Message Garners Response

Finally someone responded to a message on these dating sites. In this case it took about 10 messages to get 1 reply. And this was a great win because on this secular site, I don't think I've ever read a better profile. Not a single red flag anywhere, and she is extremely attractive. So I got a response, very quickly, and wrote back. As I waited for a second reply I went to the other site where she said she had a profile to see if I would still have written her based on this other profile. And I what I found was very interesting.

She is a devout Catholic, who goes to daily Masses, and her statements about what she is looking for in a guy couldn't be more in accord with the Church's teaching of the purpose of relationships in general. So all good there. She wants children but doesn't have any yet, has never been married, is exceptionally attractive, has a good job, works out every other day, likes dogs, lives nearby, and is very well educated. She doesn't drink or smoke, and does not "party".

However, on this other dating site, a Catholic one, I noticed her relationship status was a little different than the one on the secular site. On the secular site, she wrote, and truthfully so, 'never married'. On the Catholic site, she wrote 'annulled'. At first, still a little overwhelmed by the positives of everything else, this didn't bother me in the least. I actually wrote her a second time to say that I went to this other site to see if I still would have written and said I would have. I made no mention of any of the particulars I found there. As for the annulment I figured, whatever happened in her past, in the eyes of God as I believe in my Catholic faith, she was never married. She may have experienced a ceremony, and lived with her man for a time, but sacramentally she was never married. As the day went on I wanted to see if I could find anything else out about her. Like maybe she had a facebook page that wasn't secured, or maybe a blog. I don't think of this as creepy, I think of this as middle school crush. Anyway, I found two articles about her. One was her engagement announcement and the other was her wedding announcement. These two things bothered me a great deal.

 

Sure, sacramentally speaking, in the eyes of God the marriage never happened. But to everyone involved she experienced all the things that lead up to it. The falling in love, the engagement, the announcement, the ceremony, and then the reception. And I realized those are things I would really like both myself and my future wife (here's hoping), to experience for the first time together. Okay, I know it is crazy to think about marriage when I haven't even met this girl, but it got me thinking, and I wasn't sure what to make of it. Deep down I felt this was all stupid. I was discrediting all those amazing things about her because of this one thing. Like a potential life time of good times, was not going to happen because I wouldn't let this temporally small thing in the grand scheme of things go. But still I was stuck.

Knowing it is usually best not to let myself dwell too much on any topic, I thought I should just take it up to prayer and said a Hail Mary. Immediately, I came to a solution. I thought about Mary. Here was a young woman who was going to marry a man who already was married, and probably at that point a widower with children of his own. And from what I can tell it didn't bother her in the least. And after reflecting on that, I decided that I too should not let this be a deal breaker, and was able to move on and continue to hope that she would indeed reply to my responses to her.

Of course, she never did respond and I got myself worked up all for nothing.

One Way to Increase Temperatures

Okay, I’m giving you two in one day because I know some of you probably barfed at that last post. Shame on you, but Sunday is supposed to be a happy day, so let’s see if I can amuse you with this story.

My parents came to visit me yesterday. Visit isn’t the correct word though. They came to do “projects” in my new apartment. Mom, who had decided she was going to decorate my entire guest bathroom, had a ton of products she needed to get in there, and Dad wanted to install a number of shelves that both he and Mom felt were necessary for me to have in my laundry room and coat closet. Additionally, Dad wanted to move my thermostat. The thermostat is in the middle of a wall where I want to put my book case.

When they got here, Dad turned on golf, or rather he grabbed my three remote controls and stabbed at the buttons until I went over and helped him get the TV and golf on, and then he turned to the thermostat. He got it opened up and pulled on it till the main cable came out. The main cable houses five little wires, and these five little wires plug into the thermostat. Dad’s idea was to buy another 3 or so feet of cable, unwire the 5 little wires from the thermostat, splice them into the 3 footer, and then wire the 3 footer into the thermostat. Splicing is where you take two wires and twists the ends together to make one long wire. So essentially he just wanted to extend the amount of cable he had to work with so that it would be easier to move the thermostat to the side of the wall. Then I’d be able to put my book case against the wall.

But he ran into a problem. The five little wires were really plugged in hard into the thermostat. So hard he couldn’t get them out. So he resorted to cutting the cable. Now the idea was to place his 3 footer between his cut. So he had to do two splice jobs. Stay with me, I know this can be hard to picture from just my text. But basically he did that, and now he’s got one really long cable.

