Posts (page 2)
My new camera arrived and I am completely enamored of it. I named her Beulah. Beulah is way more camera than I will ever need and I don't know half of what she does. I'm going to take a new feature every week and concentrate on learning it. Eventually I figure I'll know all of Beulah's secrets.
In the meantime, I've been running around the house photographing the pets. Because really, there are no better models than Mayor McCheese, Sassy, and Murphy.
This photo is Mayor McCheese stealing water from Murphy's bowl. When the Mayor first started doing this, Mr. Fish worried that Murphy would get all territorial and try to eat the Mayor. As it turns out, despite being prone to extreme excitement, Murphy is the most mellow dog on the planet and likes to share. Who knew?
I'm not sure if I'm crazy or just motivated. This morning I decided it would be a great idea to sign up for the 2007 Philly half-triathalon. I haven't signed up yet [mostly because registration doesn't start until next March], but I've made up my mind I'm going to...and I convinced Mr. Fish to as well.
I've run a 5K here and there over the years, but at this point I'm not in exactly peak physical condition. In fact, I'm a flabby overindulgent mess. But that's where the fact that the race isn't until next year comes in handy - the little man and I have a year and four months to whip ourselves into shape and buy schmancy new bikes and whatever other equipment we need.
Of course, this leads me to the next thing: I have no idea what kind of equipment I might need. But I am relatively certain I'll be needing hepatitis shots or something since I'll be swimming a mile in the Schuylkill River - home to numerous unidentified corpses and pollution so bad the fish have three eyes and can speak.
After the swim, I'll be biking around Fairmount Park for 14 miles and then running down West River Drive for three miles.
It should be relatively easy to train for the biking and running parts, but I'm unsure of how to practice for the swimming. It's not like you can legally take a quick dip in the river. I've seen articles that recommend swimming outdoors, but I don't think there are any rivers in the area where you can just go for a swim. The only thing I can think of is to really train hard this Summer at the Jersey shore - swimming in the river should be a snap after training in the ocean.
My new camera is due to be delivered today. A Canon Rebel XT 8 megapixel with starter lens kit.
I feel like a total dork because I'm stalking the UPS tracking site and may leave early if it's delivered before I would normally go home. I just want to take pictures of my pores, because I totally can with an 8 megapixel camera.
I've been to Texas once. I flew to Houston a few years ago to surprise a friend for the weekend. And, you know, I had a good time and I love my friends in Houston...but I find Texans in general to be a little strange. It might not just be Texans - it might be Southerners. I don't have enough experience with Southerners in the South to be able to make that statement with any certainty. They're just a little too friendly and a little too willing to be all up in my personal space.
What I'm really getting at here is the victory of Tom DeLay in the primary election. I have serious doubts about the intelligence of anyone who would vote for his re-election right now. The man is up to his eyeballs in allegations of ethical misconduct and indictments for all sorts of campaign finance violations. I know the current brand of Republican is high on the pollyana scale, but surely they give a rat's ass about being represented by someone with credibility and high ethics.
I'm convinced the Republicans in DeLay's district have abused wife syndrome. After years of being slapped around and told they're fat, ugly, and useless [go get me a potpie, beeyotch!], they've grown to like and crave the negative attention. Otherwise, the only excuse is that they're partisan hacks who can't think for themselves.
I have deja vu. It's all strangely familiar. The threats. The looming dread. But this time it's not Iraq - it's Iran.
Iran will not be allowed to have nuclear weapons and faces “meaningful consequences” if it persists in defying the international community, Vice President Dick Cheney said Tuesday.
“The Iranian regime needs to know that if it stays on its present course the international community is prepared to impose meaningful consequences,” Cheney said in a speech to the pro-Israel lobbying group AIPAC.
Of course, I'm not so sure this is anything other Big Dick trying to look tough for his war-iffic base, since a diplomat from Austria says Iran is willing to put off it's full-scale uranium enrichment for two years.
Not that it matters. Like the run up the Iraq invasion, I'm sure the administration will just tart up the intelligence to say what they want it to say. Of course, considering the Taliban is making a comeback in Afghanistan and Iraq is a mess, I'm not sure exactly who they is going to be fighting this fresh, new war.
I'd like to see the GOP shed their stuffy power suits and take on the mantle of fatigues and armorless vehicles themselves, if they're so keyed up to invade Iran. Hey man, it's an ownership society, right?
So last night I was watching the Oscars. When Six Shooter won for Best Live Action Short, I wondered if Martin McDonagh, the playwright, was kidding when he mentioned actor Ruaidhrí Conroy couldn't be with him because he was being detained by U.S. immigration.
I thought, no, there's no way. The guy is coming to the Oscars. Having worked in immigration for a couple of years, I know that celebrities get afforded a fairly liberal leeway with visa regulations and stuff like that.
Well, they used to. That was in the early '90s, before the fear brigade made it common practice to cavity search anyone with even the slightest blemish on their record. Conroy was, indeed, stopped, interrogated, searched, and escorted out of the country...all because he once overstayed his visa by two days while working on a play.
US immigration officials questioned Conroy about his visits to America, his parents, and warned him he might not make it into the country.
“They asked what age I was, all sorts of ridiculous questions,” he said. “And then took me into a cell, a bare cell, and put me up against the wall and searched me, went through my bag, took an inventory of all my valuables and took all my fingerprints again.”<p>Conroy told the officers he had travelled to the States to attend the Oscars.<p>“I said that from the beginning, but I don’t think that impressed them very much to be honest. I think that egged them on more to keep me out of the country rather than keep me in,” he said.
“They weren’t very nice people to be honest, they weren’t very welcoming.”
Since investing airport security personnel with absolute authority, they've become - let's say - more than a little unpleasant. You know what they say: absolute power corrupts absolutely. I'm surprised airport security didn't resort to shocking Conroy's testicles with a yacht battery to get the truth out of him.
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