Bug Trap

Unlike most people I know, and especially my mother-in-law, I LIKE spiders and bugs. Well, I don't roaches, no matter how clean entymologist tell me they are. And gnats and flies are definitely off the list too. Whenever I find a spider, I have my husband put it outside so that it can live and eat more of the bugs that I don't like.

This past March, my son received a bug house as a birthday gift. Now this must be the most annoying, worse bug house I have ever seen. At first I thought it cute with it's decorative bugs and inside lanscaping. It has a button you can push that plays the most annoying bug sounds I've ever heard. And inside are three bugs that light up. Instead of looking like fireflys, they look more and more like radioactive roaches to me.

Well, spring has come and so have the bugs. Some big wolf spider thought it would find a meal in my bedroom and, instead of tossing it outside, I decided to put it in this bug house. It was all for naught because the bug died a mere 24 hours later. All dead bugs are icky and nasty so I had to have my son clean it out.

And just a week later I found another large wolf spider! My kids were thrilled and hit that noise button a hundred times. I'm sure all that ambient noise drove the spider insane; either that or it was scared of the radioactive roaches that occupied it's cell. Whatever the cause, it found a hole in the handle and never came out. I'm sure it's shrunken body is still in the bug house.

It was only a day later when we discovered another spider! I put the spider in the bug house and instantly regretted it. This one was probably going to die too. I used to save spiders and now I'd inavertly been the cause of two deaths. A third death was quite forseeable. So I took the bug cage outside and put it on it's side with the top off. Surely the spider would crawl out and escape.

Six hours later the idiot spider was still there. It happily had strung a couple of web lines and was sitting on one of the radioactive roaches. Since I couldn't just leave the bug cage outside for the kids to steal, I decided that spider had to go by force. So I took the bug and shook it upside down- and the spider was still there! I banged it against the wall and banged it against the ground to get that spider out and back into it's natural habitat.

How does the story end? Well, I killed it of course. You see, as I banged the bug cage on the ground, the spider fell out. But I banged it again and accidently smashed the spider as I hit it against the ground.

So the bug house of death has been retired and I will no longer try to catch bugs for my kids to see. They'll just have to catch their own bugs.

The Search is Over

I have missed out on the opportunity to buy a couple of motorcycles since I couldn’t just go running off whenever I saw a deal. School has to come first, especially since it has been such a rough semester.

I finally had the time to go and look last weekend. Here is the description from the online Cycle Trader. The image was of a showroom lined with many rows of neatly lined bikes. I have seen that sort of thing before. Some places don't bother to keep up with photos of all the bikes they sell and just have a stock picture they use.

2001 YAMAHA FZ1, blue, 14K miles, very clean, new tires, $5,000, obo, All Texas Powersport, McKinney TX, 972-XXX-XXXX

I called and talked to a man about a bike. Sounded good. Not “too good to be true” good. It just sounded like a good deal. He described the bike as being in great shape with custom tribal graphics job. 14k on the odometer isn’t too bad either. He slipped and told me it was $4500, not the $5k from the ad. I took advantage of the offer and made arrangements to go first thing in the morning.

When I was about an hour away from the shop, I get a call. He asks me how much he had said it would be. I reminded him that he had told me $4500. He told me that the price he had quoted me was for another bike he had. He started to ask for me to meet him in the middle somewhere on the price, but changed his mind quickly and left it at, “If that’s what I told you, that’s what you’ll pay.”

Up to this point I have had different bells and whistles sounding off one warning after another, but I had determined to check this bike out all the way.

The shop is on the southbound feeder, but I saw it and the bike out front from the northbound lane before I exited and made the u-turn. Excitement mounted when I saw the bike, but then I realized something was amiss with this shop. It wasn’t a bike shop. They sell trailer homes there. There is a guy out front that likes to work on bikes and 4-wheelers and occasionally sells a bike or two. There is no showroom lined with bikes of any kind. Just a shack.

Remember the ad at the top? The description says “very clean.” When I walked up, this is the bike I found.

• Engine cases scuffed and gouged from a (some?) fall/slide(s).
• Fairing sanded off from sliding.
• Crash evidence on levers.
• Crash evidence on Jardine CF muffler.
• Worn, rusted, and un-maintained chain and sprockets.
• The clutch cable, likely the original piece, didn’t look like it had ever been lubed.
• Tires were low quality and improperly sized. Though claimed to be almost new with a couple of hundred miles on them, they had signs of wear and age.
• Brakes were poor. Though there was lots of pad left, they were probably aged or glazed to the point of not working, nevermind the fluid probably being the OEM stuff and needing to be flushed and bled. These brakes are straight off Yamaha’s finest performance motorcycles. This bike felt like it’s brakes were made of wood and had about as much stopping power as a jelly doughnut.
• The whole bike was covered in scuffs and scratches from someone probably stunting it and climbing around on it.
• Custom tribal graphics? More like stickers to cover more scratches.
• Behind the seat on the tail of the bike was an Evil Calvin peeing on something.

