Status

Oct. 27th, 2009 12:06 pm
bobquasit: (Default)
Lots to tell about.

My hand still hurts, so I'm taking a regular dose of ibuprofen twice a day. The bruising has faded somewhat.

I still can't put pressure on it in the direction I fell; it hurts too much. I called the urgentcare clinic where I had it x-rayed, and they confirmed that it's not broken. I may call my doctor if it doesn't feel a lot better soon.
Read more... )

Wee Folk

Aug. 13th, 2009 09:46 am
bobquasit: (Default)
Today is Sebastian's last day of summer camp at Wee Folk. That's the day care that he went to when he was young, too. He was very sad this morning, because he knew it was his last day.

There's going to be a pizza party there next Tuesday, and he really wants to spend the day there. Teri's going to see if it is possible.

I was reading The Horse and His Boy to Sebastian last night (we recently finished The Silver Chair; he liked it very much), and he suddenly asked me to make chocolate chip cookie bars for his friends at Wee Folk the next day. It was nearly 9 o'clock, and we didn't even have all the ingredients, so I couldn't. I felt bad about that.

Ah, life! So many little sorrows. I wish I could shield him from them.

Mousehunt

Jul. 28th, 2009 11:00 pm
bobquasit: (Default)
All three cats kept clustering together around different spots near the baseboard heaters tonight. They were all very excited and agitated. I suspected a mouse.

It wasn't long before I had no doubt: it had to be a mouse, or some similar small creature. They were too excited for anything else.

Teri and Sebastian were both already asleep, by the way.

Later I heard a wild high-pitched squeaking, so high that I thought it might be a bat rather than a mouse. But it was a mouse, a good-sized plump one, and Baby was chasing it (followed closely by Widget). It dashed into one of Teri's slippers. I had a quick glimpse; it may have been injured and had definitely been roughed up, but I saw no sign of a critical injury. So I gently but quickly clapped her other slipper on top of the opening to keep the mouse from getting away, took it outside, and tossed it onto our front lawn. I should have taken it further away, but I was a little excited myself.

I hope it doesn't come back to our house...but with three cats here who have already shown their ability as mousers, that could only be classified as suicide.
bobquasit: (Default)
Opening Day is always hell.

Traffic around Fenway coagulates and freezes solid as cars pour in. The sidewalks and parking lots are jammed with all sorts of people wearing Red Sox gear. Flagmen stand in the street, waving cars towards their parking lots at exorbitant rates.

I left early, so as to catch the early shuttle. It never showed. When the next shuttle showed up, it seemed likely that I'd miss my train. I'll be honest: I was pissed off, probably more so than the situation called for.

The shuttle crawled along. It seemed to take forever. But as we passed in front of the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, the ground began to shake. We all looked frantically around as a roar of raw sound like nothing I've ever heard before screamed over our heads.

I looked out the window as four military jets in close formation flew very fast and very low, right over our heads. And at that moment I felt it in my bones: I was absolutely helpless. This was a force that no human being could stand against. If the people in those jets wanted me dead, I was dead.

And it occurred to me that living under a threat like that every day must change people in a very fundamental way. How the people in Iraq and Afghanistan must hate us!
bobquasit: (Default)
When I was a boy, I used to write a private letter to myself on my birthday; sort of a message to my future self, a way to capture my thoughts and feelings.

That didn't always work out well. Children can't ever really count on privacy, after all. Maybe nobody can.

Anyway, today was my birthday, and I have a nagging feeling that I should at least make some small note for myself. Sebastian considered it a big deal, of course. He was all excited to give me the present that he and Teri had picked out: a Nintendo DS, and a Final Fantasy game for it. He's so precious!

The thing is at 45, a birthday is just another day, you know? But I don't know how to tell him that, and I don't think I'd want to if I could.

So here's how things are: they're okay. I'm reasonably healthy, money is tight but we're not desperate, and we're all doing well. That's not to say that everything is perfect. A good friend is in the hospital, and I'm worried. A family member isn't feeling well. There are a few things I need to deal with. Our social life is badly lacking. I still haven't been able to write fiction the way I would like. But all in all, things could certainly be much worse.

