Today was our first outing to the Kohl's up near Lakeline Mall. Sweet Jesus, you damn near need to have a 4x4 vehicle to get over the so-called speed bumps they have there. In all seriousness, these things were obnoxiously huge...I've never had a speed bump actually STOP my car.

Here's the pattern I've been recognizing: internet works in the morning, doesn't work in the afternoon. Does it have something to do with the heat? Hell if I know. The only thing I know for sure is that the problem lies outside of the apartment.

Anyway, I think Selina was ready to strangle a few Time Warner Cable employees on Saturday. As I said on Friday's Curses, Again posting, we called to report that our internet connection was once again down. Selina talked to a technician and asked for an appointment on Sunday (because we had a vet appointment for Ratchet in the morning and were going to be looking at houses in Pflugerville/Round Rock all afternoon).

Well, while we were in Pflugerville, a TWC technician called and said he was on his way to the house. I was like, "Uh, we aren't in Austin. A tech wasn't supposed to come by until tomorrow." I proceeded to tell him that there was no way we were going to be back at the apartment and he said he would call back. A few minutes later, Selina gets a call from someone at the dispatch center.

Oh, if Selina could have choked someone through the phone, I think she would have. Now I only heard one side of the conversation (Selina's, of course), but judging by what she was saying, the person on the other end was quite rude -- rude enough, in fact that Selina not only threatened to terminate service, but had to hang up the phone before she blew up on the person. I could tell she was upset because she started to get that tone of voice that Ratchet and I fear because we know someone's about to get in trouble. We're talking DEFCON 2, Cuban Missle Crisis, "I've got my finger on the button" type stuff.

Selina said that the person not only told her that we had made the scheduling mistake, but that if we didn't like the time they had picked for us that we'd have to wait until next Saturday before they'd send someone else out. Preposterous, if you ask me.

Several hours later, Selina was calm enough to call TWC back and talked to someone with a little more sense, I guess. We got an appointment on Monday, but it means that I have to leave work in order to let the tech into the apartment so that he can check on things. Man, I don't know how anyone else feels about Time Warner Cable's customer service, but I think it sucks big donkey nuts.

I'm actually writing this post from our own network -- I don't know what's going on. One day it's working, the next day it isn't...

It appears as though the cable modem wasn't the problem after all...the horn of plenty has run dry again. Damn. Now we have to hope and pray that we can get a TWC technician to show up on Sunday. The reason I say "hope and pray" is because we don't actually have an appointment -- we have some sort of quasi-appointment that would only be fulfilled if someone else cancels. Double damn.

Swapped out the bad cable modem this morning at the Time Warner office up north (no line...woo-hoo), then headed back to the apartment to hook everything back up. After a few minutes of getting all the cables connected and resetting the wireless router, Firefox springs to life on both my Mac G4 tower and Selina's MacBook, overflowing with all the goodness of the internet like a Thanksgiving cornucopia.

Oh, how we missed thee!

Selina and I are practically living in the Dark Ages right now. Our cable modem died a slow and painful death over the last few days, with even Time Warner throwing in the towel. Now I have the pleasure of taking the damn thing back to the TWC center on Mopac and Duval to exchange it for a new one tomorrow. Wee.

Have you ever gotten one of those sore spots on the roof of your mouth that seems to be the magnetic polar opposite of tortilla chips? Yeah, I have one of those right now. I picked up ONE tortilla chip and put it in my mouth -- and I swear that the damn thing immediately turned sideways (pointy side up, of course) and jammed into the sore spot like it was a guided missle.

Several weeks back Selina and I had decided to go with a realtor (Craig Noling) that was recommended to us by her former boss and a former co-worker instead of her parents' next door neighbor. He took us to look at a few houses on Thursday since we both had the day off. He seemed quite knowledgeable and wasn't pushy at all. While we were a little disappointed in the houses he showed us (too small and too old), we were confident that our next outing would be better.

Well, it doesn't look like there's going to be a next time with Craig.

To put a long story short, Selina's parents practically demanded that we dump Craig and go with their neighbor. The reason? The neighbor was offering 1% cash back and Craig wasn't. Well, that wasn't the only reason we were given, but it's the only one that held any water. Alas, in order to avoid any potential problems with the parental units, we called the neighbor and told her we were going to switch to her.

You know, I don't really care who our realtor is (I'm fine with going with the neighbor), but I just don't agree with the tactics that were used. The way Selina's parents talked to her upset me a little and they talked about Craig like he just stepped off the realtor school bus, Real Estate for Dummies book in hand. I mean, I really liked the guy. Now one of us has to email/call him and let him know the bad news -- kinda makes me feel like a jerk, but I guess it could be worse. At least he had only invested a day with us rather than weeks. Then I would have really felt like a jerk.

I saw someone walking outside of our building who looked like her face was on upside-down. Well, not exactly. I think she had dark eye-liner on just the bottom part of her eyes, and then she had really long bangs covering her forehead. Whatever it was that she did, it made her face look wierd. Kinda like a Picasso painting.



