Sunday, July 31, 2011

Who set the clock on my stove?

So on Thursday we had in Las Vegas terms, a heavy thunderstorm. Holy cow, almost 0.25 inches of rain? How did we survive (much sarcasm intended).

The important part of this story is that on Wednesday, the battery on my uninterrupted power supply for my computer died after many years of faithful service. That almost requires in the life of a geek that you lose power or have some sort of power related incident. It is almost required.

So on Thursday during the scary thunderstorm, (again much sarcasm intended) the power went out for a few minutes. This required me to restart my primary computer once the electricity returned and be slightly annoyed at the few things in my house that do not reset themselves and their clocks. The stove, microwave and coffee maker were blinking at me in a we are too low tech to fix ourselves kind of way.

I am pretty lazy and don't really depend on the stove, microwave or coffee maker to tell me what time it is so I was in no rush to set the clocks on these devices. No big deal, I would fix the blinking light issue later when I felt like it. Saturday evening is when I felt like fixing this if only to rid my home of blinking lights.

I looked at the clock on the stove and tried to remember how you go about setting the clock. I checked at my watch and realized that the stove was displaying the same time and was no longer blinking. Odd. Not sure how that happened. I turned to the coffee maker to correct it's blinking issue only to see that it too was displaying the correct time and no longer blinking. Only the microwave seemed to be in the I don't know what time it is blinking stage.

Now I am starting to be a little concerned. I did not set the clock on the stove or coffee maker. When did they magically fix themselves and why is the microwave not playing along with this freak me out moment?

So the question is, who or what set the clock on my stove? There was no one in the house but Huggy Bear and me. Unless my goofy Pomeranian has suddenly learned how to jump up on the counter and adjust the clock settings on kitchen appliances, something odd is going on in my house. Again, why was the microwave not playing along? I am pretty sure something is messing with me. I am starting to suspect the microwave. It knows I don't really care for what it does to my food or plastic containers. I think it is retaliating in the only way a microwave can fight. Convincing the other kitchen appliances to make me think I am losing my mind. I'm on to you Mr. Microwave, this fight is just getting started!

You may want to check in on me every few days, worried that kitchen appliances are conspiring against you has got to me some kind of warning sign. May just be the result of too much time alone with a Pomeranian.
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Friday, July 29, 2011


Those who know me, or are foolish enough to ask, I am proud to tell you I was born in Auburn, Alabama, or technically, Opelika since that was where the hospital was during the time my parents attended Auburn University. Because of this, I gladly list this response for who knows how many Internet sites that ask me my hometown, regardless of the fact that in the grand scope of things, my time in that place was just a brief starting point.

I could list LA (that would be Lower Alabama) or Birmingham as my hometown. I do have many ties to those areas. I could even refer to my hometown as places I have spent an important part of my life. But that would not be true.

My home has always been and will continue to be, whatever house my Mom lives in. Not whatever goofy place I need to live for career or family reasons. It does not matter what city, state or even country. My Mom’s house is Home to me even if I have never lived there. That is how my folks have always offered it to me. Their house is home.

That being said, I am lucky enough to be going “Home” to St. Petersburg, Florida for a few weeks in August to spend a little time with those nice folks who raised me and visit my wonderful Grandma. Officially, my trip home will be to cat sit and house sit while my folks enjoy a much-deserved vacation they have wanted to experience for some time. As much fun as it is to hang out with the cat (she is pretty goofy and entertaining), the chance to have a little one-on-one time with my Grandma (my second favorite lady in the world, after Mom of course) is what I am looking forward to the most.

That is right. I am going to Florida and am not at all interested in going to the beach, fishing or working on my tan. I am just so happy I get to visit, and hopefully, dine with, my Grandma and for at least a small part of the trip, my Mom. Life is good and I am so happy to be going “home”. Not the place where I was born, but the place where my Mom & Dad live and so does my heart.


Sunday, May 29, 2011

Plop Plop, Fizz Fizz

Today I was having a little difficulty with the tiny aliens who live in my tummy. They were fighting in a manner that was causing me some discomfort. They are pretty mean little dudes and regardless of my diet seem to find the need to do battle with my digestive system on a regular basis. So when the old lady who lives with me (otherwise known as the wife) suggested that she had to go to the store and could pick up something for me. I thought Alka Seltzer would be a good solution to this particular problem.

So when she returned from the store and as I was opening the box I commented (revealing my age to anyone reading this) that I remembered when Alka Seltzer was sold in glass tubes. She asked if I was going take one or two tablets. I explained that only she would take one tablet. That the advertisement was not plop fizz but plop plop fizz fizz for a reason. That was the recommended dose.

Lucky for me she understood this and did not further this conversation.

Score one for me.

May never happen again.

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