Atlas Shrugged

Ayn Rand.

Atlas Shrugged.

Go read it.

Bits O' Things

I've got a few posts half-written: some bits about Gerry Rafferty's Baker Street, an opinion on the liberal nonsense we see in our neck of the woods, as well as something about a local celebrity.

I'd like to say it's coming, but right now it's not even breathing heavy.

Soon though.

I'm finding resume writing to be a bit more of a challenge than I originally thought. This, mostly due to the fact that I haven't written one in ten years. I've just slid into new positions with each company merger.

It also doesn't help that once I finally decided to give it a go, work cranked up the volume, and gave me the "impossible project". It's much like being thrown into a pool of water, filled with sharks, and not knowing how to swim.

You would think the goal would be to simply survive and get out of the pool, but then you're told you're actually going to be tested on your high-dive.

Carded And Crabby

Friday night I stopped at the wine store. Exhausted, I waited patiently in line while the gentleman in front of me figured out how to swipe his debit card at the check out.

After driving back to Pennsylvania from the I-78 circle of hell, all I wanted was to get some wine, hit the grocery store, then go home.

I put my purchases on the counter, the clerk gives me an odd look, then squeaks out: “Ooooooh sorry! Can I see your driver's license pleeeeez?”

“You cannot be serious,” I groaned, while digging back into my bag.

I start wondering if she's just incapable of recognizing someone who's obviously 20 years over the legal age; then I figure the store must've had trouble with young'uns scoring booze, so now they're gone into reactionary mode, carding everyone, including 80 year old grandmothers.

I hand her the license, and then the confusion hits her face. I could tell she's trying to do the math in head and it's not working out the way she expected. She looks at me, then the license, then back again.

“Ummmm.....sorry about that. We have to card everyone under thirty years old. Uh, you really don't look your age.”

“Right. So, can I get a box for those bottles?”


Meh. There was a time when I thought it was great to get carded. Now, not so much.

Hubby and I were discussing this, and came to the conclusion that there's three life stages for getting carded.

First stage. Just after the 21st birthday. You hope the clerk asks for your license so you can proudly show you've reached that magical age.

Second stage. Anywhere from thirty to forty years old. You get carded and think, “Yaaah! I still got it!”.

Third stage. After forty. You haven't been carded in years. You forget it's even relevant to the checkout process at the wine store. When it does happen, it's just another three minutes of your life you'll never get back.

Hmmm? What's that brittle, crunching sound?

Yep.....it must be the crustiness taking hold.

Slow

Blogging's been a bit slow this week. Sorry. I love writing, but this week I've loved sleep a bit more.

Seems no matter what time I leave for work in the morning, I still get there around the same time. I-78 is like a slow intestine that only moves once every morning. This is extremely frustrating, as it took me two hours to get to work on Monday.

I'm playing around with leaving earlier and earlier, hoping that if I time things right, I'll hit it just as the highway BM is heaving forward, and maybe - just maybe, can get to work in under an hour.

Along with the exhausting commute, I put in twelve hours on Saturday in support of a project. It's amazing how that can throw off your weekly schedule – and sleep. So I've been hitting the pillow around 8pm every evening, leaving me only two hours to get the dinner made, the teenager crisis worked out, and the rest of the home life straightened.

So, yeah. I've poked around the interwebz locally, and was surprised to find there are jobs. I've updated the resume and plan to get that out there asap.

In other news, I'm shocked to say that most of the snow is actually gone, with the exception of the dirt-glaciers surrounding the driveway. It was so nice this past week, I managed to get Wulfgar, The Gently Used Volvo cleaned up. That lasted til I got home from the car wash. Even though it wasn't raining, there's been so much snow melt that the roads are all mucky anyway.

Oh well. I'll take this over twenty inches of snow any day.

What A Gorgeous Day!

Had the day off, and went hiking on the trails behind the house.

There's still a considerable amount of snow, but many areas were starting to clear.

Saw lots of deer trails, both muddy and snowy.

Click to enlarge:
















Oddly, we found a midden heap we never knew about. After poking around on the internet, it looks like most of these bottles are from the early 1900's. Too bad the jam jar is broken...according to the interwebz, it could be as old as 1895.

Spring

I actually saw a rainbow on my way to work yesterday.

A freakin RAINBOW, people!!

So it appears Spring may be on the horizon. Our local wacky weatherman says we'll see up to 50-something degrees this weekend, and the worst might be over.

Here in Pennsylvania, when we go straight from extremely bitter cold and snowy, to warm and sunny, it lasts til the end of April, then we get one last storm that dumps six inches of snow on us. Like Mother Nature throwing us the finger.

Temperatures have been warmer this week, and most places are seeing a lot of snow melt. Our backyard is melting, and has maybe four inches of snow left (down from twenty), but the glaciers along the sides of our driveway may be here til May. They're still at least four feet in height.

In other news, I took my daughter to the soccer sign up at the local high school on Tuesday. This is the school she'll attend next year.

I don't go into "that town" much, and I have to admit, I've never been to that school at night before. I knew it was in a crappy section of town, but I was woefully unprepared to see drug deals going down just outside the parking area.

Around the school itself, there were several bombed-out crack houses. Boarded up windows, garbage in the yards, shady types floating around. The works.

This isn't friggin Philly or NY. It's just a small town that's been overloaded with transient people from the city. Back in the 70's and 80's, people moved from NY, NJ and Philly to the Poconos - many looking for a better life and lower taxes, but many others came to sell drugs, real estate scams, and hide from the police.

It's Bronx-lite.

In light of those facts, along with the general lousy reputation and lack of funding for this particular school, we've been forced to look at other schools.

We'll have to cut back and really budget our money, but if it means she'll be better prepared for college and considerably safer - it's worth it.