Uh-oh

What’s happened.

The thermostat isn’t turning back on.

Let me look at it.

And I looked at it. Dad seemed to have done a good job. I couldn’t detect anything wrong with his work. But the thermostat wouldn’t come back on. Then Dad thought about what he had done. He hadn’t bothered to turn off the power to the thermostat because he thought it didn’t draw enough voltage to hurt him. I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Just because something doesn’t have a lot of voltage it could draw a lot of current, and I think it’s current that gets you more than voltage. But either way, he hadn’t turned off the power and he thinks that when he cut the cable he blew a fuse in the air-conditioning unit which is in the furnace room.

For those of you who rent apartments, in my experience I almost never have access to the furnace room. So now we had to call the apartment and see if they could get us into my furnace room. I went down to the office and asked if a maintenance worker could come up and get me in the furnace closet. The man said none were available but that he could try if he had the key. That was not what I wanted. The last thing I wanted was for the managers to find out about what had happened. But I was stuck so I said okay. My idea was that maybe Dad could stand in front of the thermostat, which was now hanging on the ground due to his 3 foot extension, and the manager wouldn’t see it.

The manager walked over and I had driven and I made it back before he did, and ran in to tell Dad my plan. Dad said I should just tell him what I did. I said no way, and mocked him as a business man. I said you never ever show your full hand in cards. Let the manager come up with a key to the furnace room and just say we think a fuse is blown. There is absolutely no reason at this point to tell him what we did. So he comes up, and at the door he says he realized he doesn’t have the proper key, and the maintenance worker is out of town, so it won’t be until Monday that someone can help me get into the furnace room.

(Me) Oh that’s okay. I’ll just open a window, thanks for coming by and enjoy the rest of your weekend.

(Him) No problem. Have a great day.

(Dad) Why don’t you come in here and see what we did?

Great, thank you Dad. I had no choice but to let him in. He walked over to Dad and Dad explained the situation. He seemed fine about it, he didn’t make any faces or show anger in his voice. In fact he wanted to talk more about the golf we had on rather than the fact that my thermostat in my less than a month old brand new construction apartment was hanging on the floor from a double splice job, done by a tenant, and has apparently broken the air-conditioning unit.

On Monday, I am scheduled to meet with someone who will have the key to the furnace room. On Monday I will be wearing a tie all day, in the hopes that by looking a little distinguished, perhaps I won’t get thrown out of my apartment. Either way, Monday will be a very interesting day.

Diamond in the Rough

There are many types of Catholic Masses. To be sure they are similar, but just as Doritos and steak are similar in that they are foods, there are many varieties of Catholic Masses. A rosary is essentially 50 Hail Marys, and other prayers mixed in. But the Rosary said on Tuesday is very different from the one said on Wednesday. Only at the most superficial level can they be said to be the same. And the same is true of Catholic Masses. I have been to many types over the years. By far the absolute best is the Easter Vigil. Nothing really can compare to it in my opinion because it’s the best mixture of modern day refinements mixed with the ancient rites. For example, take an old house. Old houses have character, and some people love them for that. But no one wants to live in an old house that hasn’t been updated with air conditioning or proper electrical fixtures. For me the Vigil is like the old house that has been modernized. It’s the best of both worlds.

Anyway, despite having been to many types of Masses over the years this Friday I found myself at something completely different from anything I’ve ever experienced. In fact it was so different that the Doritos / steak example no longer applies. It’d have to be X / steak, where now there is a question as to whether or not X is a food. I got to the Church around 6:40 AM for a 7:15 Mass and Confession. The drive to the Church took me through a very run down area of town. At that hour of the morning it seemed quite peaceful but there were subtle signs that betrayed the peaceful demeanor. A bit of graffiti here, someone sleeping on a chair over there. And in the middle of it was this Church. I got there at the same time as an older lady, who had a mantilla in her hand. Mantilla’s seem to be making a comeback, enough that I don’t notice them as much anymore, maybe 1 in a thousand now, and she was older so I thought on it even less. Then I got into the Church and right away you can’t help but feel like you’ve just walked into a 3D masterpiece. Everywhere the eye’s looked was a photograph. And happily, right smack dab in the middle where it belonged was the tabernacle. A good sign. I sat down and started noticing the smaller details. The Church faced East. The altar seemed small in width and pushed back up against the tabernacle. There was a communion rail. As people came in the men and women seemed to be a little more dressy than is typical, particularly for a daily Mass, and every female young and old wore a mantilla. Then it struck me that this Church kept to the pre-Vatican II reforms.

