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July 12, 2003 // 8:28 p.m. // A mixed bag
It's 7:42. It's 95 degrees right now in the house. and the swamp cooler isn't working because *someone* decided cooling the house all morning was more important. my mom and I are on such different hot/cold patterns. She wants cold air at seven in the morning when it's only 70 degrees outside, not when it's...102-103 according to my car's trip computer. Let me say that again. According to my car it's 102 at almost 8:00. I really shouldn't be surprised. It was 81 last night in the minutes before midnight. Last night on one of my nighttime photo tours I ran into a girl (presumably on her way to a club) who remarked to her group of friends as she passed me that she knew me from school. I wish I would have turned around. I'm also realizing that the living room scanner/copier/printer is a much better one and that I need to start scanning in here for now on. All of my photos that I've displayed at one point or another were scanned on the bad scanner and I need to scan them again on the good one. My sister's boyfriend knows his way around a kitchen as well as he does around a forest and I think it's making my sister uncomfortable. I just find it funny. Right now he's watching Sleepless In Seattle (his choice) with my sister but earlier today he was chopping wood with my dad. Yesterday he was marinating with my mom and tomorrow he's fishing with my sister. She's not used to being with a guy who does what she calls, "girly things like cooking and watching chick-flicks" but who also loves to rock and roll and use manly tools like chainsaws and axes. In fact, just minutes ago I got off the computer in the room where they were watching the movie and immediately my sister jumped on it. I'm guessing from her expression she doesn't want to watch the movie. Meanwhile, he's watching it closely. On a completely different ramble does anyone remember that episode of The Simpsons from three years ago where Homer is watching Bachman-Turner-Overdrive perform and they announce that they'll play all of the old favorites after they dip into the new album and Homer says, "no talking, no new crap. 'Takin' Care Of Business.' Now!" That's what I feel like yelling at most of the concerts I go to. I seem to miss artists when they come through promoting an album of theirs that I like but am unaware of its existence until two years after its released. When I head to the show, 2/3 of their set is the new stuff. All the more reason to invent a time machine I suppose. It's 8:23 and still hot. Down to 87 inside and probably 100 on the porch. Humidity is low too. Of course I'd rather have it be hot than cold so it's not that bad. I'll need to remember this dehydrated stuffy feeling when it's January and I'm complaining about waking up at 5:00 with 11 degree temps and snow.