rickvs

In the parking lot of an ice-cream store near us, they seem to have set up an electronic scarecrow. A speaker blasts the cries of some raptor bird or another, loud enough to be heard clear across the strip mall. Keeps the flocks of birds away -- and it gave me an idea.

Rachal and I went swimming tonight, after lightning chased the other apartment dwellers out of the pool. Seems that we could acheive the same effect if we pushed speakers against our outside window and pumped thunder sound effects through them. It's worth a shot :>

This morning, my boss came in and told me that one of our new employees had a virus on her computer. He was curious about how she might have acquired it, so after I fixed it, he wanted me to show him what internet sites she'd been visiting lately. He already had an idea what he was looking for.

Turns out those sites included things like "careerbuilder.com", "hotjobs.com", and "monster.com" -- and no, it didn't much matter whether or not she'd been surfing them while off the clock. I dunno if he noticed the recent cover letter and resume she'd also saved to her hard drive, but I fear she may be using them soon. I dunno whether this constitutes just one strike against her, or three-and-out ... suppose I'll find out tomorrow by whether she shows up or not.

Nothing different I could have or would have done, but I still felt kinda rotten chatting her up during the day without warning her she had a black cloud following her. This is one of the reasons I don't have much interest in becoming a supervisor.

In other news, anyone who wants to interview me is invited to do so. On this topic, or whatever other one strikes your fancy...

Our anniversary evening was more than pleasant. I left work after only eight hours (early for me), which got me home while the sun was still out. After a brief cuddle, Rachal and I headed off to the Melting Pot. (If you're not familiar with this place, it's basically a romantically-lit fondue restaurant).

( Click here for more sappy cuteness )

Whenever I place an order for supplies at work, I ask around production to see if anyone needs anything. One of my co-workers will invariably ask me to get him a five-foot-two blonde. This was vaguely amusing about the first 1.5 times I heard it.

Today, he asked me to have a five-foot-six woman couriered over to him.

So I said, "Five-six? That's a pretty tall order..."

I've got the rest of this week to get as much stuff to the old storage place as possible, so that we'll have room to unload the truck when we return from Nashville on Mon/Tues. I also need to hire movers to help us with same -- and contact an ex co-worker of mine, who's about three moves in debt to me, and lifts weights :>

It's a good thing that Rachal's cats are making themselves t'home. Not as good that they're so comfortable they don't realize that the reason I'm paying less attention to them than the scanner is that I'm bloody *using* it....

Thus, I bring you the best side of Paris the cat, and the view with which I am sometimes greeted in the morning:

http://www.concentric.net/~erick/ParisCatastrophe.jpg

Despite appearances, Paris does not belong to the breed of Bendy Cats that was making the news recently -- the waviness of this image is due to the scanning vagaries of having a subject that won't hold still, being too interested in the moving light underneath it.

In other news, I am also recalibrating. Now my definition for "short time away from Rachal" is on the order of five minutes, rather than three weeks ... and "long time away from Rachal = sixteen hours, not four months. I like these changes :>

...but in the spirit of japes and shenanigans, I've come to a conclusion: I have no poker face. After a couple of "did I think that out loud?" incidents at work, I asked my wife if I had ever had a poker face in my bag of tricks, or if I had always spent too much time intentionally broadcasting my emotions at volume eleven. She was of the opinion that I'd murdered my poker face in its sleep :>

I submit the following, from this evening's chat with Rachal:

HER: Mom is eating peeps.

ME: Has she set them up as pedestrians in a little peep city that she can ravage?

HER: no I think she is just happily be-heading the yellow ones

ME: Is she eating the torsos as well -- or are the heads the tastiest part?

HER: I don't know -- in her killing frenzy she has stopped responding.

ME: I can see her now -- sprawled on the rug in a sugar stupor, fingers twitching slightly ...a smile on her face.

HER: yellow drool escaping the corner of her mouth

I've been having a minor problem with my left eye for some months now: the inside corner of it is intermittently bloodshot. I believe it rubs against my bedsheets at night, since I usually sleep sprawled on my face. I've started wearing an eyepatch to bed, and when I remember to do so -- no problem.

Last night, I had a dream that my eye had deflated into almost a disk, like a leaky beach ball. It didn't hurt, and I could still see out of it, but when I looked to my right or left, it would tumble end-over-end in my socket, the same way a heart-shaped lollipop spins in your mouth when you twist its stick.

It was bizarre, especially since this was another one of those unusual times when I didn't realize I was dreaming till I woke up. I much preferred the dream of the previous night, when I was guest starring on "NYPD Blue"...

My wife, rachalvs, is making an unplanned visit, and I expect her in a few hours. One of her co-workers is attending a funeral in Ft. Worth, so Rachal is tagging along to keep her company, and to hook up with another temp agency here in Dallas.

*happy dance*