Orbit #38 ends.
May. 10th, 2004 10:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elfsSo, on Friday past I completed by 38th journey around the sun without much in the way of disruption. I picked up Yamaarashi-chan from her home and then drove into downtown to pick up Peter G., who was in town for WinHEC. Then we headed home, where for my birthday I chose to find the nearest non-chain self-described steak house.
Are there no good steak houses anymore?
It was ordinary and sad. Even more ordinary and sad, it was in the same building where the Kent Black Angus used to be-- and that was a classy joint. Even more ordinary and sad, the bookstore that used to be behind it, "Book World," a used bookstore that specialized in romance and science fiction, had disappeared, replaced by the build-out of the McClendon's hardware store next door. (Y'know, for a "third tier" local chain that five years ago was ready to surrender to Home Depot and Lowes, they're doing remarkably well.)
We stopped at Baskin-Robbins for dessert, then headed home, where the girls were so tired that we put them to bed immediately. They crashed hard; so did we, less than half an hour later.
Pre-party preparations
Saturday involved a lot of hurtling about, preparing the house for the evening party. To make time, breakfast was just cereal.
The deck needed to be swept and the grill, which had been out all winter, needed to be cleaned. The utility table in the kitchen where Omaha and I keep all of our paperwork needed to be cleared and the living room needed vacuuming. Although we mop the floors on Sunday, I decided that I would do that Saturday instead, since we were in a cleaning frenzy anyway.
I braved a pair of yellowjackets that were building nests under an overturned flowerpot on the deck, swept the front walkway mostly dirtied with soil from Omaha's recent gardening efforts, then ran to take Yamaarashi-chan back to her mother's house. By the time I'd returned,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fallenpegasus had shown up. I took a shower and muttered that at 38 I was feeling old; after my shower I had used an after-shave, moisturizer, eye-cream, leave-in conditioner and a stiffening gel on my hair and another moisturizer for my hands. I have more skin care products, and more quality skin care, than my mother ever dreamed. That's scary.
My Birthday Party. Excellent!
All in all, about twenty people showed up. Most of them were folks I'd seen on and off over the year, which is good. Brian D., who I don't usually see more than once a year, showed up on a brand new BMW motorcycle with more geek toys than Santa. He even had one for me, a device that'll let me reliably back up my hard drive, and a stack of media. Yay!
shemayazi brought some wonderful wine, and another brought some amazing beer. (Come to think of it, there's a lot of beer left over, as nobody drank very much; anyone want to come over and help drink it?) We had a babysitter to watch the kids (Kouryou-chan and whatever kids the guests showed up with) downstairs. By eleven the kids were out cold, although it took a bit of work; they did what girls always do during a slumber party, giggle a lot. The conversation was worthwhile, and I owe kendaer a pointer to or copies of the Tacoma-based band Slainte's CDs, since they've disappeared off the web. They used to be on mp3.com, but the "new" mp3.com doesn't have its act together yet.
Thanks to everyone who came over.
Mother's Day: Why am I at the office?
What the heck is this? It's such a beautiful day out and I go in to the office. The fact is Friday the lab was shutdown to facilitate a new build-out and I was running behind schedule. I needed to get caught up. So in I went. I should go in on weekends more often; in the three hours I was there I got more done than I usually do in a whole day. But that would annoy Omaha, I bet.
Good Samaritans Suck. Sometimes.
One of the cool gifts I got last night was a new bicycle. It's a mid-range dual-purpose thing with 24 speeds although really only about 18 are practical to use, an atomic gear shifter which is annoying and widgety; give me an ordinary lever anyday, and one of those new bicycle seats with the trough for the pubic bone so the seat doesn't cut off circulation to a man's most treasured organ. Sweet!
While I'm fixing it, changing the tires from all-terrain to touring and putting on my water bottle holder and lock, this car drives up and this tall, rangy-looking guy I do not know starts walking towards me. I know, in the abstract, who he is: he is a member of my neighbor's church who comes over sometimes and helps them fix things, like their bicycles. Without any introduction-- without any societal niceties at all-- he starts looking over my old bicycle's frame from which I'm cannibalizing the bottle holder, the lock, the in-frame tire pump, among other things. He starts talking about the bicycles, admiring the new one and asking me all sorts of questions. I'm a little bewildered, not to mention flustered: who are you? Why are you talking to me? Why did you just walk onto my property without invitation or introduction?
And then he asks me why I bothered to get a new one when the old one was perfectly serviceable. I looked at him, puzzled. The old one's been in the garage since Kouryou-chan was born. It's rusty in places. The brakes are shot. I rode it hard when I was mountain biking and in its last year I broke several teeth off the front gear mechanism. "Ah, all that's fixable." I pointed out that two repair shops had quoted me prices in the $300 range to do it, and for that I could replace it with a new one.
