An important message from Consumer Reports
6 years ago
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Target
I don't know if I'll be patronizing Target much anymore. I prefer them vastly to Wal-Mart, but they have no selection whatsoever of women's underwear above average size. No where. At all.
Dealing with Death
I've been fortunate in that I haven't faced much death in my life. There was the possibility my grandfather would die when he had a heart attack (and subsequent quadruple-bypass surgery) over a decade ago, but that's the closest I've been. I lost three great-grandparents, a great-great-grandfather, and a step-grandmother before I was ten years old, but not having spent much time with them, it didn't affect me much. Two of them had died before I was even two years old.
In high school the mother of a girl I'd known for most of my childhood died from breast cancer. I'd known her mother, too, for a long time because I was in Girl Scouts with the daughter, and the mother helped out a lot. My mother and I both went to the wake and the funeral, as well as the burial.
Also in high school, a teacher I'd had in grade school died of a heart attack. I hadn't known her very well but I'd liked her, so I attended the funeral, as did numerous other former students of hers.
This past week I stopped by my former workplace to say hi to a friend, and he updated me on the health of another friend's wife. I found out early this past year (after having worked with M for almost a year) that M's wife had breast cancer. It explained a whole hell of a lot that I hadn't understood about him before and it also made me see him in a different light. M and his wife have two little boys, one five and the other three; it was after the birth of the younger boy that they discovered the cancer.
Back in May or so M's wife became ill again, likely from complications, though he never told me that. I think he was afraid, and rightly so. He was working two jobs to make ends meet and I knew he felt that he didn't have enough time for his family. It was a catch-22: either he could continue working just one job and not be able to provide for his family (the wife had stopped working), or he could keep working both and never see his family except on weekends.
Anyway, when I stopped by the store the friend, S, told me M's wife was doing very poorly and was only expected to have days left. And I was expecting the call that came today from S, informing me of visitation/funeral times and places. DH and I will attend the visitation tomorrow and I may attend the funeral Monday on my own (DH is working) if I can.
I feel so awkward in these situations precisely because of my lack of experience with them. I don't know what to do or what to say, but I know that just being there is usually enough. It's an awful time to be alone. I want M to know that he's not alone.
In high school the mother of a girl I'd known for most of my childhood died from breast cancer. I'd known her mother, too, for a long time because I was in Girl Scouts with the daughter, and the mother helped out a lot. My mother and I both went to the wake and the funeral, as well as the burial.
Also in high school, a teacher I'd had in grade school died of a heart attack. I hadn't known her very well but I'd liked her, so I attended the funeral, as did numerous other former students of hers.
This past week I stopped by my former workplace to say hi to a friend, and he updated me on the health of another friend's wife. I found out early this past year (after having worked with M for almost a year) that M's wife had breast cancer. It explained a whole hell of a lot that I hadn't understood about him before and it also made me see him in a different light. M and his wife have two little boys, one five and the other three; it was after the birth of the younger boy that they discovered the cancer.
Back in May or so M's wife became ill again, likely from complications, though he never told me that. I think he was afraid, and rightly so. He was working two jobs to make ends meet and I knew he felt that he didn't have enough time for his family. It was a catch-22: either he could continue working just one job and not be able to provide for his family (the wife had stopped working), or he could keep working both and never see his family except on weekends.
Anyway, when I stopped by the store the friend, S, told me M's wife was doing very poorly and was only expected to have days left. And I was expecting the call that came today from S, informing me of visitation/funeral times and places. DH and I will attend the visitation tomorrow and I may attend the funeral Monday on my own (DH is working) if I can.
I feel so awkward in these situations precisely because of my lack of experience with them. I don't know what to do or what to say, but I know that just being there is usually enough. It's an awful time to be alone. I want M to know that he's not alone.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Roasted Chicken and Chicken Noodle Soup
I've done this before and figured I'd try it again. Only thing I'm worried about is that the bird has been in our freezer since last year (sell by date was November) and it's been in the fridge for a week. It smelled a bit funky but a good rinsing appears to have done away with that.
Anyway, here's how I did it (warning, I did this all by eye, no measurements for the most part):
Preheat oven to 350. I followed the instructions on the bag the chicken was in, which says that for a 5 to 6 pound chicken it needs to be cooked for 1 3/4 - 2 1/4 hours, with an additional 20 to 30 minutes for each pound more. Mine is almost five pounds. It also has one of those spifftacular pop-up thermometers, but I'll be keeping an eye on it anyway. First round was 90 minutes before I checked on it.
I liberally salted and peppered the outside of the bird, as well as sprinkling it with rosemary. I stuffed some chopped garlic and bay leaves in the cavity. No trussing, as we're not sophisticated enough to have kitchen twine. I put it in a sautee pan (see what I mean? We're poor and bought what we could) and shoved it into the oven.
Meanwhile, I chopped up carrots and celery. I let those sit to room temperature while I waited for the chicken to finish cooking (took about two hours). I let that cool down so I could handle picking the chicken apart.
