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Post Scripts
Dec. 17th, 2008 11:51 pmSome post scripts from yesterday:
First, Tery demands that the story of her accomplishment be told, but she doesn't have the motivation to keep a blog of her own.
Last night she replaced most of our ancient metal kitchen sink pipes with PVC. Before you become unduly impressed, she was the one who clogged them irreparably by shoving a lemon into the trash compactor (an attempt to deodorize), a venture I advised against. When she started taking them apart to clear the clog, the 30-year-old metal just disintegrated in her hands. Water started gushing out of the pipe and all over the floor.
Some might think of calling a plumber at this point. But after spending $138 to have a plumber install our new faucet just because we panicked when one pipe didn't seem to fit right, I vowed never again.
With fifteen minutes until closing time, we dashed to Lowe's, the dessicated and crud-filled pipes clutched in her hands. We accosted Dan, a plumbing associate, who from half an aisle away saw the pipes and in under fifteen seconds grabbed the appropriate replacements off the shelves, almost without looking. I was the one who insisted on getting more pipes than technically needed replacing, as I saw no reason to go through this rigamarole twice.
For about 12 bucks we got all the PVC we needed. Tery did the manual work while I held the flashlight, because I have a powerful aversion to the sludge that lives in pipes of all varieties. Not Tery; she poked her finger in and swiped it around without a single qualm. I did talk her through some sticky spots where we couldn't immediately see how the pipes went together, and of course handed her the tools -- sort of like a surgical nurse.
Job completed. Tery declared what a satisfying feeling it was to work with her hands. She wondered if she could get a second job as a plumber in between being a hospital manager. I said be my guest, I could probably quit both my jobs if she were making that kind of money. Then she began fantasizing about being a lesbian plumber and visiting ladies' homes all day and I put a stop to that dream toot sweet.
She insisted on photo documentation, so here you are:
She's so butch 
New mostly plastic pipes
She attributes her success mostly to me not yelling at her while she was working. Another contribution of mine.
~*~
My Truly, Madly, Deeply DVD arrived today. Perhaps the story of this movie needs some qualification. Of course Alan is adorable and funny and romantic in it, all the things he's never allowed to be in almost every other movie. He sings! He's got grab-fuck hair! I don't go 100% for the mustache, but it's the only Alan movie Deb would care about enough to own. The funny thing is back when I was first starting to seek out other Alan movies, before it was an official obsession, I caught it purely by chance on cable. Apparently it hasn't been on TV since, and I've searched. Cosmic conspiracy? You decide.
The problem with the DVD is it comes in two versions, a no-frills and one with director's commentary. Those who know me best know I would never be happy with just the no-frills version. But the special one was out of print and not selling anywhere for less than $50, which was a little too rich for my blood, even burning as it does for Alan.
I don't know what made me search eBay for it again, but I did, and found someone selling a brand new copy, with commentary, for $25. Of course I couldn't resist. I was half afraid it was someone trying to pawn off the no-frills version, but no, it's the correct one (leaving me with an unprecedented lack of saga).
I just watched it again tonight. It's definitely a must-own for Alan fans, however, I'm forced to admit I really prefer him a little older and a little...meatier. He was really scrawny when he was younger. I still wouldn't kick him out of bed but his appeal, at least for me, has definitely increased the older he gets.
No time tonight for the commentary, but I did watch the interview with director Anthony Minghella. This was pretty disappointing. I seek out commentary on some movies because I like the movie. On others I'm hoping for some behind-the-scenes tidbits on whatever actor I bought the movie for. I want to hear what it was like working with them, how they were chosen for the part, stuff like that. Minghella's interview talks a bit about his process in writing the movie, his first time directing a movie, the reaction to the movie, etc. He spends a LOT of time talking about his star Juliet Stevenson (who I found really annoying the first time. She was considerably more tolerable the second time). About how this is their 10th time working together. About how he discovered her in the RSC and instantly wanted to work with her in everything. About the rehearsal she went through to reach the gut-wrenching depths of grief required for one scene in particular.
Oh, yeah, and Alan and a bunch of other people were also really wonderful in the film. Literally, in a 30-minute segment, this is all that is said about Alan. I hope the actual commentary track takes some time out from self-aggrandizing to mention him at some point.