About that time it was time for Confession. I got to go first, and had another new experience (just seeing that old style Church was the first new experience). It was in the closets like you see in the movies. I had to kneel and talk to a screen that was a curtain between me and Priest, who was in his own closet. I kept playing with the screen because I didn’t like the separation. In the end he gave me 3 decades to say. I think I upset him, because he was like “Pray 1 . . . pray 3 decades . . .”, but that was a good thing, it was a sign of holiness or in this case holy anger. Like, “in the past two weeks you just back slapped the love of my life, multiple times, you’ve got some making up to do.” I then went back out and waited for Mass to begin. And sure enough it was something radical.

The Priest had his back to us the entire time because he faced the tabernacle, and spoke entirely in Latin. I didn’t catch a single word, not because I don’t understand Latin very well, but because he spoke so incredibly fast that I couldn’t make out a single word, not one the entire Mass, excepting when he addressed my directly when I received the Eucharist, and we never said the Our Father, made a sign of peace, and there was no Homily. And it was wonderful. But I’m not saying it should ever become the norm again. No, I like the modern day “improvements”, but some things may be worth bringing back. For example, the Priest having his back turned to us. That’s one way of looking at it, but the better way of thinking about it is that he was turned to God. We live in this self-centered entitled culture, and here for the entire Mass the Priest had his back turned to us. Few things are more insulting than when someone turns there back on you, and this is what happened. But in reality he turned his back on us because he was turning to God to worship with us. It was great, and that may be worth bringing back. But the rest was a bit much. At least give us a homily, some word of encouragement in our own language. One things for sure though, I bet they have the best music on Sundays.

Still I couldn’t help feel sad the entire time. This Church really is a masterpiece, and it was built in the 50s. At that time, it was probably the focal point of the community, which was also probably very nice. But now the community had degraded so much that driving back at 7:40 AM, I thought I witnessed a crime, and felt that I would feel at risk if I dressed in anything more fashionable than jean shorts and a white t-shirt. The Church spoke of a much happier time, when that community had thrived and built that masterpiece. And so sitting there at that early hour with the others, watching the priest with his back turned, I hoped that when he leaved the Church to go about his day, he turned back to us. As though he started the day turning to God for strength, and now he’s ready to turn back to us. There’s great beauty in that.

Tennis Elbow Meets Tiger Eye

While at the club house last Saturday, I noticed a flyer for another tennis clinic that was hosting a tennis tournament.  Wondering if it offered clinics, I gave it a call and the receptionist said they didn't but that a coach comes who does and that I should call him.  That confused me a little.  If the coach gives clinics at the tennis center, in my mind that means the tennis center offers clinics.  But I just took the phone number and called the coach.
The coach, named Curtis, spoke fast and sounded a lot like Traey Jordan, the character on 30 Rock.  Basically he said he does advanced adult clinics Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, from 6 - 7:30 for $30 and then we can keep playing afterwards.  So it's an hour and a half of class and then he pairs us up with one another for match play.  It's on clay and the courts cost $12 an hour so it's a great deal.  Still a little confused, but thinking $30 a time is a lot better than $100 per month + $21 per time, I decided to attend the Monday session.
Driving there Monday evening I noticed I was heading into a poor area of town.  In my experience tennis seems to be a prep sport for the wealthy, so as I headed into poorer and poorer areas I started wondering about this tennis center.  Eventually I came to a park and saw a bunch of clay tennis courts.  The tennis center was actually a park district.  Now the receptionists odd response about the center not offering clinics made a little more sense.  Getting out of the car I made my over to group of people, sitting at a picnic table holding racquets, who reminded me of a scene from Rocky 3 (please forgive the clip and it's overlayed music, it's the best I could find.  Just go watch the movie if you shamefully haven't already).

Fortunately, everyone was very nice and welcoming.  They were also good players.  So from 6:20 (they couldn't have moved slower to start) until 7:30 we Curtis gave a lesson and then from 7:30 until 8:45 I played matches.  At that point I felt it was time to go.  I was the first to leave.  It was 95 degrees out and I was told they meet everyday and that I should come again the next day.  I was also told by Curtis that I was going to be on the team and that I had to come Friday to meet with another coach who would hit with me for an hour.  At no point was I told what this team was, or asked if I wanted to join.  I was simply told I would be on the team and to be there Friday.  Finally, it was time to pay, and to my delight I found it wasn't $30 per day, it was $30 per week.  So even though I felt very much like Steve Martin the entire time (please somebody get that reference), it was a great evening.