Tonight Sebastian asked me to sing to him, so I did. And then he begged me to sleep in his bed all night. Unfortunately he's a bit of a restless sleeper, as well as a bed hog, so I knew that was impossible.

Speaking of sleep, Teri did let me sleep in this morning; after we dropped Sebastian off at school and picked up a few things at Lowes for the dining-room project, I went back to bed. My dreams were strange. We were living in a penthouse apartment or condo on top of a tall building in a big city. Part of the apartment was open-air, and it was lightly raining in the dark. As I ran across the open area, I slipped and skidded towards the edge of the roof; but there was a solid fence, so I wasn't in any danger of falling. The lights of the city were large and incredibly beautiful; huge words were spelled out along the side of a building across the way, but I don't remember what they said. I turned to Teri in the dream and said "See, hon? This is why I've always wanted to live in the city."

Okay, enough. It's really too late, and I need sleep.
bobquasit: (Default)
I had to go pick up a friend at the bus station in downtown Providence tonight; I got the call just past midnight. I'd been expecting her earlier, but the bus was running late. It was raining and dark, not my favorite weather to drive in even when I'm not dying of sleep deprivation.

So I took I95 down. As I was getting off the 22A ramp - a long, gently curving ramp that most people take at high speed - I suddenly saw a huge accident in the road ahead. A white car was upside-down in the middle of the ramp, with broken glass and debris everywhere. It must have happened only seconds earlier, because I was the first on the scene. People were dragging each other out through the windows of the half-crushed car. It was two girls and a young man; there was no visible blood or injury, but injuries still seemed likely.

I put on my hazards, kicked some of the debris to the side of the ramp and dialed 911. Fucking AT&T! I got a tone and a "This call cannot be completed as dialed". What's the point of having 911 if it doesn't work when you need it? Fortunately someone else was able to get through to the police.

Some guy came up and asked me to move my car so he could get past. "Drive around me" I said. He did, with loud popping sounds as he drove through the broken glass. Another car followed him. A few people were trying to comfort the passengers from the car, who were making the usual sounds of distress - not screaming, just sounds of lamentation. I noticed that the girls from the car were wearing remarkably revealing dresses - not torn, they were designed that way. Is tonight prom night?

I couldn't figure out how the car had gotten upside-down. There was a loop of another ramp almost directly overhead, but the guard rail was undamaged.

I was shaking, to be honest. The ramp was pretty much blocked up (there's a lot of traffic in downtown Providence, even after midnight), so I shouted that we should clear a path for the police and ambulance, and went carefully around the crash site myself. I avoided the worst of the glass and didn't hear any popping sounds. Picked up my friend and came home; on the way we passed the crash site from a distance, and I could see flashing police lights.

What a weird experience!
bobquasit: (Default)
I meant to write this one a while ago, but kept getting delayed. I'll do a short entry, rather than indefinitely put off making a longer one.

I used to love to go to Harvard Square. It was my Mecca, and I'd go at least once a week, and more often if I could. It was about a twenty minute drive for me, perhaps twice that long if I took the T, so it wasn't an arduous trip. But even when I lived hundreds of miles away, Harvard Square was the place in the world that I loved best.

I won't bore you by talking about the stores, restaurants, and street scene. It was just so much fun to be there!

I preferred hanging out there with a friend if possible, of course, but even if I was alone I loved to be there.

Anyway, after I moved to Rhode Island I stopped going. It was too far, and I had family responsibilities. But recently I ended up on my own in Harvard Square again, in the process of heading towards a get-together with old friends. It had changed a lot, of course; I knew that a lot of the stores I loved were long gone, thanks to greedy developers. But I was surprised by the number of old favorites that were still there, and still more surprised that there were some new stores which weren't lame chain stores (how I loathe Abercrombie & Fitch) but interesting and fun-looking places. It all came back to me with a rush.

God, I missed it. I need to try to find a way to get back there, at least once in a while.

Water

Apr. 6th, 2007 03:30 pm
bobquasit: (LLAP-GOCH)
A few days ago I went over to the kitchen at work to get my water bottle. It's a 1-liter plastic bottle; I half-fill it with water and put it into the freezer in a tilted position. After it's frozen I fill the rest of it with water and have ice water for the day.

When I got to the kitchen, I was surprised to see my bottle sitting on the counter, thawing. From the amount of water melted, it must have been out there for hours.

