The Constitution doesn't poll very well

Source: Summary of Former Congressman Harold Ford's comments at the recent Netroots Nation confrerence
I like this comment. Not just because I'm in the middle of rewatching the 4th season of The West Wing and it sounds like something Josh would say.

I woke up yesterday morning to find a comment from someone I did not know in my blog. A reader! A reader! So, I did the only imaginable thing, I launched an exhaustive (ok, exhuasting in my pre-caffeinated state) web search to find his identity. dr von drinkensnorten looks like your average sys admin/serial killer with more annoyance at the ennui of the average American liberal than most of us can bother to muster. Go dr von! And, I found this quote on his blog. Turns out he googled for a random lyric...

Meatloaf is giving me conflicting messages

Source: Comment to Chris about during his brief "I'll be your mental health professional" moment yesterday

Ok, yesterday was an "I need to belt out songs" day. And my ultimate sing along album is Meatloaf's 1977 Bat out of Hell featuring songs by Jim Steinman. Mock away, Bastard Neil, I can take it. But here is the gist of the songs on this album in order:

1. I love you, but I love my motorcycle more, so let's make it tonight
2. We're making it on the beach, I love you, and I was about to tell you, but you said it first
3. Ok, I have no idea, because "Heaven Can Wait" is not beltable. Apparently Jim Steinman has a thing for Warren Beatty movies.
4. I was a great football player, damn I was horny, but I really don't know why you're in this song
5. Let's make it, but it doesn't mean I love you.
6. I said I love you to get into your pants, I married you, but now I'm hoping the world ends, because getting into your pants was SO not worth it.
7. I don't know that I've EVER listened to this song, so whatever.

So, after playing this album 6 or 8 times in a row over 2 days, I switched. All I can say about this has already been said to Chris: "I'm currently drawing inspiration from Culture Club's 1983 Colour by Numbers...one cannot be expected to be rational whilst listening to Boy George."

Really? 1983? Huh. Karma Karma Karma Karma Karma Chameleon...like that bitch wouldn't have been lynched on a 1800s Mississippi steam boat.

Too much tequila or not quite enough...

Source: Semi-True Stories, Jimmy Buffett

This is perhaps my favorite Jimmy Buffett song of all time, and that's saying a LOT. It's a reminiscence of a particular event where he was telling a woman his feelings in a most adolescent way, but he admits that the details have changed over the years. Probably not the part about having too much tequila or not quite enough in his system. It doesn't make it any less true to him and maybe even more dear.

We all have those stories. They all change over time and they're never any less true. We all know couples who have terrific times bickering over the details. He sings fun songs, drinking songs, songs that make you laugh and cry. And this is my favorite.

I'm not considered dangerous, just annoying

Fearless Fourteen, Janet Evanovich

The new Stephanie Plum novel is out. It hasn't gotten great reviews, but whatever. It amuses me, and it's terrific brain candy.

Watch this Space

Mom's husband, Shane doesn't have much longer. He's about to go into kidney and liver failure. She got on a plane at 8:30 last night. So, I'm headed down soon to help out. Life's frazzled here.

I don't want to smell the birds or hear the flowers now that I think of it

This references two comments, really. When we were walking home from our neighborhood's Night Out Against Crime potluck last night, we walked very close to what I think was night blooming jasmine that made me wretch. Super sweet flowers have that effect on me. I made the comment "I love flowers, I just don't want to smell them." This is true of most flowers. They just induce varying degrees of discomfort.

Then, as Mike and I were getting into bed, I asked him to close the windows before he left for work. Since the sun still rises in the middle of the night (around 4:30 a.m.) around here, the birds get an EARLY start in their singing. Waking me up. So, I usually get up in a groggy state and close the windows. I made the comment "I don't wanna hear the damned birds and I don't want to smell the flowers." Then I said "I don't want to smell the birds or hear the flowers now that I think of it".

I worry when a suspect has extra alibis

Source: The Closer

Come on, detective. All the best suspects come prepared with extra stuff...business cards for bail bonds folks (gotta check for the best price), snacks for long interrogations...extra excuses.