Susie Q in Your Bathroom

Tasteful thurday is a while off yet, but maybe we can make this a Malleable Monday.  This time around, I went with a two bedroom apartment.  I'm still not sure why I made this decision, but I did.  Maybe a part of it was that my original one bedroom apartment was so large that it was impossible to find anything in this new town that size without going to the two bedroom format.  But while that second bedroom would make an awesome study, instead I'm going to treat it as a bedroom.  That means I need to furnish it, and it's full bathroom, and find places to put my old furniture that simply do not fit in my now much smaller living room.

One major problem with the new apartment is the tremendous lack of space and the seriously questionable design considerations.  For example, there is a fantastic wall in the living room where my bookcase could go.  But right in the middle of this wall, the electricians installed my thermostat.  That should have been placed on the side of the wall, now the entire wall is ruined and I have to move it myself.  And yes I'm going to actually try moving it and the wires myself.  There are just so many things like this, little things, that add up and it just makes the whole layout entirely questionable and head scratching.

However, rather than nitpick, I want to talk about shower curtains.  In my opinion they are very important.  Basically they are like an extra wall that you're trying to decorate in full.  They're these big rectangular pieces that have decorations.  And I have some concerns with them.  For example, in smaller bathrooms, I feel shower curtains can really enclose the space and make it feel even tighter.  This is because they do act like a wall of sorts and if the bath tub is let's say a foot and a half wide, that brings the wall a foot and a half closer.  While inside the tub, if there is not an overhead light in the tub, shower curtains will block a certain amount of light from the bathroom lights.  So if a dark material is chosen the bathing area will be dark, and some people, like me, may not like this atmosphere.  I like things bright.  Also a dark material will make the entire bathroom darker when you're not in the tub.  However, a shower curtain does not have to be pulled out when it's not in use.  So this can fix both the darkened bathroom on the outside of the tub and the enclosed space problem.  But they usually come with a decoration and just having it pulled in may look weird or be dissapointing if the design is meant to be showed off.  For me, I like designs that are simple and light.  Here are the two I considered and I wound up getting the second one for the guest bathroom.  In my own bathroom I just have a simple vinyl liner with some leaves on it.  It's great but apparently no longer made, so I had to get something new for the guest bathroom.  The light blue is my contrast against the toupe walls and brown mirror frame.

The rings are also important.  If you get a shower curtain you may also need to get a vinyl liner.  But clipping both in the rings is a huge bother.  And maybe the rings don't nicely glide along the curtain rod.  Fortunately there is a solution to both these problems which was solved by Moen.

Look at those little guys; they look like a popular ladies hairstyle in the 50s.  But they're amazing.  Finally and maybe most importantly, while some may not like your choice in shower curtains, everyone will most certainly be put off by unclean shower curtains.  Mold can grow, both on the vinyl liners and the curtains.  Most are treated nowadays to prevent mold from growing, but that doesn't mean mold grow over the years.  So when you see it, throw it in the wash. 

Side Of A House Works Just As Well

Week two showed a little more progress in terms of getting out and about.  For example, today I went to a new Church.  Unfortunately, like last time, the tabernacle was no where in sight.  And while there was an extremely attractive girl whom I saw as I was leaving, she was with younger people which made it difficult for me to determine her age.  That's a really difficult problem when it comes to trying to meet people.  Like I may see a person, guy or girl, and want to strike up a conversation and later find out I'm talking to an 18 year old.  Now there's nothing wrong with that at all, just talking to people, but it puts a major block on just asking people out.  Like I cannot just go up to a random person at a grocery store, and ask a girl out only to find she is really young and just picking something up for her parents.  That would just be terrible and I would probably have to go to the hospital when my body stops functioning.  So the trick in that situation is to be a bit of a creep and try to make sure that the lady is older.  Like maybe she has an alcoholic product in her buggie.  Or something like that.  Anyway, these are just some things to think about if you're going to just go and try approaching random people on the street or at Church.  Oh well, next week I'll try yet another Church in my quest to find one with a tabernacle where I can see it.  For all my non-Catholic readers who do not know what I'm talking about, I would be perfectly fine with this tabernacle:

Speaking of images, this is the first one I've uploaded since the new blogger design and it's so much better than before.  Before I had to hand edit a bunch of html code in order to get them where I wanted.

