Friday, February 26, 2010

Flukes and Spouts

I wonder if whales have a sense of humor? Do you think that they ponder our existence at all? Or are we like squawking seagulls dropping doo doo over their heads? You know--loud, obnoxious, bossy, pushy, messy.

Yes, we went out whaling again and this time we got us some whales. One hundred ninety people shooting at them like mad. It was a mess. I thought we would capsize every time they would say, "Whale at 3 o'clock!" and everyone would stampede to the keelhaul side, which is nautical speak for the right side of the boat. The left side is the peg leg side, the front of the boat is aye matey, and the back of the boat is the poopdeck side. I am so educated on those terms now. (There is some fancy measurement on when a boat becomes a ship, something like if it is longer than 150 yellow rubber duckies it is a ship.)

I felt kinda of bad for the little kids on board. (Yes, yes. There were little kids on the boat. No, I didn't heave any of them overboard. I was the model of restraint.) I mean, they totally don't get the o'clock stuff. We are going to have to invent a whole new way to do that. They have no idea how to tell time. My Teddy Bear got a fancy new watch for Christmas and she loves wearing it because it's pretty, but do not ask what time it is. She will pull out her cell phone. She says the watch is just a fashion accessory, it's not really meant to tell you the time. How could it be she tells me...there are no numbers on it, only little lines. Whatever. Sesame Street needs to get cracking on this problem.

Anywho, whales, dolphins, and sea lions were out in force...and so were the looky loos. Not us, of course. We motored out past buoy SD-1. Sailboats were far out on the horizon. The San Diego skyline was off to our left looking beautiful. I had a Bloody Mary in hand. Sunlight sparkling off the water. Life was beautiful. Except for all the people on the boat. If you remember, the last time we went whaling, it was raining and there was maybe 30 people on that excursion. This time it was sunny but not hot and we were packed like sardines with 190 people. And thank heavens the little kids stayed on the middle deck for the most part. When I did become such a curmudgeon? I used to be able to tolerate decibel levels that would make a Children of Bodom concert seem quiet by comparison. I was the mom that let the kids leave the cool fort they made in my living room up for days because they weren't done with their adventure.

Back to point. 

You could see other boats wayyyyy out there. Until we started seeing whales. Then it was like a crash on the 405 freeway. The other boats start racing toward us going right over where we had seen a whale. That is OUR whale, go away! There we are floating with our engines trying to be as quiet as possible and here comes the gawkers (not us, of course). It was a traffic jam. Gridlock. 

I think the whales are going to need a car pool lane. 

And the whales were everywhere~! Flukes and spouts. One at a time. Two at a time, sometimes even four at a time. There we were running back and forth trying to see them all. I finally just stayed put in the perfect spot. 

I don't think my mailman will be amused. But like I have said before, he can bite me. He only brings me letters from the tax man and junk mail. 

So, is everybody ready to float around and drink rum and yo ho ho on the Pacific Ocean? I'm sure that a whale spout enema doesn't hurt too much.

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Monday, February 15, 2010

If You Waive Good By, Is It Really Hello?

Aisle be missing you...what? Did I say something wrong? Know, it looks write two me. 

I was in the shopping isle at my local market. What a splash! Serial and crackers all over the place. 


Gosh, quit interrupting. So rude. 

Fine. I guess I better get back to work  since you can't seem to contain yourself. (Do you know in medical transcription you can't use contractions? No, you can't, not at all.) 

How much does grammar matter? Spelling? Do you judge? And, by the weigh, is it judgment or judgement? Traveling or travelling? Must be proper, you know. 

For all you righters out there, how many times do you write and rewrite a post? Lots? Nun at all? Some of you are so eloquent. Your posts have a point, they follow a path, they get to some conclusion. Some of you are snarky and sarcastic. Born storytellers. I wait with baited breath for the next line. 

Or are you like me? Start typing, let it fly, hope it makes cents, and then off it goes? (And spend more time looking for the proper video to go with your post?) I can never be a real author, it takes too much time. I have Blog Attention Deficit Disorder. BADD. This format suits me fine...short, hopefully, pithy, and if you make mistakes, you hope people will forgive you for egregious errors and lack of loquaciousness. Nobody wants to be thought of as a diminutive dimwit. 

Can you tell it's Monday and I want the week to end already? It's Presidents' Day for goodness sake. Nobody is in school, the mailman is taking the day off, the bank is holding my money hostage, so why are my docs in the box...I mean, office? 


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Thursday, February 11, 2010

Why Do They Call It a T-Shirt?

L at Tampons and Chocolate is very bad...she sent me an e-mail asking if I had seen this video. No, I say and off I go to YouTube land to take a peek. That's like telling a crack addict, "Just one line." 

I play in my playlists. I link to other videos they suggest. 

I need help. 

I was in the middle of transcribing a pain report. Wait, that sounds wrong. A doc was dictating a report on a pain patient. That still sounds wrong. Oh, well. Do you know how many times a day I transcribe, "There was no gross bleeding."? Sheesh. I would think all bleeding is pretty gross. I guess that's better than typing "The patient had no frank symptoms." Poor Frank. He gets picked on a lot in medical dictation. 

They call this kind of video stop action. That's almost as funny as gross bleeding. 

Gotta go...
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Monday, February 8, 2010

FCINO or Baa Baa Demon Sheep

I am a political junkie. I love economics and following the financial shenanigans going down now. At age 13, I was clipping newspaper articles on Watergate. I was in college when California passed Proposition 13. I came within a semester or two of a degree in Economics but then got married and had kids. (Can you get a Ph.D in kids?) 

I kept waiting for John Cleese to pop up somewhere and start singing a song. What's next? The Knights who go nee? Or is neep? 

I am taking no position here on any candidate (let me be perfectly clear) but this ad is too good for anyone to miss who doesn't live in California. This should be our state video, an emblem of the nuttiness that is California. 

Enjoy the demon sheep~!

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Thursday, February 4, 2010

I Plan On Keeping My Marbles

I love Chinese checkers.

I bite the big one at chess. 

I know. Chess is for the super smart among us. Those who memorize a chess board and plot and strategize like a mad Napoleon. They ponder. They extrapolate. They freaking drive me crazy. I know how all the pieces move. I'm not a total dunderhead but I don't play with a strategy, which is why I always get my butt kicked. I like sliding that old Bishop in a diagonal dash across the board. Move my pawns so they can be taken like the peons they are. I like the quirky Knight and like to jump him all over the board just to move him. 

And is there anything more humiliating than getting your King or Queen bumped off by a pawn? I don't play the right way so a real chess player will never play with me. Thank god. They get mad when you win because you just wanted to move the castle near your knight because in my mind I am re-enacting the scene from Monty Python, The Holy Grail, and thinking of coconuts and swallows or some such folly. 

No, I am definitely not a chess person.

I like Chinese checkers. So egalitarian. All the marbles are the same size, just different colors, and they all have the same chances. None have super powers. They can't jump up one and across two. One marble does not get to say "Off with your head!" I would also say that unlike regular ol' checkers and chess, you don't lose your marbles. Isn't that a great metaphor for life? Nobody assassinates your King or Queen, or kings you and takes your chips. 

The goal is to jump all your marbles to the other side before the other guy does and you keep your marbles. 

I also like games that move fast. Jump, jump, jump. None of this head hurting planning. Jump. Jump.   

But I like to kick butt and win, too.  (So much for egalitarian!)

Does anybody want to play? You can keep your marbles, too.

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