Fear of fish judging me...

Source: Misheard quote from Grant on the MythBusters Shark Week Special 2
Ok, apparently the quote is actually "It combines my fears of open water and fish touching me." Or so says my mom and Mike. But I heard "fish judging me" and frankly that's a WHOLE lot funnier, even if their version makes more sense. Grant was being put out into the water of Carribean as part of an experiement to see if "playing dead" is a more effective way to avoid being eaten by sharks in the open water. Seems it is, but that didn't make it any easier on poor Grant.

You can dress a duck up and name him fido, but that doesn't make him a ham sandwich

Source: Completely random comment by Debi months ago

No, it didn't make any more sense then. It's in the same category as "Never staple a small dog to your chest and run down Dale Mabry naked screaming 'F*ck me, F*ck me, I'm Oprah Winfrey's twin sister." That was something my dear friend Dan came up with our Senior year at T.R. Robinson High School. He wrote it in my memory book.

And I now return you to your regularly scheduled lives. Poor bastards.

I Hate being Taunted by Dairy Cows

Source: Pearls Before Swine, July 30, 2008
Not that it has anything to do with the above comment, but I did have a run in with a highland cow once. Those are big furry buggers. I had the odd fortune to take a car trip to the highlands with a friend of a friend (because he had a license and I had the cash for the rental car). I saw Loch Ness. I saw sheep. And when Dale pulled over to the side of the road to have a piss, I saw COW. I never learned to say "cow" properly in Dale's opinion. It has an enormous number of vowels, actually. But he drank Longneck Bud, so I'm not sure he had any cultural superiority there.

Everybody's Got to Leave the Darkness Sometime

Source: I'm So Happy That I Can't Stop Crying, Sting

Sting also put out a 4 song EP of this with the song "This Was Never Meant to Be", the theme song for my ex-boyfriend and me. We were right and how.

Meanwhile, I hope that he's right. Seattlites are used to darkness, at least in the physical sense. It does take over many psyches around here it would seem. Perhaps that's why you can't swing a dead cat (and boy do I have a candidate for that) without hitting at least one therapist. Some parts of town, you'd take out 4 or 5.

Having all one's music collection on one hard drive is a NEW experience. I must admit that a LOT of stuff remains in the corner never to noticed, but I see a lot more of it and think to myself "Self, you haven't listen to that in a long time. Pop that baby on rotation."

I'm tired of straddling that fine line between love and hate. It's beginning to chafe.

Sometimes, I'm the one with the awesome lines. Not sure exactly where this came from. Not sure I'd share if I did know.

I do know the Bastard Neil is an even BIGGER Bastard as of today. Not ONLY is he not sure he'll be back by October 1st, he got free friggin' tickets to the Police/Elvis Costello show. I know he sold his soul, but why is he STILL reaping the benefits. His soul can't be worth THAT much.

Some things are better left than understood

I Don't Care if You Love Anymore, The Mavericks
Continuing the Chris theme of "don't be a dumbass". Not that I'm a dumbass. Just going on a theme. I do that. Really. Don't call me a dumbass. Regardless of the inherent truth in the statement. I'm in denial, help a girl out, ok?

Look at me! I'm overdressed and ugly!

Dead Sexy, Tate Hallaway
Wiccan chick-lit. Wasn't sure it would work, but it was as tasty as any brain candy out there.

Anyway, this is the way the heroine, Garnet, describes the house she lives in. The owner had a fit of metrosexualism and apparently this is what the house screams.

Unsuccessful custodian of 26 Chickens

We went to see Andrew Bird and Josh Ritter at ZooTunes last night at Woodland Park Zoo. Andrew Bird has a song on his latest CD called "Spare-Ohs". Before he played it last night, he explained that it's not at all abstract. He had 26 chickens at his farm, and a predator (wolf? fox? I don't remember...though fox sounds right) got in one night and ate them all. Ok, then he got a little weird with how the sparrows built nests with the chicken feathers, blah, blah, blah.

Gotta say, I didn't like Andrew Bird for a variety of reasons. I think his latest album is ok, but I was unimpressed with him in person.

