Lynn Gold (figmo) wrote,
Lynn Gold

  • Mood:

o/~ "I made the kishka, I made the kishka..." o/~

I had a hard time getting out of bed this morning. Part of it was all the crap I'd taken the night before to get to sleep; part of it was the really cool "Meet the Press" I was watching. I don't like the way the new NBC affiliate airs it at 8am; the old one aired it at 7am and followed it with a very good local newscast. The new one airs one hour of "Weekend Today" at 7am with no local cut-ins and then puts on "Meet the Press" on time delay. YUCK.

Anyhow, the first part about Enron almost put me back to sleep, but just as I had to leave the guests were Pat Buchanan and Ralph Nader. Both were ostensibly there to promote their new books, but Jim Ruppert talked to both about the 2000 Presidential debaucleelection. What had me amazed was watching these two guys from opposite ends of the political and social spectrum agreeing with each other! Scary as it may seem, even Pat Buchanan was seeming like a resonable guy!

Then Jim Ruppert started asking him about his views on immigration. Buchanan's true colors, or should I say a lack of desire to have any colors other than "lily white" around him, showed through. What a jerk. He was going on and on about how "Asians don't fit into our culture because they're not 'western'" and said similarly snide and generalistic things about Mexicans. DOUBLE-YUCK.

I'm sorry, but people don't choose to be born with a particular ethnic, racial, or citizenship. Birth happens. People are what they are. I wanted to scream, "Get over it!" but didn't. I should have. Because I didn't have anyone to talk to, I didn't discover I had laryngitis till I got to the radio station. Eeep.

I immediately made myself a cup of Throat Coat tea. It helped a little. I had a cup of hot coffee; today's brew was Kauai Peaberry. It helped a little.

Next I made a cup of cranberry apple zinger. That helped a little more. My fourth cup was an ephedra-based tea designed to open up my sinuses (Dr. Burt's orders). By the time I finished my shift I was much more audible, although I didn't quite sound like "me."

I had two passes to the San Jose Auto Show, so I went to Warren's house after the shift to pick him up so we could go. We went to park in the SJ Convention Center garage only to be told the show ended in less than an hour, and that it'd be $3.00 for the privilege of parking for that short period of time. Warren decided we didn't need to go, then got cranky when I didn't feel like impulsively going to see a movie.

It's a "Warren-thing," and one of the few we argue about. He always decides at the last minute we ought to go see a movie, and by the time he decides this, it's too late to plan for it. Movies out here start around 7pm to 7:45pm unless you want to catch the late showings around 10pm. I am not up to late showings with my work schedule. I also need to eat before the movie, and I loathe walking into a movie that's already started. What's the point of paying to see not-the-whole-thing? For me it's sheer torture; the kind of thing Dad used to do to punish the family when my brother would make us late to a movie.

Anyhow, I was barely up for the auto show, and was not up to sitting in a dark room for two hours. I had gone to be in Warren's company, as we hadn't seen each other in several days. Instead, he was really angry about every little thing I did in the car. He wouldn't come out and say it, but he really wanted to see a movie, but he had forgotten to be prepared with a schedule. I might have been amenable to it this time had I known what was playing where, but neither of us had that information handy. I didn't want to just wander to a theatre because Warren would try to rope me into walking in on a movie already in progress, effectively making me miserable and spoiling any chance I'd ever have of enjoying it because the ending would be spoiled but I wouldn't have the beginning necessary to know what the hell was going on. UCK.

Anyhow, I dropped him back at his place and went home. While he was watching a videotaped movie with his mother, I finally got around to hooking up my video system -- or at least what I could find of it -- and put away two baskets of laundry.

While I was at it I made myself half the kishka I'd bought the day before. YUM. The stuff was heavier and fattier than I'd had in a while, but nonetheless pleasurable. If only I knew how many calories were in real kishka!

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