I checked the freezer, and it was more than half empty. Nor had anything been put where my bottle had been. The refrigerator was also not crowded. The whole thing made me nervous. But I had a meeting and I needed water, so I filled up the bottle and went to the meeting.

At the meeting, I drank a few sips. It was probably psychosomatic, but it tasted bitter, and made my tongue burn. I dokl,,,,,,,,,, ,.jvgfnsd,.mzxcv..............


Heh. I was momentarily tempted to continue with "I'm a co-worker of Peter, and we're taking him to the hospital now", but that would be unforgivable. Anyway, the water really DID burn my tongue, so I'm throwing the bottle out and buying a new one (it was disposable anyway). I'm sure I wasn't poisoned, since I drank it several days ago and only had a sip or two anyway. But I still can't figure it out: why would someone take a bottle that didn't belong to them out of a shared freezer and leave it on a counter? It just doesn't make sense.

I realize that this is an incredibly trivial subject, but...it just doesn't make sense. Maybe the bottle fell out when they opened the freezer? But then why didn't they just put it back?

I'm stumped!
bobquasit: (Default)

Christmas Tree 2006 Christmas Tree 2006

Today we went and got our Christmas tree. We'd picked it out last week at Bear's Farm, and today we picked it up. I always feel a little guilty about killing a tree for the holiday; as I was adding water to it, the image crossed my mind of an alien species having X-mas human heads in buckets of nutrients, doomed to die after a month or two but adding a festive touch to their alien festivities.

But the tree went up easily, it's one of the better-looking ones we've had, and while it was a bit arduous putting the lights on, I eventually got it done.

(Note to self: put the lights on the tree before placing it in the corner.)

Another random thought: I think I enjoyed Christmas more back when I was a christian. That's not at all surprising, of course.

Shhhh...

Dec. 4th, 2006 09:09 pm
bobquasit: (The Question)
Well, my voice is gone.

All I can do now is whisper, and even that hurts quite a bit. I spoke to a nurse at my doctor's office, and she told me I was right on the money all the way down the line: the initial illness was a viral sinus infection, and now I've got bacterial bronchitis. So they called in an antibiotic prescription for me. Plus they suggested Robitussin DM to loosen the congestion.

I went home early from work today, and I'll be very surprised indeed if I feel well enough to go to work tomorrow. Teri's going to be out with friends all day tomorrow, so I'll be watching Sebastian; I imagine I'll do that from the sofa, though. My sweet little boy is very concerned about his sick dad! He told me that if I'm not better soon he'll stay home from school on Wednesday and for the rest of the week, so he can make "get well" cards for me.
bobquasit: (Default)
I took Thursday off, because we had a LOT of things scheduled.

Hasbro FunLab

First, we took Sebastian to the Hasbro FunLab to playtest some toys. He spent 90 minutes there, and had a lot of fun; Teri and I stayed in a waiting room with the mothers of the other children there. I was able to walk into the observation room and spy on the kids for a while, which was fun. And afterwards they gave each kid a large shopping bag with lots of toys. Sebastian got a G.I. Joe (which I found slightly troubling, but tolerable), a red Power Ranger, a Play-Doh kit with a Mister Potato Head, a Junior Scrabble game, and a FunLab t-shirt. They also told us all that the group had been simply great - no squabbling or fuss of any kind - and that they wanted us all to come back in January, if we were willing. Which of course we are.

Dentist

After that we went to the dentist for Sebastian's six-month check-up and cleaning. I have to admit that I was worried about this, and so was Teri. We haven't been as good about brushing his teeth as we ought. And when we do, it's difficult; he usually has a canker sore, and tends to flinch. Apparently cold sores are caused by a virus, and there isn't a lot we can do about them.

But the news was excellent: no cavities, and his teeth look great. He took the exam quite well, and only fussed a little during the cleaning and flossing. At one point he flattened himself in the chair, which looked rather funny. But the hygienist made an interesting discovery, and since Sebastian very much wants to break the news to [livejournal.com profile] stairflight over the phone or in person, I'll hide the news here using a white font. Click and drag over the area below if you're interested.