Anyway, perhaps I'll wax all fan-girl on Josh Ritter tomorrow.

Are you stupid or just a little slow?

Source: Knock 'em Out, Lily Allen
A song that blows off a man in a bar by telling him among other things that she has herpes and that she's pregnant. Nice.

This continues yesterday's theme. It's a rhetorical question. I haven't decided what my answer is quite honestly. I'm hoping it's the later. Slow is curable. Stupid? Not so much.

Venturing down that path will lead you on a bumpy, nauseating ride that will deposit you right where you are now without a refund

Source: comment from Chris on continuing to beat one’s head against the proverbial wall

What does one do without a Chris in one's life to simultaneously make you laugh and tell you not to be a dumbass? And to make one laugh when one returns, head hanging low, to admit that one is indeed a dumbass?

There will be drama...

Yeah, yeah, I know. Color you surprised at the thought of drama in Debi's life. But my most beloved Beetle is in the shop again. Yesterday as I was driving up the hill on my way to Starbucks (another huge surprise for you), the temperature light started flashing red. ARGH! The manual is supremely UNHELPFUL.

So, I park it and take Mike's truck to Starbucks. Until someone at the dealer tells me if I can drive it or not, it's not going anywhere. Even better, we have stuff three adults and a Chihuahua into the truck for the trek to Vashon Island to see Mike's 100-year-old grandfather who just drove in from Nebraska (more on that later).

This morning I called the dealer, and they said to put a cup of water in the coolant resevoir to see if it's a low coolant issue. Sure, make it sound easy. Except that they seem to have used an air wrench to secure the top of the coolant resevoir. Honestly? A hammer and a screw driver to turn the silly thing (there's a LARGE channel running down the center, but no room to lay down anything for leverage).

A cup of water helped. Mom and I dropped it off at the dealer. They probably won't get to it today, and maybe not tomorrow. The service advisor teased me with the idea that it might have been a bubble in the coolant line. When the bubble finally pops, it can lower the level a lot. So again, it will be $100 or $1000.

Update: My car has a "coolant flange" and it's leaking. Only $185. WHEW. I also have an oil leak, but they're fixing it under warranty because I'm the first owner. I had a 2-year/24,000 mile warranty, so I'm unsure how at 8 years and 85,000 miles it's being fixed under warranty, but I'm gonna go with good karma at this point. I can't have it until tomorrow, but it's CHEAP!

I wished I could draw my inspiration from mother nature’s well, but to tell you the truth, the bitch leaves me dry

Source: A Fraction of the Whole by Steve Toltz
A-friggin-MEN! I hate nature. Not looking at it so much as being in it. I LOVE looking at a pretty blue sky as Chris and I walk from our office building to Starbucks. I like looking at Mt. Rainier as I drive to Ikea. I love it from a path in the city. Around an urban lake. I love the sound of the surf. I love it from a secluded beach in the middle of no where. So, I guess more precisely, I hate being stuck in non-coastal nature.

The reason is simple. I don't like being dirty. And when you're in nature, you're dirty. I don't dislike dirt altogether. Gardening is fine. But I can come inside and have hot water and soap immediately. Florida's coast, where I grew up, doesn't have much in the way of actual dirt, just sand. Sand can get in uncomfortable places, but if you wipe it off, you're essentially clean. No organic residue left. There's seaweed, but you can always eat that if you get lost.

I can do it. I can appreciate it. It's lovely. There's nature I'd put up with just to see the sight, like the Grand Canyon or the Outback. Hell, I put up with desert all through Israel, and I'm not even sure I complained all that much (except about the rocks in my Birkenstocks). But if I had to choose my nature, I like my deck in the middle of Seattle (or any of several back yards I'm lucky enough to have invitations to on a regular basis). Until the next time I'm stupid enough to say "Let's go camping." That was only two weeks ago. Today, I still remember why I hate nature.

Don't you have places to go, communicable diseases to catch?

Source: 9 Chickweed Lane,7/17/08

I'm sure I'm breaking all kinds of rules, but read the strip here. I wish I needed a book of notarized testimonials about something!