"What do they know? That's mostly labor costs. New front gear, some cables, brake pads, maybe the rear derailluer-- it'd run you about a hundred bucks. Maybe one twenty. I've got the tools. Bring it over someday when I'm fixing Chris's kids' bikes."
I managed to hold my tongue and thank him for his advice. But inside I was seething. Fuck you, who the Hell do you think you are? Omaha bought this for me because we both had come to the same conclusion, that it was better to replace than repair the old bike, and now you come along and suck all the joy out of it by telling us that her choice was an unwarranted waste of money. I was so glad to see him finally leave. On the one hand, he didn't know but, gods, have a little respect for the social niceties.
Kouryou-chan's new trailer. Mother's Day Dinner with crisis..
Omaha had bought a trail-bike attachement with a seat and handlebars for Kouryou-chan, and I hooked it up to the back of my new bicycle and Kouryou-chan and I put on our helmets and tried it out. It worked great, and now she wants to go riding every weekend. We'll see.
Omaha tore out some of our landscaping; a couple of bushes on the eastern edge of the property had overgrown last fall and died in the winter, so she spent a good portion of the day cutting them out. It was a lot of work, but she seemed to be enjoying it.
We went out to The Keg for dinner, which was a disappointment again. (What is it with restaurants being unable to cook a decent meal anymore? Or have my standards gone up as I've taught myself to cook at home?) Even more upsetting, when we just getting our dessert, an elderly woman in the lobby fell to the floor and was unconscious. I didn't see what happened, but while we were there the staff struggled to stuff folded tablecloths under her head while an ambulance came. Omaha and I tried to explain to Kouryou-chan why she should not go over and see, that she was being taken care of and we would only be getting in the way at that point, and our waitress was kind enough to help us find a way out that would involve not going past the lobby and the scene generated therein.
By the time we got home, it was bedtime for everyone. I cleaned up a little and made new Japanese language CDs for lessons 23-26. I finished Lesson 22 on Friday; I'm all caught up! Yay! I can now say things like "Your wife is too fat, right?" And then I headed off to bed.
Are there no good steak houses anymore?
It was ordinary and sad. Even more ordinary and sad, it was in the same building where the Kent Black Angus used to be-- and that was a classy joint. Even more ordinary and sad, the bookstore that used to be behind it, "Book World," a used bookstore that specialized in romance and science fiction, had disappeared, replaced by the build-out of the McClendon's hardware store next door. (Y'know, for a "third tier" local chain that five years ago was ready to surrender to Home Depot and Lowes, they're doing remarkably well.)
We stopped at Baskin-Robbins for dessert, then headed home, where the girls were so tired that we put them to bed immediately. They crashed hard; so did we, less than half an hour later.
Pre-party preparations
Saturday involved a lot of hurtling about, preparing the house for the evening party. To make time, breakfast was just cereal.
The deck needed to be swept and the grill, which had been out all winter, needed to be cleaned. The utility table in the kitchen where Omaha and I keep all of our paperwork needed to be cleared and the living room needed vacuuming. Although we mop the floors on Sunday, I decided that I would do that Saturday instead, since we were in a cleaning frenzy anyway.
I braved a pair of yellowjackets that were building nests under an overturned flowerpot on the deck, swept the front walkway mostly dirtied with soil from Omaha's recent gardening efforts, then ran to take Yamaarashi-chan back to her mother's house. By the time I'd returned,
fallenpegasus had shown up. I took a shower and muttered that at 38 I was feeling old; after my shower I had used an after-shave, moisturizer, eye-cream, leave-in conditioner and a stiffening gel on my hair and another moisturizer for my hands. I have more skin care products, and more quality skin care, than my mother ever dreamed. That's scary.My Birthday Party. Excellent!
All in all, about twenty people showed up. Most of them were folks I'd seen on and off over the year, which is good. Brian D., who I don't usually see more than once a year, showed up on a brand new BMW motorcycle with more geek toys than Santa. He even had one for me, a device that'll let me reliably back up my hard drive, and a stack of media. Yay!
shemayazi brought some wonderful wine, and another brought some amazing beer. (Come to think of it, there's a lot of beer left over, as nobody drank very much; anyone want to come over and help drink it?) We had a babysitter to watch the kids (Kouryou-chan and whatever kids the guests showed up with) downstairs. By eleven the kids were out cold, although it took a bit of work; they did what girls always do during a slumber party, giggle a lot. The conversation was worthwhile, and I owe kendaer a pointer to or copies of the Tacoma-based band Slainte's CDs, since they've disappeared off the web. They used to be on mp3.com, but the "new" mp3.com doesn't have its act together yet.Thanks to everyone who came over.
