Temperatures are in the 50s, it’s raining, and there’s no football game.

I hope to spend the day napping and reading.

Wish me luck!

If you looked at yesterday’s pictures of the game traffic, you noticed that we have several yard signs for the election. (More than appear in the picture, actually.)

When I went to the Democratic Headquarters, I wanted an Obama sign, a Jay Rockefeller sign, and a Charlene Marshall sign. When I got there my friend Gwen was working, and she talked me into several other signs, since they were out of Obama signs, and told me she’d let me know when they got more Obama signs.

Last week we got our Obama sign, and added it to the yard.

Last night someone stole not just our Obama sign, but all the Obama signs in the neighborhood. (There were four Obama signs and one McCain sign on our drive home.) They didn’t touch the other signs, just stole our Obama sign.

We’ll try and get another sign today–assuming they still have some.

People suck.

ADDENDUM the First:
Gina For The Win!
“Yes, removing a few yard signs will totally help John McCain and Caribou Barbie win.”

Even though we use compact florescents, he still treats the light like a sun lap.

Large eyes, long whiskers, cute pink nose.

He’s even got the head tilt down. Cute! Cute! Cute!

As I’ve mentioned before, my house is really close to the stadium. This means I can enjoy not only the drunks, but also the fireworks during night games.

I’ve been trying for years to figure out how to take good pictures of fireworks. My problem this time is I wasn’t sure we were having fireworks at halftime, so I had to run out in my clogs without my tripod or even a jacket.

So between holding the camera over my head and shivering, the shots weren’t too still.

Ah well, I’ll get it eventually.

(more…)

Yes, it’s time for WVU’s Thursday night home game (as you may have noticed from the previous post.)

It’s 4:45 and traffic going to the stadium has been backed up since I got home around 4:00.

Fun for all!

ADDENDUM the First:
Good Grief.

ADDENDUM the Second:
GROAN.

ADDENDUM the Third:
sigh

ADDENDUM the Fourth:
I’ve resorted to whiskey and chocolate.

ADDENDUM the Fifth:
Yay! Fireworks! They looked awesome from my driveway!

ADDENDUM the Sixth:
93 yard drive! Touchdown! We pull ahead! 20-17!

ADDENDUM the Seventh:
Whew!

ADDENDUM the Eighth:
TOUCHDOWN! Ten point lead! 27-17!

ADDENDUM the Ninth:
TOUCHDOWN for NOEL DEVINE!
33-17!
Over 200 yards for Devine.

ADDENDUM the Tenth:
INTERCEPTION on the LAST PLAY OF THE GAME!
33-17!
GAME OVER!

There are maybe six students in the lab.

The parking lot is maybe a quarter full. Probably less.

Everyone is wandering around going, “Is it time to go yet? Is it time to go yet?”

Y’know. I realize they’re big money, but night games are a disaster educationally. Because we’re so close to the stadium, our parking lots have to be emptied by five, or they’ll start towing. Mind you, we have to pay for parking, so this is a tad bit more than annoying. So a lot of professors simply canceled classes today, so they wouldn’t have to deal with the parking fiasco.

And tomorrow… you think classes will be full tomorrow morning?

Of course that’s not going to stop me from walking home and turning on my radio to enjoy the game.

LET’S GO MOUNTAINEERS!

Like everyone else, I get the occasional e-mail missives that I suspect are sent simply to tweak me.

Here is the latest. (with the ridiculous fonts and colors and sizes removed for your sanity.)

REFUSE NEW COINS

This simple action will make a strong statement.

Please help do this.. Refuse to accept these when they are handed to you..

U.S.Government to Release New Dollar Coins

You guessed it
‘IN GOD WE TRUST’ IS GONE!!!
If ever there was a reason to boycott something, THIS IS IT!!!!

DO NOT ACCEPT THE NEW DOLLAR COINS AS CHANGE

Together we can force them out of circulation.

My response is simple: Redde Caesari quae sunt Caesaris et quae sunt Dei, Deo.

I’ve been trying to add some varied aerobic activity into my workout. I can’t run or do elliptical machines because of my knees, and to be honest I don’t like a lack of forward momentum. So I’ve been looking for activities to add to my walking, and decided to add jump roping.

The first jump rope I got was too short. Way too short. It kept getting caught in my hair on the upswing (my hair is chin length, but too short to pull back). I could get about ten jumps in before the thing would tangle in my hair and go off course.