Anyway, I don't think she worked here -- at least I've never seen her -- so I'm assuming she was coming back from Hula Hut or something.

Did you know that there is a street here in Austin called Cockburn? I kid you not. Selina and I saw it this morning when we were leaving the United Heritage Credit Union on Manchaca and were driving through the neighborhoods towards Westgate. I laughed so hard I damn near ran a stop sign.



Makes me wonder if they have any problems with people stealing their signs like the town of Fucking, Austria. Now there's a sign worth stealing...

You've likely seen the Pizza Hut commercial that says that 50 new Yorkers were invited to a taste testing at a fine restaurant called Tuscani (which I can't find using Google) and are fooled into thinking that they were eating pasta prepared by the in-house chef. Selina and I decided to give the Creamy Chicken Alfredo pasta a try (I'm eating the leftovers for lunch as I write this posting) and I have two questions: who were these 50 New Yorkers invited to do the taste test and do they actually know what good Italian food tastes like?

That's not to say that Pizza Hut's Creamy Chicken Alfredo pasta isn't good, because it is. But if you were to put a plate of Pizza Hut pasta next to, say, a comparable dish from Olive Garden, I'd most likely pick the Olive Garden one.

Which got me to thinking -- maybe there is a bell curve relationship between the number of stars a restaurant has and the tastiness of their dishes. Hmm...let's assume that Pizza Hut is at the lower end of the star rating and Tuscani is at the upper end. Assuming that my theory is correct, one can easily see how the two could be confused.



But alas, since I have never eaten at a restaurant that proudly advertises how many stars they have, I have no evidence to support my theory. Guess I won't be winning any Nobel prizes anytime soon.

Damn! The Lakers got their asses handed to them in what is being called "one of the most lopsided victories in NBA Finals history". Serves them right, bunch of crybabies. Congrats to the Celtics -- although Kevin Garnett was making no sense at all when Michele Tafoya was trying to interview them. I don't know how I'd react to winning an NBA championship, either.

Since I didn't bring a lunch with me to work today, I headed over to McDonald's for a Quarter Pounder with Cheese. While I was waiting in line, the person in front of me ordered Big 'N Tasty burger -- with extra tomatoes. Apparently she lives under a rock.

She pretty much threw a fit when they told her that they were not putting tomatoes on any of their sandwiches due to the salmonella outbreak. She started huffing and puffing that she'd just walked across the street, in the heat, from the Thundercloud because they told her the same thing and she couldn't understand why she couldn't get a lousy tomato in this town. She then stomped her feet and said she wasn't moving from that spot until she talked to a manager and got at least one slice of tomato on her burger "because she was an American citizen and she had the right to eat whatever she wants". Sigh.



Thankfully the manager pulled her to the side so that the rest of us with an IQ over 70 could order our salmonella-free food and get on with our lives. I don't know exactly what the manager told her, but she stormed out of the McDonald's vowing to never eat there again because "neither the government nor McDonald's was going to tell her what she can and can't eat".

It's people like this that need to eat a tomato and die.

Have you ever noticed that the actors in commercials for things like the KFC Snacker and the McDonald's Snack Wrap hold the item like it is a 30 lb. rainbow trout? Neither of these items require two hands, yet everyone is using both hands. Yes, I know it's a marketing tactic, but I find it to be very annoying -- especially when I order one and it comes out looking like a chicken nugget on a dinner roll.

Phone calls from unknown numbers have become commonplace to us now that we are getting married. Everyone from photographers to caterers to florists apparently have our number now and there is no escaping them. Selina got one about an hour ago that left her a little confused, though.

She told me that the person on the phone was a representative from Royal Prestige Health Spectrum (who?) and had told her we were winners of a 3 day / 2 night vacation package for signing up at one of the booths at the Bridal Extravaganza. When Selina asked which booth (because the company name didn't ring a bell), the person told her that it was the one with all the pots and pans.

A light bulb went off in Selina's head -- oh, that one. Turns out we had avoided that particular booth like the plague. I don't know...something about a bald guy yelling at everyone walking in the door to "sign up to win fabulous prizes" while practically tossing clipboards at people Shinobi-style freaked me out.

So all we had to do to claim this "fabulous prize" was to show up at some Holiday Inn and enjoy a dinner cooked right before our eyes (on their cookware, no doubt). If that doesn't scream "high pressure sales scheme", then I don't know what does. A quick look on Consumer Affairs also turns up some interesting articles. Scaring new couples into spending $2000-$3000 on cookware by saying that Teflon causing Alzheimer's? You have got to be kidding...and I love how the president of the parent company denies everything. What a douche.

Anyway, Selina was pretty much forced into "reserving" a time slot over the phone (apparently the lady wouldn't take no for an answer), but needless to say, we will not be attending. From what I've read, it's not even worth sitting through the sales pitch to get the prize.

