Sitting in a pool of gasoline...

... and that was only the beginning of my day.

In response to a trouble call from my grandfather, I ended up running out to give his van a jump. He couldn't get it started even with a jump so he had to call a tow-truck. He said that he didn't need my help beyond that so I came back home.

At this point, I hadn't even grabbed a shower yet. Before I could get one toe wet, my grandfather called again and asked for an extra pair of hands. I should know better, but he's my last grandparent so I threw my clothes back on and headed back over.

Within ten minutes, we discovered that his fuel line had a crack in it and I was sitting in a pool of gasoline while it drained into buckets. This then progressed into cutting the rusted section out of the gas line and replacing it with high-pressure hose.

I've found out
a) My Gerber pocket knife can cut through high-pressure hose like it's butter.
b) Gasoline is not shampoo.
c) Even with an electrician, an auto mechanic, a carpenter and a few plumbers in the family I am -STILL- no where near mechanically inclined.


So I'm going to jump in the shower - there's been no follow-up calls for 10 minutes. I think it's safe.

Later.

-Tom

I went to the Hospital today...

And for all of you who were only skimming the blog for a title, hah!

Today I rode over to the local Hospital with Josh. It's about a 3 mile round trip so it was a little further than I was used to riding, but it was a good ride.

The seat has been fixed and the handle bars have been raised so I'm not hunched over so much and having problems with my 'sitting bones'.

Riding has become something that I do now each day to build up my endurance and shred some calories. This is also, unfortunately, giving me more sun than I'm used to so I'm also enjoying a the pleasure of some Advil before I head out.

Glasses of Iced Tea: Lots
Bottles of Diet Pepsi: None
Cravings for cookies, pizza and diet pepsi: incalculable.
Number of days I've saved gasoline: 4
Number of house projects conceptualized: 13
Number of house projects I can afford: (tba)

Owie

Miles Ridden: 2
Money spent: too much
Lessons learned about bike seats: 1, Owie.
# of 'Pain in the ass' jokes: 47

Rather than being stuck at home all the time because gas prices are just too high for luxury driving, I opted to invest a few bucks into something that I hope will pay me back two fold.

Yesterday, I went out to the store and picked up the cheapest bike possible as a means to hopefully save a few bucks in gas and, more importantly, get more exercise into my weekly schedule. The bike was only $70 dollars but once you factor in the other little bits that are needed to do any kind of riding, it did start to add up.

Bike Lock, $10.
Air Pump, $10
Seat Cover $15

Speaking of the seat cover, let's just go back to how I enjoyed my first, two-mile ride yesterday.

When we got the bikes, both Josh and I got locks but I picked up the air pump, figuring that the tires would need to be pumped up before we could ride, and he got a gel seat. At the time, I didn't think that the cover was necessary.

Riding after almost twenty years was a lesson in just how much I'm out of shape as well as how the construction of something as forgetful as a bike seat can cause you more than a little pain. Josh and I immediately wanted to ride over to the cemetery and back; approximately a two mile round trip. I realized about half way into the trip that my ass was hurting more than my legs. I assumed that my legs would burn because I haven't used them for that kind of work out in a while. This was a different kind of pain.

Now, not to get weird but I think that this pain stemmed from the fact that I don't have much of an ass; well, at least not now. After sitting on the bike seat for a quarter mile, I realized that somehow my pelvis (specifically, the ischia are your sitting bones. They carry all your weight when you sit down.) was not cushioned at all and I was actually getting bruises. By the time we got to the cemetery, I was almost standing up on the pedals to avoid from sitting on the seat.

So when we got home yesterday, I was in more than a little pain and my legs were alternately going numb because of the shooting pains down from my ass. We got into the house and I immediately crashed on the couch in a drip of sweat.

Riding is going to be a fun activity, but the seat is a joke. If I wanted to have a pain in my ass all summer... (yea, you can take it from there).

So now I'm nursing my bruises and waiting to wake up a little more before I head back up to Walmart.

Owie.

-T

OMG! WTF? GAS $$$ UGH.

Ok,

So I have been talking about getting a bike to ride around town this summer (and beyond) because of the rising gas prices. A few days ago I had to put some gas in my car to keep it running and it cost me $16.00 for a QUARTER tank; roughly 4 gallons. I have a small, four-cylinder car so it normally doesn't take that much to fill it up. I haven't FILLED my gas tank in months.

