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... )

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.

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.

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)
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)
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 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.
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!

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.

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.

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.

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