Today me, Selina, Selina's mom, Liliana, my sister and Junger (my sister's fiance) made a trek to the Bridal Extravaganza at the Palmer Events Center. Boy, talk about overwhelming! We walked in and I was immediately branded by one of the greeters as THE GROOM (see sticker below). Selina received a much shinier BRIDE sticker -- I was quite jealous. So, I didn't really mind the sticker (I was actually quite proud to wear it), but it reminded me of that Simpson's episode where Homer goes to the mental hospital for wearing the pink shirt and asks the doctor how they can tell who is sane and insane. The doctor replies with "Well, we have a very simple method" and proceeds to stamp his hand with an INSANE stamp. Haha.



Anyway, while Selina and her entourage wandered off to look at flowers, cakes and dresses, it was my job to talk to photographers. Now, for those of you who don't know, I'm an introvert. Granted I can put on the face of an extrovert if need be, I'd rather cower in the corner and watch as all the noisy people ramble by. Today, however, called for me to summon the extrovert within. Painful as it was, I managed to survive -- and I talked to a few really nice photographers in the process.

While on the subject of photographers, there was one who was quite rude. Most people were happy to give me pricing information and talk to me about photo layout, styles, number of photographers, hours included, logistics and such. Some of them were even kind enough to answer me when I asked how they handled a bridezilla (not that Selina is one, I was just curious). This one guy (can't remember his damn name) apparently just didn't give a shit. He had two photo albums and some large prints hanging in his booth. The photos were nice, but when I asked him if he had any prices or packages (because there wasn't any on the table), he told me to go to his website. When I asked him about his style of shooting, he mumbled something about it being photo-journalistic (which I knew but I was just trying to start up a conversation), handed me a business card and told me that everything could be found on his website. I smiled, told him thanks and walked over to the nearest trash can to dump the card. I don't know what crawled up his ass, but he sure wasn't coming anywhere near my wedding with that sort of attitude.

Well, while we didn't win any of the prizes being given away, we did walk out with an appointment for Selina at Alfred Angelo's, some possible florists, maybe a couple of people to look at for the rehearsal dinner, some viable photographer choices (that fit our budget) and a belly full of wedding cake. Oh Jesus, the wedding cake. I've had enough of it to last me until our wedding...

I laugh at their misfortune. Go Celtics.

Anytime I pick up an Austin Chronicle (which usually coincides with when I need a haircut since my haircut place tends to put coupons in there), I like reading Tom Tomorrow's This Modern World. As a political cartoonist, he likes to show how off-the-wall our political dialogue has become, especially in the media. It probably doesn't hurt that he seems to share the same dislike of the Bush administration as I do. He saw through Bush's shenanigans back when it wasn't cool to see through Bush's shenanigans -- and drew cartoons about it. Anyway, here's one of his latest ones...

I don't think there's another team in the league that I despise more than the Lakers. Well, the Suns are pretty close, but my Laker-hating goes right down to the core. Sorry Spurs, but for the next few weeks I'm a Celtics fan. Go Boston!

I've been seeing more and more people riding bikes to work these days -- it's a great way to save gas and stay healthy at the same time. Heck, if I still had a bike (mine got stolen off our balcony in case you didn't know), I think I might be up for a little exercise myself. But this posting isn't about me riding a bike; it's about other people riding bikes. Specifically, it's about people riding bikes in the middle of the road while the bike lane sits there empty. Oooo, that burns me up.

It's usually the Tour de France wannabes hogging up the road, too. You know which ones I'm talking about -- the people who dress like they are meeting up with Lance Armstrong for a trial run? Yeah, those fools. I don't care (well, maybe a little) if they are in front of me when there is no bike lane, but when they are trying to pump along at half the speed limit (or less) while I'm stuck behind them and there's a perfectly good unused bike lane, then that's when I get peeved.



Sometimes it gets to the point where I just want to roll down my window and yell, "Hey ass-clown, get your spandex butt in the bike lane!", but somehow I think I'd be labeled in the biker community as a non-bike friendly person, which is completely not true. I just have little tolerance for jerks.

With Montana and South Dakota closing out the primary season tonight and Obama finally clinching the nomination, it's time to look forward to November. In the end, I tip my hat to Senator Hillary Clinton. As much as she annoyed me at times, I do have to say that I would have backed her if she would have won the nomination.

Here's the good news: we put down our deposit and booked 12 Oaks Ranch for our reception, which certainly takes a load off of our minds for now as far as the wedding goes. I think we've decided (pending any catering finds at the upcoming Bridal Extravaganza on June 8th) that we are going to go with the catering provided by 12 Oaks Ranch as well. The owners, Jeanie and Gary, happen to be part owners of the Bert's BBQ stores here in Austin. In fact, Gary invited us to have lunch at the Far West store on Friday and Selina gave the meats her stamp of approval. However, she may change the sides to something besides beans and potato salad. Jeanie and Gary said they would provide samples of their other sides for Selina to taste at a later date.

Now for the bad news: poor Selina came down with something yesterday evening that led to a fever and sore throat, which is always a bad combination. Fever broke early this morning, but the sore throat hasn't completely gone away. We're treating it with a combination of Tylenol Sore Throat (a new product we are trying that seems to be helping) and warm liquids (soup, tea, etc). Fever hasn't returned, so I'm hoping the worst is over with. Guess we'll find out in the morning.