Mother's Day: Why am I at the office?
What the heck is this? It's such a beautiful day out and I go in to the office. The fact is Friday the lab was shutdown to facilitate a new build-out and I was running behind schedule. I needed to get caught up. So in I went. I should go in on weekends more often; in the three hours I was there I got more done than I usually do in a whole day. But that would annoy Omaha, I bet.
Good Samaritans Suck. Sometimes.
One of the cool gifts I got last night was a new bicycle. It's a mid-range dual-purpose thing with 24 speeds although really only about 18 are practical to use, an atomic gear shifter which is annoying and widgety; give me an ordinary lever anyday, and one of those new bicycle seats with the trough for the pubic bone so the seat doesn't cut off circulation to a man's most treasured organ. Sweet!
While I'm fixing it, changing the tires from all-terrain to touring and putting on my water bottle holder and lock, this car drives up and this tall, rangy-looking guy I do not know starts walking towards me. I know, in the abstract, who he is: he is a member of my neighbor's church who comes over sometimes and helps them fix things, like their bicycles. Without any introduction-- without any societal niceties at all-- he starts looking over my old bicycle's frame from which I'm cannibalizing the bottle holder, the lock, the in-frame tire pump, among other things. He starts talking about the bicycles, admiring the new one and asking me all sorts of questions. I'm a little bewildered, not to mention flustered: who are you? Why are you talking to me? Why did you just walk onto my property without invitation or introduction?
And then he asks me why I bothered to get a new one when the old one was perfectly serviceable. I looked at him, puzzled. The old one's been in the garage since Kouryou-chan was born. It's rusty in places. The brakes are shot. I rode it hard when I was mountain biking and in its last year I broke several teeth off the front gear mechanism. "Ah, all that's fixable." I pointed out that two repair shops had quoted me prices in the $300 range to do it, and for that I could replace it with a new one.
"What do they know? That's mostly labor costs. New front gear, some cables, brake pads, maybe the rear derailluer-- it'd run you about a hundred bucks. Maybe one twenty. I've got the tools. Bring it over someday when I'm fixing Chris's kids' bikes."
I managed to hold my tongue and thank him for his advice. But inside I was seething. Fuck you, who the Hell do you think you are? Omaha bought this for me because we both had come to the same conclusion, that it was better to replace than repair the old bike, and now you come along and suck all the joy out of it by telling us that her choice was an unwarranted waste of money. I was so glad to see him finally leave. On the one hand, he didn't know but, gods, have a little respect for the social niceties.
Kouryou-chan's new trailer. Mother's Day Dinner with crisis..
Omaha had bought a trail-bike attachement with a seat and handlebars for Kouryou-chan, and I hooked it up to the back of my new bicycle and Kouryou-chan and I put on our helmets and tried it out. It worked great, and now she wants to go riding every weekend. We'll see.
Omaha tore out some of our landscaping; a couple of bushes on the eastern edge of the property had overgrown last fall and died in the winter, so she spent a good portion of the day cutting them out. It was a lot of work, but she seemed to be enjoying it.
We went out to The Keg for dinner, which was a disappointment again. (What is it with restaurants being unable to cook a decent meal anymore? Or have my standards gone up as I've taught myself to cook at home?) Even more upsetting, when we just getting our dessert, an elderly woman in the lobby fell to the floor and was unconscious. I didn't see what happened, but while we were there the staff struggled to stuff folded tablecloths under her head while an ambulance came. Omaha and I tried to explain to Kouryou-chan why she should not go over and see, that she was being taken care of and we would only be getting in the way at that point, and our waitress was kind enough to help us find a way out that would involve not going past the lobby and the scene generated therein.
By the time we got home, it was bedtime for everyone. I cleaned up a little and made new Japanese language CDs for lessons 23-26. I finished Lesson 22 on Friday; I'm all caught up! Yay! I can now say things like "Your wife is too fat, right?" And then I headed off to bed.
Another east-side steak place
Date: 2004-05-11 09:30 am (UTC)Anyway, have you tried The Cowboy Steakhouse in Totem Lake? It's across the lane from the old Totem Lake Cinemas (They're now an Indian language film house...how cool). Their prices are reasonable, the food is prepared well, they even know what "well done" means. The buttermilk biscuits are GREAT!! The only drawback is the decor. It's cowboy kitsch. You know, fake steer hide covering the booth seats, miniature old west store fronts on the upper half of the walls, branding irons on the lower walls, curtains printed with cowboy and cowgirl patterns, that sort of thing. Some find it annoying, but I don't have problems with it.
Dennis