What is it about Alan Rickman that drives the movie makers to avoid doing anything to acknowledge he was a participant? The only commentary I've seen that makes any decent mention of him is Die Hard. It's also the only commentary I've seen that's in text form, so that's a bit annoying.
The rest of the film aside, it amuses me to no end that Juliet Stevenson later co-stars with him again in The Search for John Gissing. It's hard to see them outside of their TMD roles even though they barely interact in Gissing.
~*~
Since my 10% pay cut went into effect this month, I've been really trying to buckle down and concentrate on the transcription work. I think my new attitude of not caring as much about filling in blanks has helped, but it's still a stone drag not being able to idly surf in between reports as often as I used to.
YouTube obviously had to go. I can has cheezburger I can get through faster, and frankly some days I need those guaranteed laughs more than caffeine. I've only just discovered why women hate men; I try to save it as a little treat at the end of the day. The real trick is to stay as far away from cracked.com as possible -- this site sucks more time than YouTube, and delivers more laughs than the cats.
I've cut waaaaaay back on reading my F-list all day, but you people are so damn addictive.
They offered us a conference call to discuss the pay cut with our fellow MTs and supervisors. The catch was since it wasn't actual training, it would be unpaid. Yeah, give up an hour of work for a call that might address my concerns, but more likely would just be an unregulated bitch session, in between listening to a bunch of barely socialized women sharing stories about their day I don't care about, preparing dinner and letting their kids scream in the background? No, thank you.
~*~
Last but not least, this dog's name is Cuddles:
Cuddles
I discovered what an appropriate name it is when she was literally the only dog boarding one weekend, all alone in B ward. I felt bad for her so let her run loose all night, like I do with Beowulf. Unlike Beowulf, she climbed up on my cot with me and curled up behind my knees to sleep. Adorable. Until the morning when I returned her to her cage and she started howling mournfully. Because dogs, unlike cats, can't just say, "Well, this has been lovely but now it's time to move on." Nope, you give and give and then they say, "How much more have you got?"
She was there again the next weekend. Again I let her roam. There was a postop cat in the bottom cage in Recovery that Cuddles just fell in love with, but the cat wanted none of it. Poor Cuddles sat outside the cage all night hoping for another glimpse of her. It was actually quite sad.
First, Tery demands that the story of her accomplishment be told, but she doesn't have the motivation to keep a blog of her own.
Last night she replaced most of our ancient metal kitchen sink pipes with PVC. Before you become unduly impressed, she was the one who clogged them irreparably by shoving a lemon into the trash compactor (an attempt to deodorize), a venture I advised against. When she started taking them apart to clear the clog, the 30-year-old metal just disintegrated in her hands. Water started gushing out of the pipe and all over the floor.
Some might think of calling a plumber at this point. But after spending $138 to have a plumber install our new faucet just because we panicked when one pipe didn't seem to fit right, I vowed never again.
With fifteen minutes until closing time, we dashed to Lowe's, the dessicated and crud-filled pipes clutched in her hands. We accosted Dan, a plumbing associate, who from half an aisle away saw the pipes and in under fifteen seconds grabbed the appropriate replacements off the shelves, almost without looking. I was the one who insisted on getting more pipes than technically needed replacing, as I saw no reason to go through this rigamarole twice.
For about 12 bucks we got all the PVC we needed. Tery did the manual work while I held the flashlight, because I have a powerful aversion to the sludge that lives in pipes of all varieties. Not Tery; she poked her finger in and swiped it around without a single qualm. I did talk her through some sticky spots where we couldn't immediately see how the pipes went together, and of course handed her the tools -- sort of like a surgical nurse.
Job completed. Tery declared what a satisfying feeling it was to work with her hands. She wondered if she could get a second job as a plumber in between being a hospital manager. I said be my guest, I could probably quit both my jobs if she were making that kind of money. Then she began fantasizing about being a lesbian plumber and visiting ladies' homes all day and I put a stop to that dream toot sweet.
She insisted on photo documentation, so here you are:
She's so butch
New mostly plastic pipes
She attributes her success mostly to me not yelling at her while she was working. Another contribution of mine.