I took a test ride and can say that the motor is probably good, but that’s about it. We parted company after I explained that I didn’t want to buy a fixer-upper, especially so close to blue book value. His boss was probably just as happy that the bike didn’t sell so he could try to get more for it anyway.

With dark clouds hanging over us (literally and figuratively) we were homeward bound, empty-handed. We made a pit stop at a random fast food joint next to the highway and headed off again. I noticed a Harley Davidson dealership on the feeder next to the onramp and thought out loud that sometimes bike shops cluster together, and wondered if there happened to be a Japanese dealer nearby. Just after getting on the on-ramp, I saw it: a big red wing on the side of a large truck. That isn’t a common sight outside the realm of biking. I made it back around to the Honda dealership so I could look at something shiny and forget the earlier trauma.

When I walked into the Honda dealership there wasn’t much in the way of used bikes out. I asked if they had anything in the back. They didn’t, but they had another dealership about an hour north. About five minutes later the salesman comes back and tells me they have an ’02 FZ1, and if I was interested, they could have it at their shop in a couple of hours. I walked into a Honda shop and walked out with a Yamaha.

So, long story short(er), after all the hassle, I now have a shiny ’02 FZ1 in blue with a very noisy pipe. I’ll have to fix that one.

Mexican Women Want Their Men Back

I might have called it hillarious if it wasn't so true. Some Mexican women sent a letter in for publication stating they wanted their men to come back home. They wanted them home to help raise the child, till their corn fields, and work on the jewelry. The money they send home isn't worth living your whole life without your husband or your father.

Quote from FrontPageMagazine.com:

Not all Mexican women want to have “anchor babies” in the Unites States. The real Mexican women of Tecalpulco want their migrant men to come back home and take care of the babies they left behind. “Close the U.S. borders!” they say. “Send our men back home!”

Tecalpulco is a small village in Guerrero, Mexico, on Mexico’s southernmost border. It is just north of the city of Campuzano. Tecalpulco is famous for hand-made craft and jewelry. There is an internationally known artisans establishment there called ArtCamp. Vacationers know the place. The artisans run a coop, and they’re subject to the pressures of global market manipulation.

But their men don’t care. They’ve all moved norte, to join the mass trespassing movement in America. And the women of southern Mexico are tired of this nonsense. They have expressed their protest to BadEagle.com, where a number of pieces on Mexican issues have been posted in recent weeks. BadEagle.com has received direct mail from the artisanas campesinas, the women who make the famous jewelry.

I’ve gotten permission to post this correspondence. The women write from the heart in imperfect English, as one might expect.

Here is the first, from May 4, 2006:

When our men went to the United States they were young and adventurous; They have had their adventure, now we want them to come home to us and to their families and to their home country. Close the border so that the ones who are here do not leave. We have work now and the men can help us to sand-down and polish the jewelry.

Our group is of women from the village of Tecalpulco. The tradition of our village is handcrafted fashion jewelry. Since the men have left, we women have organized a good business of fashion jewelry production in cottage industry. The men can help us, they don’t have any excuse to stay [in America].

Thank you very much from the hearts of the women of Artesanas Campesinas.

Rosalinda Mejia Baron
Eva Albavera
Viveros, Contact Personealbavera@yahoo.com.mx
Telefonos:001 762 62 73481001
762 62 22758

Funny!

Copperfield Uses Illusion to Evade Robbery

WEST PALM BEACH, Florida — Illusionist David Copperfield magically escaped getting robbed.

After his show at a West Palm Beach performing arts center Sunday Copperfield was walking with two female assistants back to their tour bus when four teenagers pulled up in a black car and two armed demanded the group's belongings, according to police.

An assistant handed over $400 from her pockets while the other gave up her purse with euro200, $100, her passport, plane tickets and a cellphone. Copperfield refused to empty his pockets, the report said.

Copperfield says he turned his pockets inside out to reveal nothing in them, even though he was carrying his passport, wallet and cell phone.

Kitty Rescue!

Good news! That dang cat is safe!

Cat trapped for 14 days rescued in New York

NEW YORK — After 14 days trapped in the innards of a Greenwich Village building, Molly the cat finally emerged wearing a look on her face that said, "What's all the fuss about?"

As a crowd of reporters and onlookers jostled for a glance, the 11-month-old black cat appeared docile and unscathed despite her ordeal, which came to a happy end on
Friday after a volunteer pulled her to safety from a crawl space.

"I think you'll all agree that she is in great shape," said a proud Peter Myers, a delicatessen owner in the building who kept Molly in his store to catch mice.

Molly's distressed meows — audible from the sidewalk outside the building — became international news, and rescuers worked almost around the clock for her safe retrieval.

The activity began after the cat wandered into a narrow space between walls and got lost in the building's complex network of beams and pipes.