I have gotten into the habit of walking down to the store for groceries or odds and ends rather than jumping in the car to conserve on gas. Today, as a matter of example, I went down to the store to get a few things on foot. Josh and I then went down to campus in the car because he had to pick up a few boxes of stuff from this past quarter that would have just been too hard to carry. When we got back we walked across town to the movies; again, to conserve gas - and to preemptively burn off the calories of dinner.

On the way back from the movies we got picked up by my pal Jim to go out to the lake with his dog, Jake. It was a great time to go hang out and stuff but here's where things get interesting.

Once we were back into town, the price of gas had shot up to $4.20 a gallon for the cheap gas. When we drove down to campus around 1 p.m. it was still $3.99. I was hoping that it would stay just under four dollars for Memorial Day. I guess I was completely wrong. The oil companies knew that Memorial day would be a big travel weekend, even if it's just out to some local park for a BBQ, and are grabbing up as much money as they can.

Something also to consider, the Economic Stimulus checks that everyone is getting to help boost the economy is probably going to go directly into everyone's gas tank.

Ugh.

-T

Fluffy Muffin Taters

Must


Not


Kill.


The coffee house has been besieged by a middle-school, girls, soccer team.

My monastic mental discipline has allowed me to fend off the Urukai-like assaults to my senses, but the sheer vacuum of cogent thought is starting to suck my mind out through my right ear.

I am not sure what they're talking about, but the few syllables that break through my rapidly failing shields have formed the phrase:

Fluffy....Muffin....Taters.

I'm afraid.

-T

Denison-Trip

I'm sitting in a very nice coffee house in Granville, Ohio near Denison University. Jim and I drove up at o'dark-thirty this morning for a meeting.

The coffee house is not what one would imagine as being a traditional caffeine den as it's built within a beautiful house on a road near the river. Aptly named, it is called the River Road Coffee House.

Within five minutes of stepping through the doors I am immediately filled with sense of both longing and disappointment. I would love for Portsmouth to have such a coffee house near campus - but I don't think it will happen for several more years if at all. This place, the River Road, has a very warm and inviting atmosphere. It encourages people to spend a few hours and relax. Just from where I'm sitting, there are tables full of laptops and text books and students / professors a plenty.

Ahh... Academia.

Feels like home.

More later.
-Tom

Ancient Curse

Well, that's what it feels like sometimes.

I had plans to work in my backyard since before Finals Week. I need to haul all of the sandstone blocks that once made a retaining wall out from behind the car port and use them elsewhere.

However, since I made arrangements to borrow tools and set aside time to work on this phase in the project, it has decided to rain. Not -just- rain, but down pour. The temperature has dropped and it's stayed cool and wet which has mostly removed the idea of yard work.

One of these days I'm going to swear that my fate is the result of an Ancient Curse.

And one of these days I'll be right.

-T

Chai Goodness

So..

This morning I had to crawl out of bed early to take my cat, Cinder, to the Vet to have her fixed. I was not going to go through another Heat or another batch of kittens with her. So I was up at the crack of dawn (7:30 a.m.) to begin the cat-wrangling.

Thankfully, she often sleeps at the foot of my bed so she was easy to catch. I snuck up to her and offered her a head-scratch before I figuratively threw a black bag over her tiny head and stuffed her into the box. Well, that's what you would have thought by the noise she was making. While she yowled in her cat-crate, I tried to get myself together and get going.

Here's the interesting part:

My roommate Josh is heading to Yellowstone National Park for two weeks for a school trip. He leaves today sometime in the afternoon. They are going to drive straight through and switch out drivers as necessary. Since he's going to be one of the drivers, he stayed up late last night so that he would sleep in today. I, foolishly, stayed up with him - to a point.

With yowling cat-crate in hand, I stumbled out of the house and immediately remembered that I needed to get gas. Gas here is up to 3.79 a gallon. So while I'm not-filling up my tank, everyone around me hears the painful yowl of my cat in the carrier.

I get a few strange looks (she was yelling so loudly that she could be heard through closed car doors), but eventually got back on the road.

Dropping the cat off was much like going to a doctor's office. They ushered me into a small waiting room and asked me about this and that for the procedure.

They offered meds for the cat. They offered shots, and boosters and a number of other services even though I told them I was just there to get her fixed. The vet-tech was nice and personable but really was pushing their other services and I was only half awake so I numbly sat through her recitation of how many flavors of topical antibiotic they had. (I think she said flavors)

I just kept repeating "Just fix her..."