Anyway back on topic.  Today I also went to a tennis center to inquire about their clinics.  On the way there I passed by a driveway that had a brick fence and immaculate landscaping, which snaked through some woods off to some mansion I imagined.  I started thinking this tennis center must be nice if hidden mansions are in the neighborhood.  Then I realized I missed my turnoff.  That driveway was the entrance to the tennis center.  This "tennis center" was actually more like some sort of sport center resort.  It had everything from a heated outdoor pool, to those types of classy locker rooms that scream English refinement.  So in short the place was very nice.  But I just wanted to play some tennis and when I got a view of the required membership fees I decided this was not the place for me.  And for more than just the money.  See I am allowed to participate in a discrete amount of tennis clinics as a non-member.  And the thing about the clinics is you have to call ahead of time and register because if not enough people sign up then they don't hold the clinic.  Yesterday I called and asked to be in this morning's clinic.  And just 8:00 this morning I got a call saying not enough people had signed up so the clinic was canceled.  Now if I were a paying member and I heard this I would be really upset.  I don't want to pay $100 a month, on top of the cost of participating in the clinic which is $21, just to find out the one thing I want to do is canceled.  So I asked the clubs representative who was showing me around if this sort of thing is typical.  She said in the summer time a lot of people are on vacation and that the tennis program experiences a lull in signups.  But in August it picks back up.  That was not what I wanted to hear.  Because in August school starts up.  So if tennis picks up it's because the types of people who are playing it are families.  I don't want to meet families.  So this palace of sports is a no-go.  But there may be others that offer clinics.  Not that I've found any yet, but maybe something will turn up.

Then the other day I got an e-mail from a dating site saying I'd get a discount if I signed up that day.  Well I've done this before and had absolutely no good things to report about it at all.  None.  But I decided to sign up anyway for the 3 month period for the price of a new video game.  Sigh.  So far I've written 6 women.  Two have read my e-mail, and of those one actually looked at my profile after reading it.  I kind of was excited about her too, she reminded me a bit of number 13 from House.  I've also had one wink from an Agnostic 25 year old whose 'for fun' section includes " judo chopping people when I'm drunk."  Positively she is a social worker who specializes in child abuse, so that's good, but I'm going just be flattered by the wink and keep looking.

Japanese for Good Morning

For a week and a day now, I've been living under a new roof, and there has been a flurry of activity.  There are just so many things to do, and most of it involves unpacking.  Things are different here, but not all are for the worse.  For example, I seem to be in the ice-cream capital of the world.  All of my favorite brands are back, with more flavors and sizes.

As far as social activites go, I'm still scoping the area out.  Tonight, I may be playing tennis.  It looks like a fun event, however it is expensive.  About 7 dollars more than I'm used to for one hour less time.  Okay maybe 7 dollars isn't that much, but week after week it adds up.  Plus there are more than one tennis event per week that look interesting.  Church this Saturday past had a Priest that gave a borderline perfect homily but a strike out on single folks in general.  But I don't know how much more I'll be going back because the sanctuary (that's the place where the Priest walks around) had no tabernacle.  In fact it was no where in sight.  It was in a separate room in it's own special Chapel.  That got me mad, because I felt like I walking into an empty house, and I had no idea where to genuflect and all those little things that are based on Jesus being actually in the room.  And any Church that decided to put Him in His own little room off to the side is circumspect in my eyes regardless of how nice the homily was.  We don't put Baby in a corner.  But anyway, rant aside, there is a university Church somewhat nearby to try.

There's two more things worth mentioning.  Yesterday in the parking lot I ran into a co-worker who has been at this office for about three years, and used to sit in the same office I just moved from.  We hadn't seen each other yet (this new building is large), and stopped to chat.  She said she is moving back to where I just came from and is going to work from home.  After three years she hasn't made any real good group of friends and has found it really difficult to find social activities where she could meet people.  And she is tired of going out by herself all the time.  Well that didn't instill a great deal of hope in me.  But I guess it's good to know what I've gotten myself into, and makes it all the more necessary for me to stick my hand out and say "hi".

