(One random woman:  Amen!  Preach on, sister!  Another mousy woman mouths "Amen", seemingly so as not to offend God.  The rest of the bus is either gaping at her or ignoring the fuss.)

She continues shouting what I can only assume are Bible verses for about 90 seconds. 

Frankly, I doubt if she earned herself any converts in that moment, but a boy scout’s mother ushered him off the bus in an extreme hurry.

I really don’t care what your personal beliefs are.  Well, that’s not true, I don’t care if I don’t know you.  If I do know you, I care enough to learn what it is you believe.  However, I do not enjoy having the beliefs of others shoved down my throat when I’m in a situation where I am essentially trapped.

Technically, the bus is private property and I have a feeling that many of the other drivers would have spoken to her sternly or asked her to leave for creating such a ruckus.  It wasn’t too long ago that I heard a young teenage boy spoken to very harshly for singing a non-offensive song in a lovely tenor voice.  He was asked to not disturb the other passengers (who were not disturbed by his singing, frankly).  This was much more disturbing and a whole lot louder.

In most situations, I don’t mind what you say or do, but just don’t shove it down my throat.  Especially if I have no opportunity to walk away.

If you go out drinking with me, you either love me or hate me. That is the point where there is no more ambivilence.

They love me.

Heh. probably. Durnk.

This got way longer than I expected, so I’ll just hide it so it doesn’t make the page obscene.

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