I sauteed garlic, carrots, and celery with butter in a stockpot, then added five cups of water. A liberal bit of chicken boullion since I realized we didn't have any chicken stock or broth. Ended up putting a bit too much in, so it got a peeled potato (an old kitchen trick, the potato absorbs some of the saltiness). I shredded the chicken into the pot, all white meat since that's what I prefer, and DH can pick off what he wants of the dark meat since that's his favorite.
After that, I dumped some uncooked egg noodles in, and ended up needing to add some water back. The water reduced enough that there's not much broth except in the bottom of the pot.
Turned out damn good, if I do say so myself. As for the chicken carcass? It's getting turned into stock tomorrow.
Anyway, here's how I did it (warning, I did this all by eye, no measurements for the most part):
Preheat oven to 350. I followed the instructions on the bag the chicken was in, which says that for a 5 to 6 pound chicken it needs to be cooked for 1 3/4 - 2 1/4 hours, with an additional 20 to 30 minutes for each pound more. Mine is almost five pounds. It also has one of those spifftacular pop-up thermometers, but I'll be keeping an eye on it anyway. First round was 90 minutes before I checked on it.
I liberally salted and peppered the outside of the bird, as well as sprinkling it with rosemary. I stuffed some chopped garlic and bay leaves in the cavity. No trussing, as we're not sophisticated enough to have kitchen twine. I put it in a sautee pan (see what I mean? We're poor and bought what we could) and shoved it into the oven.
Meanwhile, I chopped up carrots and celery. I let those sit to room temperature while I waited for the chicken to finish cooking (took about two hours). I let that cool down so I could handle picking the chicken apart.
I sauteed garlic, carrots, and celery with butter in a stockpot, then added five cups of water. A liberal bit of chicken boullion since I realized we didn't have any chicken stock or broth. Ended up putting a bit too much in, so it got a peeled potato (an old kitchen trick, the potato absorbs some of the saltiness). I shredded the chicken into the pot, all white meat since that's what I prefer, and DH can pick off what he wants of the dark meat since that's his favorite.
After that, I dumped some uncooked egg noodles in, and ended up needing to add some water back. The water reduced enough that there's not much broth except in the bottom of the pot.
Turned out damn good, if I do say so myself. As for the chicken carcass? It's getting turned into stock tomorrow.
Finished Objects
Okay, well, this one's a semi-finished object, only because it's one of a pair.
I finally finished one of my Natalya mitts.
I finally finished one of my Natalya mitts.
Money sucks
This week started out shitty. Didn't get much better.
Monday morning, DH calls me up while he's working. Neither of us had noticed that his license plate tags had expired in July. We both thought he'd gotten two-year tags but apparently not. Of course, we still hadn't paid our personal property taxes (fuck you, Missouri, DIAF), and with me out of work for now we couldn't afford it. We ended up having to borrow the money from his parents; they also gave us the money for both inspections (safety and emissions (again, fuck you, Missouri).
His PPT (based on the value of his truck) was over $300 (after all the late fees, which actually aren't that much).
Check gets deposited Tuesday, DH goes and pays the PPT on Wednesday morning, and then has an appointment for the inspections.
His truck doesn't pass. It needs new rotors, new brakes, and a new shock in the back. Total damage? $463. Again, we have no money, and we've already asked his parents for help (plus we're pulling on my mom). He calls his parents, who are out of town, and after some haggling they agree to put it on a credit card, and we'll pay them back.
I hope to Moses that the rule of threes passes quietly by.
Monday morning, DH calls me up while he's working. Neither of us had noticed that his license plate tags had expired in July. We both thought he'd gotten two-year tags but apparently not. Of course, we still hadn't paid our personal property taxes (fuck you, Missouri, DIAF), and with me out of work for now we couldn't afford it. We ended up having to borrow the money from his parents; they also gave us the money for both inspections (safety and emissions (again, fuck you, Missouri).
His PPT (based on the value of his truck) was over $300 (after all the late fees, which actually aren't that much).
Check gets deposited Tuesday, DH goes and pays the PPT on Wednesday morning, and then has an appointment for the inspections.
His truck doesn't pass. It needs new rotors, new brakes, and a new shock in the back. Total damage? $463. Again, we have no money, and we've already asked his parents for help (plus we're pulling on my mom). He calls his parents, who are out of town, and after some haggling they agree to put it on a credit card, and we'll pay them back.
I hope to Moses that the rule of threes passes quietly by.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Knitting update
Working on this pattern currently, with this yarn.
It's not a complicated pattern, though I'm hoping that when finished and blocked it'll look better than it does on the needles. Cos nothing every looks good on the needles.
I need to stop being a lazy bum and finish the second Natalya gauntlet. It's not that it's hard, it's just that, yeah, I'm lazy. This project is being made with Patons Classic Merino Wool in black. I think I might do a pair of Knucks with the leftover yarn; what can I say, I like black? Might embroider the fingers with "NERD CORE."