The hygienist found that his two front bottom teeth are wiggly! She said he would lose them sometime in the next few months. I have to admit that I was kind of shocked, but she said it wasn't that early, and certainly nothing to worry about. I can't believe that he's already about to lose his baby teeth! And come to think of it, that means that I'll need to buy a couple of silver dollars for him. My father started a tradition of leaving silver dollars for teeth when I was a kid, and my brother and I intend to continue that tradition. Although silver dollars are a LOT more expensive now than they were when I was a boy...

Storytime At the Library

Teri and Sebastian had a quick lunch from McDonalds (I didn't eat; I still haven't eaten ANY fast food since I read Fast Food Nation in 2000), and then we went to the library for Storytime. While Teri sat and chatted with another mother she knew, I returned all our late books, paid nine dollars in fines (which is a pretty amazing total), and took out four new books including Swamp Thing Reunion, Hellboy: The Conquerer Worm, and Crisis On Infinite Earths.

I love that my library has an extensive graphic novel collection now.

When story time was over, all the kids came trooping out of the room making the cutest turkey-gobble noises. Their project had been to make turkeys out of paper, with googly eyes. Sebastian had a lot of fun.

The Optometrist

After that, we went across the street to Vision Associates. Teri and I were scheduled for eye exams, and since it had been two years since we got our last pairs of glasses, we were due for new ones. We have Davis Vision insurance, so we can get new glasses every two years. Unfortunately we're limited to a relatively small selection of frames, but it's still got enough variety to live with.

I suspect that for most people with relatively normal glasses, the vision insurance may not be worth it. But my glasses always cost over $500, so it's not a bad deal. I get highest-index polycarbonate lenses with the best anti-reflective coating, and my frames need to be either titanium or (better) have long plastic sleeving over the temples. For some reason my skin is so incredibly acidic that it oxidizes even gold-plated frames.

First, though, we had to have our eyes examined. It was the usual routine, with eye drops. Sebastian found it quite interesting, although I had to remind him not to help us by telling us what the letters were on the wall.

The ophthalmologist also showed Sebastian an image of the inside of Teri's eye, which was kind of cool. Incidentally, my left eye didn't change at all, but the vision in my right eye actually improved a little.

The exams done, we went to pick out frames. It was difficult, since Sebastian kept getting in the way; my restrictions on acceptable frames also made it harder. But eventually Teri and I were able to pick out a pair for each of us. She got cat's-eye glasses that I thought were quite cute, and I got a pair which were quite different from my usual large frames. Instead they're, well...unfortunately I can't find them online. But they're sort of rectangular, considerably smaller than the ones that I wear now, and rather wide. Teri really liked them, so I decided to put vanity ahead of functionality; I'm sure I'll get used to them quickly enough.

I'll put up a picture when I get them. If Davis Vision runs true to form, that will be in about six weeks. If they don't screw them up completely, that is, in which case I'll have to send them back and wait for another six weeks. That's happened to me at least two or three times.
bobquasit: (Hot day)
For some reason it has been awfully hard to write lately. There's no particular reason that I can think of, it's just...hard. My brain freezes up whenever I try to get into writing mode. Which is why I've been pretty awful about responding to comments, lately. And I haven't been commenting on journals much, either.

I'm really sorry about that.

Anyway, this is another attempt to break the logjam by writing a catch-up entry.

Today was a long "Daddy & Me" day. Teri was doing a yard sale at her mother's house, and she was selling a bunch of Sebastian's old toys; it was my job to take Sebastian away and entertain him for the day, so he wouldn't get sad.

Not to mention me. Taking away a child's toys is something that gets to me, big time. This may sound silly, but when I was quite young (perhaps four or five) I had to give one of my toys to a visitor to our house; my heart must have really broken, because I have never forgotten it and can still see that stupid toy in my mind with almost no effort. And it kills me to think of Sebastian having to give up his toys.

Anyway. It was a beautiful, sunny morning. Before we started out, I took a picture of Sebastian sitting on our porch, our giant just-about-to-bloom lilac bush behind him:



We drove Teri over to her mother's house, and she asked me to help bring out some of the items they were going to sell. I did, of course, and less than ten minutes after we set up there were people stopping and looking things over.

