Geez. Where do I start?
It’s been a busy week, and apologies for not blogging.
Note to self: Cheap Hotel means Dial-Up Slow-Ass Internet.
There’s been fishball noodles, beer (of course) with friends, lots of walking in humid hot weather, and family. And that’s just the usual stuff.
Dot’s walked into doors (again). Dot and Jay’s foray into cheap hoteling can yield enough stories for a “How Not-To Visit Singapore” book.
Where do I start?
You’ll want to stay tuned.
Once I’m back with a DSL connection, I’ll be back on a roll. (With a not-to-be-missed story on what REALLY happened in Room 9-07.)
Packing is always easier with a Drink in hand.
Thank you, Drink, for making it easier for me to forget underwear, toiletries, and assorted stuff that I will need.
Thank you, Drink, for making me trip over my right Birkenstock as I look for the left one.
Thank you, Drink, for making the hours TO the flight go a lot faster, when all I need is the hours DURING the flight to zip by.
Why do humans turn to Drink at the moments they usually need the most Clarity?
If you see a Hello Kitty T-shirt clad, profuse sweat-ee with a Seattle Mariners cap wandering the streets of Singapore, please tap her on the shoulder and say, “You shouldn’t have had that drink, you know.”
For the first time in his life (or maybe not), Jay was speechless.
At the sight of this portrait.
That I commissioned for his 31st birthday.
That I had to give him early because we will be flying over the Pacific Ocean on his birthday.
Headed to Singapore.
I asked Lisa Fossenâ€â€who created the Christmas Poopsicles I adoredâ€â€to do the illustration.
I gave her photos of Jay and 10 facts about him. She sketched this on a piece of wood.
Don’t ask me how the Hello Kitty wound up on the piece. I really have no idea.
Jay is still spooked. He says it’s really weird to see yourself in an illustration.
I’m not sure if that means he likes it.
When I ask him if it is okay to put it up on the blog, he says, “You’re always writing about me.”
“But you’re my muse.”
So Happy Birthday, Jay The Muse.
I hope you know I really, really, really like you.
We finally unpacked this gem a few days ago.
This is an actual Singapore street sign that I totally coerced my family to bid on in an online auction several years ago.
This is only one of TWO in the country. (I should know, I’ve lived on that street my whole life.)
And now, it is probably the ONLY sign safely shipped to the US by my dear parents, who must have raised many eyebrows at the United Airlines counter when they tried to check this baby in.
“No sir, not a flat golf club. No, not a plank. It’s a sign. Yes, a street sign that my crazy daughter in the US wanted us to buy and send over. Yes sir. I’m not joking, sir.”
Since moving into our new abode, Jay and I came up with several names for our “darling” 1901 bungalow.
After several misstepsâ€â€The Hamptons, anyone?â€â€we settled on HDB.
It’s kinda funny, in a funny sick kinda way.
At least I’m home when I come home, wherever that may be.
Oh oh.
Big mistake.
Mention Kinko’s and “I’ll make some namecards there” in the same breath to your husband-designer is a death wish.
“Dot, you insulted me,” Jay said. “That’s like having a mechanic for a husband and saying you’re taking your car in for repairs at the shop.”
“But I know you’re super busy and I didn’t want to bother you!”
Designer (Diva) Jay was having none of it.
“Hrmph,” he hrmphed.
The Moral of Today’s Story is: Marry a mechanic. Save money.
I still get a kick out of saying whatever I want.*
I have to remind myself you can do that here.
I mean, can you imagine a sticker about LKY in Singapore? Any sticker?
Uh-huh.
I thought so.
*Although these days, saying whatever you want is not particularly encouraged under this Administration.
I am Tired and Uninspired.
I must have written 10 versions of the same story and deleted them all at work today. They were terrible! T.E.R.R.I.B.L.E.
Ever have days like that?
And then you come home and see this AWESOME fan and think, “Why wasn’t I the one making millions of dollars on this KICKASS design?
If ONE schmuck paid US$45 for a toy fan (that doesn’t really blow very well), then ONE MILLION schmucks paid like, er, US$45 gadzillion million for a toy fan (that doesn’t really blow very well). Note to designer: Her bow gets in the way.
What happens when you can’t do what you’re supposed to do?
Does my employer get a discount for my lack of ability today? Do I decide to become a Hello Kitty fan repairman today?
Or do I return to the blank screen and try again tomorrow?
“I don’t have 100 friends,” I said to Jay when we attended a funeral today, where at least 200 packed the church to say goodbye to Jay’s mom’s cousin’s husband.
“Who’s going to come to my funeral?”
I don’t do well at funerals. Throw in rousing string music and emotional eulogies, and I’m a wreck.
It was evident that Hugh touched many lives. They all came to celebrate him todayâ€â€his extended family, his friends, his peers, the people he helped.
I remember him as a gentleman, always spiffily dressed, highly intelligent, a great observer. I learned today it probably had a lot to do with his training as a psychiatrist. I also learned he was an avid duck hunter, related to THE Emily Dickinson, and somehow tied to the ConAgra behemoth. (None of which I was aware of when he was alive.)
Who did I help?
If you “AutoSummarized” my life, what would you get?
I wrote, I blogged, I loved Jay and Hello Kitty.
Would 100 people show up at my funeral? What would they say?
She wrote, she blogged, she loved Jay and Hello Kitty.
And she made me laugh.
Did you miss me? Did ya?
I missed me.
I missed the sound of my own pompous voice resounding loudly and emptily in cyberspace.
(This is where you chime in and say, “No, Dot, it’s not that loud.”)
I have no idea what happened.
I have no idea what mySQL is.
Sounds like a measure of my intelligence, but I think it was more a measure of my blog’s heart rate.
Or lack of.
No SQL, No Blog.
Jay tried to explain what happened, but I lost him after, “There’s this database…”
But I do know the three DC Dudes spent all morning fixing the problem. (As you can tell from Jay’s previous post.)
Whatever you three didâ€â€even if it was just hitting the server with a bat or caressing the screenâ€â€know that it’s much appreciated.
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