~*~
My Truly, Madly, Deeply DVD arrived today. Perhaps the story of this movie needs some qualification. Of course Alan is adorable and funny and romantic in it, all the things he's never allowed to be in almost every other movie. He sings! He's got grab-fuck hair! I don't go 100% for the mustache, but it's the only Alan movie Deb would care about enough to own. The funny thing is back when I was first starting to seek out other Alan movies, before it was an official obsession, I caught it purely by chance on cable. Apparently it hasn't been on TV since, and I've searched. Cosmic conspiracy? You decide.
The problem with the DVD is it comes in two versions, a no-frills and one with director's commentary. Those who know me best know I would never be happy with just the no-frills version. But the special one was out of print and not selling anywhere for less than $50, which was a little too rich for my blood, even burning as it does for Alan.
I don't know what made me search eBay for it again, but I did, and found someone selling a brand new copy, with commentary, for $25. Of course I couldn't resist. I was half afraid it was someone trying to pawn off the no-frills version, but no, it's the correct one (leaving me with an unprecedented lack of saga).
I just watched it again tonight. It's definitely a must-own for Alan fans, however, I'm forced to admit I really prefer him a little older and a little...meatier. He was really scrawny when he was younger. I still wouldn't kick him out of bed but his appeal, at least for me, has definitely increased the older he gets.
No time tonight for the commentary, but I did watch the interview with director Anthony Minghella. This was pretty disappointing. I seek out commentary on some movies because I like the movie. On others I'm hoping for some behind-the-scenes tidbits on whatever actor I bought the movie for. I want to hear what it was like working with them, how they were chosen for the part, stuff like that. Minghella's interview talks a bit about his process in writing the movie, his first time directing a movie, the reaction to the movie, etc. He spends a LOT of time talking about his star Juliet Stevenson (who I found really annoying the first time. She was considerably more tolerable the second time). About how this is their 10th time working together. About how he discovered her in the RSC and instantly wanted to work with her in everything. About the rehearsal she went through to reach the gut-wrenching depths of grief required for one scene in particular.
Oh, yeah, and Alan and a bunch of other people were also really wonderful in the film. Literally, in a 30-minute segment, this is all that is said about Alan. I hope the actual commentary track takes some time out from self-aggrandizing to mention him at some point.
What is it about Alan Rickman that drives the movie makers to avoid doing anything to acknowledge he was a participant? The only commentary I've seen that makes any decent mention of him is Die Hard. It's also the only commentary I've seen that's in text form, so that's a bit annoying.
The rest of the film aside, it amuses me to no end that Juliet Stevenson later co-stars with him again in The Search for John Gissing. It's hard to see them outside of their TMD roles even though they barely interact in Gissing.
~*~
Since my 10% pay cut went into effect this month, I've been really trying to buckle down and concentrate on the transcription work. I think my new attitude of not caring as much about filling in blanks has helped, but it's still a stone drag not being able to idly surf in between reports as often as I used to.
YouTube obviously had to go. I can has cheezburger I can get through faster, and frankly some days I need those guaranteed laughs more than caffeine. I've only just discovered why women hate men; I try to save it as a little treat at the end of the day. The real trick is to stay as far away from cracked.com as possible -- this site sucks more time than YouTube, and delivers more laughs than the cats.
I've cut waaaaaay back on reading my F-list all day, but you people are so damn addictive.
They offered us a conference call to discuss the pay cut with our fellow MTs and supervisors. The catch was since it wasn't actual training, it would be unpaid. Yeah, give up an hour of work for a call that might address my concerns, but more likely would just be an unregulated bitch session, in between listening to a bunch of barely socialized women sharing stories about their day I don't care about, preparing dinner and letting their kids scream in the background? No, thank you.
~*~
Last but not least, this dog's name is Cuddles:
Cuddles
I discovered what an appropriate name it is when she was literally the only dog boarding one weekend, all alone in B ward. I felt bad for her so let her run loose all night, like I do with Beowulf. Unlike Beowulf, she climbed up on my cot with me and curled up behind my knees to sleep. Adorable. Until the morning when I returned her to her cage and she started howling mournfully. Because dogs, unlike cats, can't just say, "Well, this has been lovely but now it's time to move on." Nope, you give and give and then they say, "How much more have you got?"
She was there again the next weekend. Again I let her roam. There was a postop cat in the bottom cage in Recovery that Cuddles just fell in love with, but the cat wanted none of it. Poor Cuddles sat outside the cage all night hoping for another glimpse of her. It was actually quite sad.
