This is pretty messed up, when you stop to think about it: Anita Hill Asked to Apologize by Justice Thomas’s Wife. Lady, you’re nuts. If that’s an olive branch, I’d hate to see what your full apology looks like. Let it go.
I saw this years ago the night it first aired and I thought it was genius.
People of Delaware, you will get what you deserve. Why are we insisting on electing morons to higher office? What makes them so appealing? Why don’t we hold educated candidates in higher esteem?
…A highly skeptical O’Donnell questioned Coon’s assertion that the First Amendment calls for the separation of church and state. “Let me just clarify: You’re telling me that the separation of church and state is found in the First Amendment?”
Coons responded by quoting the relevant text: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion.”
“That’s in the First Amendment?” a still skeptical O’Donnell replied smiling, as laughter could be heard from the crowd.
Jen and I are not what you might call clothes horses. I think our daughter probably has more clothes than the both of us combined when you remove things like socks and underwear; the only thing that helps us stomach that fact is that we’ve only actually bought about 5% of her wardrobe—the rest have been hand-me-downs or gifts. My own clothes have a median age of about 7 years or so; I’ve got some pants that date back to high school (Vietnam-era jungle fatigues that are as rare as hen’s teeth), a few shirts of the same vintage, and boots from freshman year in college. I tend to wear clothes until they fall off my back or Jen tells me to get rid of them, which makes my daily ensemble a pretty ratty look.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve finally started listening to Jen when it comes to proper sizing, eschewing big baggy clothes for things that actually fit my frame, so the older stuff I’ve got is slowly getting winnowed out as I replace it. This means things like pants that need seven belt loops are getting donated to charity and XL-sized coats have been gifted to my father. I still have some baggy stuff but I wear it only rarely, and it sits in a big tupperware bin waiting for the veterans collection people to haul it off into the sunset.
On the hunt for a proper pair of jeans two years ago, I tried several different brands. My old go-to, a standard pair of Levi’s 501’s, failed to fit me as they had in the past. And I tried. About 15 pairs, to be exact. Every single one fit differently, and every single one looked funny in an I’m-not-spending-$40-on-these sort of way. Some were the male version of Mom Jeans, which is not a look I’m dying to emulate, some looked like I was dragging two bedsheets below my knees, and some hung down around my butt like rolls of elephant skin.
I finally found a winner with the Gap, who sells a flavor called Straight Fit (low on the hips, straight legs, small inseam) which fit me less like Poindexter and more like a fashion model: that is to say, the waist doesn’t come up to my armpits, the pockets aren’t the size of trashcan lids, the fabric is relatively durable and the inseam doesn’t reveal 3/4 of my pasty shins when I sit in a chair. Swell. Sign me up for four pairs.
Well, it didn’t work like that. I could only find one pair the night I tried them on, and that was on a back shelf under some other jeans. So I left with what I could find. Fast forward to this afternoon: They still make this style (thank God) but it’s impossible to find anywhere near the neatly folded wall of denim—they have it sprinkled throughout the store in groups of ten, casually hung or draped or hidden in odd places so that I had to go and ask one of the sales drones. They’ve also jacked the price up from ~$40 to ~$65, negating most of the benefit of a 40% off sale. I wandered around for a little while, doing the math on my iPhone and trying to rationalize the purchase, then finally plunked my card down.
Now, I need to find a winter coat that actually fits.
Here’s a handy link to IH stamping codes, based on some information I found here:
N = 1968
P = 1969
R = 1970
S = 1971
T = 1972
W = 1973
X = 1974
Y = 1975
Z = 1976
A = 1977
B = 1978
C = 1979
D = 1980
I’m curious to see if the 345 in Peer Pressure dates the same as the frame, the body, or perhaps the VIN plate.
Sitting on a bench eating my lunch with some coworkers this afternoon, we looked up to see this magnificent ship sail into the harbor, light off its cannon three times, then smartly turn on its heel and sail back out.
I purchased a used display inverter off eBay a week ago, figuring I’d give IdiotCentral (My 17″ MacBook Pro) one last shot at usefulness before putting her up for sale. This morning at work I took 15 minutes to crack the case and drop the part in, and closed everything back up with my fingers crossed. Upon first boot, the lower half of the screen was still obscured, but after about thirty seconds all the lines disappeared and I was looking at my Dock for the first time in eight months. I just ran some updates and plugged it in to charge the battery, and now I’m wondering what I should do with this thing. The lines might come back, which makes me a little hesitant to try and sell it, but I don’t want it crapping out on us again. I’d love to hand it off to Jen to use as a backup machine for presentations and travel, which is what I’m leaning towards right now, but I’m afraid it’ll start acting up on her right when she needs it the most. What to do?
(I’m also realizing how much I like the new keyboard style better than the old. What a difference!)
It’s cold and dreary in Baltimore (again) but that didn’t stop me from driving the Scout in to work yesterday. The soft top is back on for the duration of the winter so the cabin is relatively warm, and with the heat turned up the only cold chill I feel is on the back of my neck, which reminds me of Chewbacca in the old days. After work I drove up to MICA for the first evening of a figure drawing class, something I’ve done on and off for the past ten years. It was kind of strange to be back on the third floor of Main building for the first time in 20 years. The class went well, even though I was positioned poorly for the first half and the better model was doing the long pose (the other model was a disagreeable woman they’ve used since I was an undergrad).
Finn is in a state of serious separation anxiety, or perhaps suffering from the lingering effects of a cold. Everything has been “Iwantmymama” followed by uninterrupted crying jags for about the past week or so; any refusal to provide service immediately results in hysteria. We could be in the Terrible Twos or fighting off the flu, but it’s hard to tell when proper sentences can’t be formed.
In the meantime, we cranked up the heat at the house for the first time on Monday to battle an early cold snap, which has me considering replacement windows in certain key locations. The biggest offender at present is the west window in the attic, which currently holds a vintage air conditioner of dubious quality and indeterminate weight. Last year I wrapped the entire thing in plastic but that was only a temporary fix. Off the shelf replacement windows can be had for as cheap as $88 at Lowe’s but I would need to get a three-story ladder to place it properly from outside (Or I could just cheat and do it from inside, which is more likely).
We’re also waiting on replacement windows and doors for the side porch, which have been on order since before our vacation. I need to block out time over this coming weekend to clean off the side porch (top floor) and do as much demolition as possible before Mr. Scout is ready to start, which will most likely be in the middle of October. The trick will be getting it hauled out, which I may try to do in loads with the Scout.
→ This is a syndicated post from my Scout weblog. More info here.