In My Bag

I’m so not into cars. I wouldn’t know a bag of Polaris Ranger RZR Parts if they jumped up and hit me in the face. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know some things about cars. Like gas. And oil changes. How to change a tire. How to detect bald tires, cupping tires, tires that need FIXING. And dying alternators.

Um, the last two things mentioned? Yeah, I have a gripe. When our first Kia’s alternator was dying, Dan had to hear it from the dealership itself (which I drove the dying car to, very very slowly, and it died for good in their lot) to believe something was wrong. Nevermind that I had done research to confirm the symptoms the car was showing.
Then, last summer, my car’s tires needed to be replaced, desperately. They were wearing VERY unevenly, particularly in the back, where they were actually cupping. Again, because I own a vagina I don’t have a clue, so he had to hear from the tire tech dude at Wal-Mart Tire & Auto before believing something was wrong.

He’ll also take as gospel anything his brother says. I should just go directly to his brother and have him rely the gospel messages that I don’t feel like wasting my breath on.

My husband has a love of bowling. This remain unbeknown to us, until several months ago, when he went bowling with his brothers. And loved it. So we bowled several times in November. And December. He went again with his brothers last weekend. And I went with him last Sunday.

Um, I suck at bowling. His scores were in the 160s to 190s. My top score was… 94? I think?

Honestly, bowling doesn’t interest me. Hubby wants to buy bowling shoes, and I want to play another game of bowling almost as much as I want to shop for ladies golf clubs (psst, I HATE golf!), so I think I’ll send him on his merry way to his brothers or a bowling league, while I do something I actually like. Like pool. My BIL taught me the basics of it, and I like it! (Even if I’m not very good at it.)

My twelve year old brother is a pack rat. Seriously, either my mom, myself or my husband go into his room for a thorough cleaning at least once every three months, and we come out with two to four garbage bags worth of CRAP. I think what makes it so bad is that not only is he a pack rat, but he latches on to multiple copies of the same thing! He’ll take not one but five pamphlets from a tourist trap, or four free magazines, or eight golf caps. Seriously, what the heck? And of course, he’s a slob on top of it, so his room is one big fire trap waiting to go up in smoke.

Me, on the other hand… I am organized. To a fault!

I need to drag my lazy butt over to Lowes and look for some landscaping lighting. They have a lot more residential lighting than my beloved Target, which is why I’m willing to make the trip. We have a set of solar powered landscaping lights, but one broke (dumb, clumsy neighborhood kid), and we need a few more.

I also want a flood light for the back yard, near the shed, and maybe some of those fancy decorative lantern style lights to string along our deck (once it’s built, lol). What do you think?

Would you care for some high pressure sodium lights? No? Me neither. I do, however, need a new three way bulb for one of our living room lamps. The stupid cats went all psycho over a fly and knocked over a lamp in their haste to chase their prey. The bulb broke, of course. And to add insult to injury, THREE cats couldn’t manage to kill a fly.

But then again, two are Persians (bred to look pretty and be friendly, and that’s about it lol) and the one is a little vacant upstairs…

Damn cats. I had just replaced that bulb last month, too!

Tonight I was a very busy bee. Not only did I spend several hours working on some writing assignments related to commercial lighting, but I also played around with my digital camera (Nikon D40x) on completely manual settings. I got some REALLY awesome shots:

See?

I once worked at a data center that handled all of its service and customer calls at one center, as opposed to spreading them out at several centers. Keeping everything in-house and under one roof is known as data center consolidation.

Ah, my telemarketing days and phone support days are over… thank goodness! My last phone job in particular was especially a pain, since it was a small, family owned and family run company, that did everything possible, including working us employees to the bone, in order to present the image of a big time company.