So I found a longer jump rope.

I tried this a couple times, however, for some unknown reason, the rope (actually thin, smooth plastic/rubber tube[think a whip]) kept twisting at the top (or bottom if you prefer) of the arc, and would after 15 to 20 jumps twist around itself twice–enough that it would go entirely off course.

Michael actually witnessed this, and saw the rope coiling as I jumped.

Yesterday I decided I’d do 25 jumps, untwist the rope, do 25 more jumps, and so on and so forth.

At about sixteen jumps I had a fair amount of momentum, at which point the rope comes down SMACK on my arm.

I’ve still got a six to eight-inch mark on my forearm where the damned thing hit me.

So no more jump rope. I’m thinking of jumping over the painted lines on the floor, except with my luck, I’ll probably trip over ’em.

I was over at Stonekettle Station tormenting Jim, when I noticed a typo Jim made, ran with it, and ended up with the following. Now I’m trying to decided how curious I am about what happens.

(more…)

Michael: You look broken.
Michelle: I am broken.
Michael: I don’t have a receipt. Are you recyclable?
Michelle: No, but I am compostable.
Michael: Hmmm…
Michelle: HEY!

If you don’t read John Scalzi’s blog, you may have missed this news story.

No matter how hard I try, I’ll never be a good person, at least in comparison to the likes of Leroy C. McLaughlin. But for all I’ll never achieve that level of goodness, he still inspires me to try.

I’ve pretty much been ignoring the Steven’s trial, because I don’t live in Alaska, and really just don’t care that much. Sure it’ll affect my friends, but that’s the extent to which I care.

However.

I heard a quote this morning that boggled my mind.

We have many things in our house that don’t belong to us.

Really? I mean seriously?

Now, I have to admit that most of the furniture in our house when we first got married had been given to us by family members. But these were pieces that had seen years of use and had value in possibly the ones or even tens of dollars.

And these items were always seen as gifts, and when we have replaced our furniture with newer pieces we’ve made sure to give our older pieces to friends and family who needed them, or to donate them to charity. (We did them same thing with our cars actually. One Michael bought used, the other was given me by my dad. When we got a new to us or even an honest-to-God new car, we donated the other car to The Mountaineer Good News Garage. [I highly recommend finding a similar charity in your area the next time you buy a new–or new to you–car.]) Because what comes around, goes around.

But I somehow doubt that was the case with Ted Stevens. I find it very unlikely that he has ever had a brown and orange sofa from the early 70s in his house–unless it was actually in the 70s and matched his decor. Or that he was delighted by the gift of an eight-year old Toyota Camry with a slightly rusting body, because it was more reliable than his current vehicle.

It seems to me that Stevens was either being coy, or was trying to play to people like me who have been given things by their family and friends when they couldn’t afford new items themselves.

But I don’t think those situations are in the slightest comparable, never mind the fact that such items were always seen as gifts.

If he’s just being coy… Well, that’s just obnoxious. And to be honest, offensive. As the prosecuting attorney said, “So, if you say it’s not a gift, it’s not a gift?“

I’ve felt off-kilter for the past couple days. Nothing I can specifically say that’s it, just a vague feeling of unease and anxiety.

Which really sucks.

When I was at the gym doing crunches, I had the following conversation with myself.

Me: eighteen, nineteen…
Me: Why am I doing this.
Me: …
Me: Really. Do I care how I look?
Me: twenty, twenty-one?
Me: No. I don’t care. So why am I doing these damned crunches?
Me: Um… twenty-two?
Me: If I’m walking thirty minutes a day isn’t that ENOUGH?
Me: Er… twenty-three?
Me: My stomach is never going to be flat, why am I bothering?
Me: twenty-four.
Me: I hate this. I hate crunches.
Me: (sigh)
Me: (stares at the ceiling)
Me: Because. That’s why. Because it’s good for you.
Me: But I don’t like doing crunches. They’re boring. They aren’t doing me any good. I feel bloated.
Me: one, two, three…

I hate Mondays.

One of the nursing professors and I share a love for comic book movies, and so when I see him he usually tells me about what movies he’s seen–including the movies his wife takes him to.

Dan: Hey, did you see the new movie Ghost town?
Michelle: No.
Dan: It’s… wait, do you like nice movies?
Michelle: Nope. I like movies with lots of explosions.
Dan: Well, don’t see it.