I also need to update my progress of Lady Eleanor on Ravelry. That's another one I've let go, though I'd picked up on it for a while a few months ago.
Obviously, I'm fickle and lose interest easily.
It's not a complicated pattern, though I'm hoping that when finished and blocked it'll look better than it does on the needles. Cos nothing every looks good on the needles.
I need to stop being a lazy bum and finish the second Natalya gauntlet. It's not that it's hard, it's just that, yeah, I'm lazy. This project is being made with Patons Classic Merino Wool in black. I think I might do a pair of Knucks with the leftover yarn; what can I say, I like black? Might embroider the fingers with "NERD CORE."
I also need to update my progress of Lady Eleanor on Ravelry. That's another one I've let go, though I'd picked up on it for a while a few months ago.
Obviously, I'm fickle and lose interest easily.
WTH
So I'm reading celebrity news, checking out photos and this one pops up:
My first thought is: why the hell is there a photo of my BIL on celebrity sites? Cos he looks an awful lot like my BIL.
And then I find out that it's Bono. Y'know, this dude:
Yeah, not really what I was expecting.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Should rapists receive the death penalty?
I'm going to start by answering the question: No.
I understand the motivation behind the movement, I really do. It's a human, visceral reaction to an abhorrent crime that should never happen, even more so when the victim of said crime is a child. It's hard to control that reaction. We don't want to think of a defenseless child ever enduring such a horrible experience (which more often than not is perpetrated on them by someone they're supposed to be able to trust).
I disagree with the movement for one reason: if a rapist knows that the penalty is execution, what will stop them from just going the extra step and killing the victim? Murder the victim and there's a window of opportunity for escape from being caught and convicted; if your victim is dead they can't point the finger, can they?
I've heard the term "soul murder" applied to those who are victim of violent crimes, and certainly rape is violent, even in cases where there is no physical abuse. You don't need to be bruised and bleeding in order to be traumatized. It's something that does kill a part of the victim, usually their innocence, their hope, or their sense of self-worth.
And I say no because I am a victim of repeated acts of rape. My mother's husband began sexually abusing me when I was 13 and had begun developing the body of a woman (making him an ephebophile; he'd already begun abusing me in other ways before I was a "woman grown"). Certainly there was the risk of him being caught, which he eventually was, but he didn't fear for his life and in turn, I didn't need to fear for mine.
Can you imagine being in that situation and knowing that the person raping you could just as easily kill you? It's a terrible situation, certainly, but I'd much rather be alive and able to heal than dead and unable to do anything at all. And of course my family and friends would have had to mourn me instead of being able to surround me and support me, able to enjoy the rest of my life with them.
Do I think punishments for rapists (child rapists and otherwise) should be harsher? Sure. I think the Sex Offender Registry is a joke: if these people need to be monitored after they're released from prison to prevent recidivism, they shouldn't be released in the first place. Some can be rehabilitated and become productive members of society, and if they re-offend they can just as easily be tracked by their criminal record through police databases. The convicts that can't be rehabilitated, however, should remain imprisoned until they die.
A knee-jerk reaction to an awful crime doesn't do the victim any good.
I understand the motivation behind the movement, I really do. It's a human, visceral reaction to an abhorrent crime that should never happen, even more so when the victim of said crime is a child. It's hard to control that reaction. We don't want to think of a defenseless child ever enduring such a horrible experience (which more often than not is perpetrated on them by someone they're supposed to be able to trust).
I disagree with the movement for one reason: if a rapist knows that the penalty is execution, what will stop them from just going the extra step and killing the victim? Murder the victim and there's a window of opportunity for escape from being caught and convicted; if your victim is dead they can't point the finger, can they?
I've heard the term "soul murder" applied to those who are victim of violent crimes, and certainly rape is violent, even in cases where there is no physical abuse. You don't need to be bruised and bleeding in order to be traumatized. It's something that does kill a part of the victim, usually their innocence, their hope, or their sense of self-worth.
And I say no because I am a victim of repeated acts of rape. My mother's husband began sexually abusing me when I was 13 and had begun developing the body of a woman (making him an ephebophile; he'd already begun abusing me in other ways before I was a "woman grown"). Certainly there was the risk of him being caught, which he eventually was, but he didn't fear for his life and in turn, I didn't need to fear for mine.
Can you imagine being in that situation and knowing that the person raping you could just as easily kill you? It's a terrible situation, certainly, but I'd much rather be alive and able to heal than dead and unable to do anything at all. And of course my family and friends would have had to mourn me instead of being able to surround me and support me, able to enjoy the rest of my life with them.
Do I think punishments for rapists (child rapists and otherwise) should be harsher? Sure. I think the Sex Offender Registry is a joke: if these people need to be monitored after they're released from prison to prevent recidivism, they shouldn't be released in the first place. Some can be rehabilitated and become productive members of society, and if they re-offend they can just as easily be tracked by their criminal record through police databases. The convicts that can't be rehabilitated, however, should remain imprisoned until they die.
A knee-jerk reaction to an awful crime doesn't do the victim any good.
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