The second thing is that despite that letdown I still have plans to meet people.  In particular, I have a few old friends who live nearby.  No, I couldn't be so fortunate as to have people I like living in the same city as me, that would be too much, but, unlike my old residence, now my nearest friends are only an hour to an hour and a half away, rather than two and a half to three hours.  And I've been contacting them one-by-one.  One person I contacted is one of those friends that became my friend after we cooked a little.  Like we weren't besties in high school and certainly not elementary school, but we seemed to click at the reunions since high school graduation, as though it was a maturity thing.  So anyway, she is married but she is a friend and in a way this works better because by not being single we can just be friends and not worry about all those emotional things that come when two people are single and looking.  But while I do actually like her company, there is a benefit.  She happens to have connections.  It turns out she is way up in a particular chain of stores that can be found at most malls that sell ladies under clothing.  I could name the place, but I don't like how companies find me (look at the keyword in the link).  So maybe she happens to know some single ladies that would be just right for me.

Sarge's Day

Yesterday was memorial day.  And today we remember Sarge's Day.  Everyone say happy birthday Sarge!

A few weekends ago I went to Kansas to visit my favorite people, a few old friends from my undergraduate days, the Italian nuns.  Only one knew I was actually coming.  The way it worked is that they were hosting a weekend long celebration (when they party they tend to go all out), and I thought then would be as good a time as any to visit.  Since graduation, I've only seen two of them, and haven't really spoken to any of them.  Which I realize is rather lame considering that I just said these are my favorite people, but it was still a big deal for me to go see them.  Like I have dreams about seeing them.  In my undergraduate years, I was friends with the lot of them, but I also met one-on-one for spiritual direction with their mother superior.

So I showed up in Kansas, about an hour late, and merged into the large group of people unbeknownst to them.  Eventually I went up to Sr. Susan (the only non-Italian at the time), my old director, and said hi and gave her a big hug.  Having her hands full and rushing off to the next stage of the party, she didn't know who I was at first, and just said hi, thanks for the hug.  But then she recognized me and basically erupted with joy.  She then pulled me into a room full of strangers and said, "everyone this is my friend I haven't seen in 8 years."  Then she looked at me and simply said "share".  So I had to talk in front of a room of strangers what I had been up to the past 8 years.  It was a bit embarrassing, and I rambled a lot, but Sr. Susan had a hard time putting sentences together at first, so I think all in all it went okay  A little later I went and said hi to Sr. Clara, who I taught English to when she came to America many years ago.  She is a little more animated than Sr. Susan, and she too didn't recognize me at first.  But when she did, if Sr. Susan erupted, she exploded.

On Saturday, they invited me over to dinner at their place with the other nuns and the girls who are thinking about joining.  I can't get anyone to respond to me on the dating sites, but I can get dinner with 9 unavailable girls no problem.  Before dinner we had to get their house ready for the final party on Sunday, and I was asked to help with some yard work.  I started whistling that tune to Lilies of the Field, and they started singing.  But only Sr. Susan, the American, got the joke.  The others knew the song, but hadn't seen the movie.  Sr. Susan was displeased by this, so hopefully she'll lay down the law and force them to watch it.  Anyway, once I finished what I had to do, I noticed they had a lot of wild onions growing in their flower garden, and I set to picking them.  During this time, Sr. Clara walked by.  Think of a young women, maybe late 30s early 40s, whose short with dark hair, and speaks very good but Italian-accented English.

Sr. Clara you've got too many weeds growing in your flower garden.

Really?

Yes, you see these?  These are weeds.  They are called wild onions.

No, these aren't weeds.  They are food.

No, sister you don't want to eat these, these are no good.

No, you see the bottom, that's the onion.

Yes, but you don't eat that.

No?

No, they are weeds, these aren't onions to eat.

Oh, but they have a pretty blue flower.

No, no, they aren't flowers either.  They're weeds.

But the flower is pretty.

Sister dandelions have pretty yellow flowers but they are weeds.

Haha, that is true!  But, mmmm (smelling sound), they smell good.

Sister, they do not smell good!

No, look here at the bottom, they smell.

Yes, they smell, but they are not good smelling.  These are weeds, you're supposed to pick these.

Oh, I see.  Okay, I'll help you pick them.

Okay good.  Now look here, you see how I removed a bunch of them?

Yes?

Well it looks really good now.  It took a little amount of effort and the result looks really good.

Uh-huh.

Well let's learn some more English.  We say, "I got a bang for my buck."

"Bang for your buck."

No, no.  You want to say, "I got a bang for my buck."

Ah, okay.

Do you understand it?

No.

Think of when you wash a dirty or dusty white surface.  It looks so much better when it's clean.

Uh-huh.