No point in making this longer than it has to be; Sebastian saw some of his giant-size Lego blocks, burst into tears, and ran into the back porch, sobbing. I followed him, and you can imagine how I felt to see huge tears trickling down his cheeks. So I got him out of there.

First we went and looked at the burned-out mill building from last Saturday; it was Sebastian's idea. I'm only 99% certain that the one we looked at was the actual building. Somehow it feels as if it should still have been smoking.

Then we picked up breakfast for the two of us, and went home. I broke my own "No TV" resolution, and let him watch The Yellow Submarine on DVD; he was SO sad. Then I took him down to Roger William's park in Providence.

We walked across the Japanese garden and saw a turtle and a few fish in the water. Moving on, we passed the carousel; Sebastian wasn't interested in it, so we went to the playground.

The playground was apparently set up by Hasbro, or something, so here's a photo of Sebastian next to Mr. Potato Head.



We played, he refused to touch a lizard that a woman had in the playground (I touched its tail; it was dry and firm, pretty much like a stick). he refused to go on the pony rides, and he played a lot. Then we went for a ride on the swan boats.

These were quite different from the ones in Boston; you pedal them yourself. Ours tilted a lot, since I'm so much heavier than Sebastian. But we took our tour of the pond and came back. Some more playing at the playground, some cold water and cotton candy, and we headed for home - or rather, for the yard sale.

Up till that point the weather had been absolutely perfect, but as we were leaving the park I'd spotted dark rain clouds moving in fast. By the time we got back to Woonsocket, it was drizzling. Teri and her mother were still selling (the toy that had made Sebastian cry was gone, but fortunately he either didn't notice or didn't care any more), so Sebastian and I went inside. He ate 24 slices of kielbasa, two ears of corn, and by then Teri and her mother had joined us.

We hung around for a while, then headed for home. After a while we headed over to Wright's Chicken Farm for dinner. There were an incredible number of people there, so Teri was ready to leave right away, but I pointed out that it would be a mistake to make a snap judgement without actually checking on the wait time. So I ran in, and they told me it would be half an hour; much better than I'd expected, and if we went elsewhere, it would be at least a half an hour anyway.

I took a number, ran out and grabbed Teri and Sebastian, and we headed back in. We shopped in the gift store...and I was amazed, because our number was called in less than ten minutes.

We had the usual excellent dinner, and on the way to the car saw a startling sunset. I don't know if the photo is clear enough, but there was the oddest red glow where the sun had just gone down; none of us had ever seen anything like it.



Went home, settled in, and now Teri and Sebastian are sound asleep. All in all, a pretty good day.
bobquasit: (Default)
It has been a few days since I last posted; I've been awfully busy. On Monday I had to stay an hour late at work, and on Tuesday, two hours. With any luck things will quiet down a little soon.

Some odds and ends:


Sebastian
Sebastian recently had a couple of canker sores in his mouth. He calls them "cactus sores".


Last night he woke up in the middle of the night and crawled into our bed. I woke up, of course, and he tearfully told me that he'd had a scary dream. "Drink some water," I said, holding my cup out to him, "that will keep the bad dream from coming back."

As he drank, I told him that it would help if he would think about other things. I was pretty groggy, so the things that I suggested didn't make a lot of sense; one of them was Thomas the Tank Engine wearing a hat. He giggled and went back to sleep. So did I. Teri had never woken up, by the way.

I'd forgotten all about it, until Teri told me this afternoon that he'd told her about the whole thing. And gave me the details to prove it. It turns out that he ended up dreaming...about Thomas wearing a hat.

For some reason that makes me feel like a really good father.


Needle & Ink
I took a half day off today, and went to accompany Teri to get a tattoo. That is, she got a tattoo; as I've often said, the only way that I would let anyone stick a needle into me would be if they were a doctor, and the needle filled with pain-relieving or life-saving medicine.

One of her friends had planned to go with her, but cancelled unexpectedly.

Now, I hate tattoos. But I have to admit that I'd never been in a tattoo parlor before. All in all, it was cleaner than I expected, although the people inside were a bit rough around the edges - all but the guy who did Teri's tattoo. He was actually extremely nice. And what's more, he did a great job!