Once that bit of joy was finished, I was on my way back home and remembered that, as it was Friday, I was going to run by and grab some chai for my mother and I. There's only one place in Portsmouth that serves Chai - Hatti Beasleys. They're really attempting to make their shop work, but I think that it would have a better market if it was closer to the University. Right now, their only real market is the nearby Hospital and all of the "Tomb Walkers" who walk around Green Lawn Cemetery around dusk.

Well, now I'm home and I'm out on the front porch so I don't wake up Josh.

Finals are over.

I have Chai.

I'm on my laptop.

Life is sometimes not so bad.
-T

My first morning

So I was hoping to sleep in a little today, as it's my first day off, and enjoy a lazy morning.

Well, that didn't happen.

My bathroom sink has not been draining well of late and I had it on my list (actually #11) for things to tackle. This morning I hear my roommate, Josh, tell me - "Dude, the sink doesn't work".

This is Josh-speak for:

"Thomas, I believe that the drain is clogged and you may need to have it fixed more quickly than anticipated."

So I crawled out of bed and grabbed my tools and went to the basement.

I SO need a tool belt.

The problem wasn't in the main drain it was at the sink.

Now let me paint you a picture of my skill with plumbing. I have none. So I took the sink apart (yes, the whole sink) and took the various parts out to the driveway to spray it out with my garden hose. Once things were cleaned out, I put it back together (and surprisingly had no spare parts) and it works fine now.

After some breakfast, I'm going to head into my next project: Beating my driveway with a sledge hammer. It's been quite uppity lately and needs to be taught a lesson.

Later. :)

-Tom

p.s. yes, that image of the plumber's crack will haunt you for the next 30 minutes.

I'm Done

That's right,

I'm done!

Today was the day of my final exams; Psychology, Sociology and Criminology all in one day. So for six hours straight today, with only a half-hour break every two hours, I was giving, grading and posting grades.

JOY.

I've been caught up with getting things finished for the term for the past week or so (tons of papers to grade) and haven't been posting much to the blog. There really hasn't been much to publish other than "Yes, I'm -still- reading papers". So I decided to postpone any substantive post until I was finished. And now...

I'M DONE!!

God it feels good to say that so I'll say it once more.

I'M FINALLY DONE!!!

Ok, anyway.

It's not that I don't like my job. I love my job. I even like a percentage of my students. However there's something that I need to get off my chest.

There is a new form of evil in the world. Yes,

E-vil

Back in the chapters of history, we all knew this horrible concept as simply as self-important girls who attempted to twist anything and anyone to do their bidding. Oddly enough they were able to turn schools, clicks and whole athletic teams into their disciples. You all knew them. They were at your school in one form or another. Their evil was known by another name:

HEATHERS

This evil was was thought to have been destroyed and forgotten with the shoulder pads for which they were known.

Stalking the halls like an unholy quadruplet of attitude (that's At-ta-tude for those who know how to pronounce the head-shake devil language spoken only by click-chicks, drag queens and poorly acted villains of the 80's), they simply assumed that their powers of accessorization and haircare gave them ultimate authority.

Now let us move forward to college, let's say a small University. This evil has been reborn not with shoulder pads or with poofy 80's hair, but with something much much worse.

Hip Huggers

Dressed like their momma's didn't teach them how to pull up their damned pants, the evil struts their way around our campus and heads turn.

The girls want to be them.

The guys want to be WITH them.

They are the spawn of an ancient evil.

And their name is:

ASHLEY

The Ashley, they are plural and are therefor named as such, are an evil horde of women that descended up on Shawnee's campus and more to the point, my classes. I have three Ashley's in Criminology, two in Psych and one in Sociology. Each one of them is a clone of the other. They do not participate in class, when they actually bother attending. Each of them had to be told "Do not text on your phone in my class," only once. I say once, not because they stopped the behavior, but actually because they just stopped coming to class.

Only attending on test days, sometimes missing the test day completely, they routinely scored below 50% even with an in-class review of the material on the previous class and hand-outs to help them study. To me, this was their inability, or unwillingness to put forth any effort towards their classes. According to one of the Ashley:

"Grades aren't important. Life is just like High School - it's not WHAT you know but WHO you know."

So now that we were winding up the course, the Ashley attempted to once again use their powers to their own end.

This is when one Evil met another kind of Evil.

Sparks flew through the air and the ground broke apart to spew fire and death.

The Ashley met opposition and for the first time in their lives (according to the shocked looks on their faces) they were not given what they wanted.

Yes.

I crushed their widdle egos.

I ruined their widdle lives.

I failed their sorry, hoochy-momma, crack-whore-thong wearin' asses!!

And...

I'm Done!

Expect more frequent updates now that