And now think of a brown surface that you wash.  It doesn't look any better.

Ahh, yes, I understand.

Later that night.

Sisters this new house of yours is amazing.  I still can't get over it.

Sr. Lory:  I liked our old house.

Everyone else:  Ahhh! (the place could only charitably be called hovelish)

Sr. Lory:  No really, the only part I didn't like was the kitchen floor tile.  No matter how many times I washed it, it never looked clean.

Sr. Clara:  Yes, you didn't get a good bang for your buck.

Wheeling and Dealing

Jaguars have always grabbed my attention. The cats are awesome, but in this case I mean the cars. There’s something about Xj6/8 models that just scream British class. The outside model looks beautiful and it has that wonderful “leaper” emblem that jumps off the hood. The insides are also stunning, and have a ton of leg room in the back and even picnic tables. The picnic tables are like the trays that are on the seat in front of you in airplanes, except these are too small to be of any use. But it’s still cool to see them there. Another neat feature is that they had only one wiper blade. It was these sorts of subtle details that made the car a standout amongst the others in its class. The others tend to do 1 or 2 of 3 things right. The three being, exterior, interior and engine. And generally only the jaguar gets the exterior right in my book.

I had always wanted one, and a few years ago for fun I decided to look on Craigslist and see if any were for sale. At this point I had no knowledge of Jaguars other than that I thought they looked very nice. I didn’t even know there were multiple models. There are three if you’re curious. And I was looking for fun, because I thought they were going to be very expensive. At the time this was my first time of ever looking to purchase a car. So I had really no idea about prices, and all the other things that go into a purchase.

So I was rather surprised when not only did I find one going for what seemed a very reasonable price but also really close to where I live. The listed price was for something like $8000. When I went to look at the car the sale sign on it said $7000. But I was sold at $8000. The car was beautiful. I had never seen one up close and it was amazing. Then I got to drive it and I was astounded at how wonderful it felt and handled. I had been in other “luxury” cars and they weren’t even close to this experience. To me the car felt like an old man who is confident in his abilities but doesn’t feel a need to show them off. If necessary he will display all his might and muscle, but otherwise he is happy to just remain at peace. The other models I was in were more like teenagers, who have their flavor of the week music always on loud, and want to instantly go from 0 to 100 back to 0 again. They were a jerky mess, with the exterior and sometimes interior stylings associated with the fads of the youth.

Clearly I wanted to purchase the car. But I already had a mini-van. But this was no ordinary mini-van. This was the 1998 Honda Odyssey. That model came out in 95, and it was, in my mind, revolutionary. The van had 4 doors, which in 95 was unheard of. And they opened like car doors, not those sliders that we still find today. It had power windows, not the push out ones found in vans back then. It had a 6-CD changer, and sun roof. Sure it wasn’t masculine but it was still awesome, and it handled great. But it was time to say bye to it. I had put on a ton of miles and it was starting to experience some mechanical problems.

The man who sold me the Jaguar wanted to purchase the van from me as a mother’s day gift for his Mom. He drove it for a short while and made me an offer. The conversation went like this:

Him: What would you like for this van?

Me: I haven’t given it much thought yet, so how about you make me an offer?

$500

No way. This van is worth more than that.

$800.

No, I haven’t gotten a price in mind yet, but that is much too low.

Make me an offer then after you’ve thought about it.

…sometime later …

Okay, I would like $1800 for it.

I will give you $1500.

Okay. I will think on it, tonight and let you know tomorrow.

…after much thought that night…

Hi, I will sell you the car for $2000.

Wait, I thought you had said $1800 yesterday.

Well, I thought about it and decided it really is worth $3000, and I’m going to put it on Craigslist. But to if you save me the hassle of having to deal with all that, I’ll give it to you for $2000.

What about that $1800 price?

No, it’s $2000.

So you won’t sell it to me for $1800?

No. That was the price yesterday. Today is a brand new day. The car is worth $3000, I will sell it to you for $2000. It’s a great deal you should take it.

Okay, I’ll take it.

….

Later that night we both had misgivings. In my blinded by love moment, I quickly learned that this Jaguar was going to cost me in terms of necessary upkeep. And when I called him up to ask about one issue in particular I was seeing, he said he felt hustled by me. Apparently he found out that the transmission was about shot in the van. Well we both played the fool, and were both taken. Still despite all the problems I had with the Jaguar over the years, I would still love to have another. But not this recent bunch. Shame on them. They took that beautiful-classy design and it turned it into another run of the mill looking sport car.