I was cringing all along at the thought of Teri getting a tattoo; it's her body, but I hate the idea of her being jabbed with needles. Her plan was to get a tattoo on her ankle of a train with three cars, with Sebastian's initials displayed one to a car. It would be a smallish tattoo on her ankle, covering about 30-40% of the circumfrance.

I was afraid that it would look sleazy, or cheap. But it actually looks really cute and nice; a little childlike, in the best sense possible. Maybe she'll let me post a photo later. Of course, it needs to heal.

Storm!

Mar. 2nd, 2006 01:59 pm
bobquasit: (Default)
A fairly big snowstorm is hitting the region, so they're letting us go home early. Should be an interesting commute.

I was just about to post that, when I suddenly thought "Man, that would be an ironic final post."

And that last line would make it even more ironic.

Uh-oh, I think I'm entering an infinite recursion of irony. Help! :D
bobquasit: (Default)
I have not forgotten that story (for the record, it will be called 41° 59' , -71° 31', rising). I've started it. But it's not going to be done tonight.

I don't know if this is going to be worth posting, but I was with Teri in the car today and I put something into words in a way that I hadn't before. Teri didn't think it was a great insight, and I suppose it wasn't. Still, it intrigued me.

What I said was this: Basically, it makes sense to try new things in life. Because if you try something new and you hate it, you won't do it again; you'll have had one bad experience, and that's it. But if you like it, you can do it again and again, for the rest of your life.

So even if you don't like nine out of ten of the new things that you try, in the end you'll come out way ahead.

Of course, that doesn't mean you should try stuff that's likely to get you killed.

Actually, I was mostly thinking of food when I came up with this. And if anyone who knows me well is reading this - particularly any of my family - they're probably either staring in disbelief at the screen, wondering who the hell wrote this, or they're laughing.

New Year

Jan. 3rd, 2006 09:39 pm
bobquasit: (Default)
Okay.

I don't believe in New Year's resolutions; or at least, not for me. They're pretty much doomed to be broken, right from the start.

But having said that, there are some things that I'd like to note down for myself, things that should help me in the year to come - IF I can keep them in mind.
1. I need to try to move my sleeping time towards 9:30 PM. Too often I've been staying up until midnight. I need more sleep than that.

2. I'll sleep better if I don't eat after 8 PM. Or maybe even earlier. And I might lose a little weight that way, too.

3. An hour spent writing fiction is more satisfying than an hour spent playing Diablo.

4. I've been too damned lonely this year - hell, these last few years. One way or another, I need more of a social life. And so does my family.

5. Fear is my great enemy. I need to find better ways to fight it.

6. If something stresses me, I need to cut it out - or at least reduce it. The trick is to realize what's stressing me.

7. Use the time I have.

And now it's time for me to go to bed. With luck, I'll be asleep by 9:45.

Postscript

Mar. 12th, 2005 08:54 pm
bobquasit: (Default)
Oh yeah - yesterday was my birthday. 41.

Not bad.
bobquasit: (Default)
Fifteen minutes ago I pulled into my driveway, home for the night. As I walked down the driveway to the back door, I hit a patch of invisible black ice. My feet went straight backward, I reflexively threw my arms forward, my bag flew off my arm and over the fence...and I went head-first into the fence and then down on my face.

Somewhere in the process I also injured my eyeball, apparently. I have a bloody red spot the size of a pencil eraser on the white of my left eye, right next to my pupil, and a large egg with scratches above my right temple.

Oddly enough, none of this hurt at the time. But I have no doubt that it will, in time.

So now I'll look like a beating victim for a few weeks.
bobquasit: (Default)
Canada accepts skilled workers.

Here's my score:


My duty, now, is to keep on top of the news (as much of it as is covered), and get my family out of this country once it's clear that the final steps to full fascism are about to be taken. Fortunately we're not too far from the border...and by that point, Canada may offer refugee status.
bobquasit: (Default)
I saw this on [livejournal.com profile] unquietsoul5's journal (he got it from [livejournal.com profile] lubedpumpkin), and instantly thought: "That looks like fun. But I'd be insane to do it myself, because A) no one cares, and B) really, no one cares - and anyone who does either doesn't read this or already knows this stuff".

But I'm really bored, so I guess I've gone insane. :D

I've added a few additional questions.
Read more... )

I can't believe I finished this.

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