Hopefully From Ill to Oh Much Better

What a wreck. I'm gone for just a little while and I see that the dialogs used to write these posts have completely changed. They were working just fine before and now I have to learn how all of this works. Fortunately the blog itself still looks great. Although sadly one of my links to a wonderful website no longer works because that website no longer exists.

Repetition tends to be the way for me. Sunday after Sunday, bead after bead on the Rosary, and Frosted Mini-wheats Monday through Sunday. Change can be fine, I just like being informed well in advance, in writing and in person, with a demonstration and justification. Unless of course I initiate the change. Then it can be spontaneous. For example, maybe on Wednesday (hey that's today!) I decide to have Frosted Flakes instead of Frosted Mini-wheats. As for when others implement a change that affects (did I get that right, affect vs effect?) me then I want those guidelines followed. For example, in early Feburary I learned that the office I work in will be closing at the end of June. That was a nice 4 month advance notice which was given in person and later in writing. The justification was totally lame, but one was given. And the demonstration is the fiasco currently being played out by the company in the city where I will be moving.

So yes, work gave me the choice, I can relocate or I can find new work. I took the relocation option. There is work available where I currently live but after some thought, moving seemed like the best choice. And so right around July I am heading off to be much closer to home. Just last Wednesday I sold the Jaguar and signed a lease with the new apartment. Leaving where I currently live will likely be the hardest part of the move. Where I live is best described as a country club, and nothing where I will be moving comes close. But I believe I was given a sign from above in finding the new apartment. The complex allows pets, and during my first trip out there, while in the leasing office I looked out the window and saw a Basset Hound being walked. I sort of made a small scene when I saw this. Additionally I will now be able to easily walk to work, and I will be the first tenent in the particular apartment I have selected.

Raphael's Beauty

There was a study done recently by the Washington Post. A very talented violinist who gets $110 a ticket for his performances, played in a New York City subway. The violinist proceeded to play the songs he was going to play later that night at a concert. The songs are supposedly some of the greatest and most challenging violin songs known and the violin he was playing with is worth over 3 million dollars. The study was to see if anyone would stop and listen.

After he finished playing it turns out that no one stopped for more than about half a minute. And the only ones who really appeared intrigued were the children who were dragged away by their parents. He made about $30 from people dropping money to him.

The study supposedly gives us insight into how people perceive beauty. No one seemed to realize the fact that one of the world's greatest violin players, with one of the most beautiful violins in the world, was playing the most beautiful violin songs right in front of them. I suppose a lot of conclusions could be drawn here. But I think too much is being read into this study. First off beauty is really hard to objectively define. It is extremely subjective. However, there do seem to be some universally accepted themes of beauty. Such as a beautiful sunny day with green grass. I doubt many if any people are going to argue that they tend to prefer overcast days with brown grass.

In the case of the violinist I think part of the problem is that more likely than not, most of the passerbys in the subway had no way of appreciating the music. Everyone can appreciate a sunny day. But not everyone is going to appreciate what to them is a random violin song. Instead, maybe only someone who has an ear can see the beauty in the violin music. I myself probably would have been one of those people who just walked on by. Although, I have always loved watching performing musicians on the street so I just might have lingered for a bit.

Anyway, so my point is that unless we've been trained or have experience with the subject, we may not be able to appreciate the greatest beauties the subject can offer. Another example is art. I love art and going to museums. And I think most people can appreciate it to some degree because we've all drawn on paper before. In fact I don't know a child who doesn't love to draw. They want to pick up a crayon or a stick and just go at that paper or mud. They are so eager to create. And when we find ourselves in a boring lecture, we may find ourselves continuing to doodle at a rather advanced age.

Recently I finished a drawing, and I like it and want to share it. Now in order to not sound like a braggart I am also including a picture of the original that I tried to recreate. And it gets back to my original point. Many people may look at the original and say that's amazing. Because like I said, all of us have taken pencil to paper, and we can appreciate the masters. But after trying to actually recreate this drawing, all I can say is that Raphael's practice sketch is my best. You can click on them to make them bigger.

I've hung this up next to the entrance door of my apartment. I tried to make the two look a little happier because it's my way of making my guests feel welcome. Both the young and old are excited they are here.

Here's mine:



And here's Raphael's:



Finally here is Raphael's painting. See if you can find the two. They don't appear quite so welcoming.