Those involved in the rescue effort drilled and hammered out bricks in the cellar of the 157-year-old edifice, trying everything from special cameras to traps to locate her and get her out. Kittens were used as bait to appeal to Molly's maternal side. A pet psychic and self-described "cat therapist" even stopped by to offer a hand.

But in the end, it was good old-fashioned elbow grease that got the job done.

Rescuers drilled a hole in the wall from inside the store, cutting through layers of brick to get to Molly, said Mike Pastore, field director for Animal Care & Control of New York City, a private organization with a city contract to handle lost, injured and unwanted animals.

Animal Care & Control will set up a link on its Web site for people to donate to help with repairs at the deli.

Molly was finally retrieved by Kevin Clifford, a tunnel worker at a project nearby who had been volunteering for the rescue effort.

"I gave what they needed, and lent a hand to it," he said.

The animal didn't come easily at first, said Pastore.

"It was twisting and turning, paws were flying everywhere," he said. "It took a little struggle to put her back in a cage."

Molly's first meal? Nibbles of roasted pork, sardines in oil and water, Myers said. Hearty fare, but perhaps not surprising for a feline who spends her time in Myers of Keswick, a deli specializing in meat pies, clotted cream and other British food specialties.

"I'm amazed at how well she looks," Myers said. "She always was a fit cat, otherwise she wouldn't have survived 14 days in that hole."

Dog attack gone to the dogs now

It's a dog attack. The dog has your child in it's jaws and won't let it go. You make a decision and decide to ________________. Remember, this is America so you have options. You don't have to call three diferent organizations nor sign any paperwork. Read the following story about a dog attack in England recently.

His mother Sherry, 23, said: "The dog had him by the back of his head and wouldn't let go. He was throwing Nicholas around like a rag doll. There was blood everywhere. If Nicholas had not covered his face with his hands, he could have been scarred for life."

Husband Michael said: "I kicked Mitch to get him off Nicholas. Then I ran into the kitchen, grabbed a bread knife and stabbed Mitch four times with it. The dog ran round the front and Sherry hit him with a broom."

Nicholas escaped briefly by climbing on to a car in a nearby car park. But the dog pulled him back and attacked him again, blacking his eye and biting him on his legs and body.

"By this time, a neighbour had called the police and there were 13 police cars outside," said Mr Andrea.

"The police dog-handler couldn't snare Mitch. They called a vet to give him a lethal injection but the vet didn't want to know.

"That's when the police armed response vehicle turned up. They got me to sign a statement saying I approved of them shooting Mitch."

Playing politics when a killer dog attacking a child is lose is sad.

I have a friend whose small dogs were attacked by large dog that jumped into the backyard. The neighbor is the one who used his belt and got control of the large dog. My friend called 911 because she was worried that the neighbor might shoot the dog! Ahh, a bit of a soft heart there still. :)

Take a Survey! Click here!

I took a social survey sponsered by Harvard Univerity and initially thought the questions were quite provoking. It started by asking my opinion on two short proposals for a pretend charity. The first part of the survey asked this:

There are many popular misconceptions about the backgrounds of people in need of public assistance. Contrary to what many people believe, the majority of the recipients are white (38%), followed by African Americans (37 %), with the remaining composed of all other minority groups (Latinos, Native Americans, Asian Americans, etc.). Therefore, it is mainly minorities who are helped by this program.

1. To what extent do you think that the above statement is well-written?
2. To what extent do you agree with the passage?
3. To what extent do you think that what the passage says is true?
4. To what extent do you think you would like to work with the author of the passage?

My answers were truthful. Yes, this info was true. But no, these facts did not inspire me to work with this charity.

The next sample was more general and the questions slightly different:

WELCOME TO THE WORKING FAMILIES PROGRAM

Our name defines two important challenges of everyday life: family and work. Sometimes these two things are in conflict, and this is can make life difficult. We are trying to change that. By working with families and organizations alike, The Working Families Program helps children, working parents and their employers find a better balance between responsibilities at home and work. By using a real world approach with practical solutions, we are making our vision a reality.

1. To what extent do you think that the above passage is well-written?
2. To what extent do you think the announcement would be affective in garnering support for the organization?
3. To what extent do you feel that you are in agreement with the goals of the organization?
4. To what extent do you think that some of the revenue from American taxpayers should support such an organization?

The rest of the survey dealt with my opinions about why the poor are poor. It is a social survey afterall. The end of the survey made me raise an eyebrow because it asked me if I was happy to white, thought my fate was tied to other white people, and then asked me if I was ashamed or not to be white. Well, I could care less about being white and definitely don't think my teachers or other friends were nicer to me just because I am white. I realized that this must be the meat of the survey- it's a race v. povery survey. The surveyors were trying to discover if my race had anything to do with my opinions of the poor. At least that's what I thought....

The survey ended with an article they called the "Debriefing Sheet." Reading it was rather shocking. I've never found this social stance to be true! I wonder who would take care of this

In this study we explore the relationship among political attitudes. Previous research shows that white Americans are more likely to support government policies that are perceived to benefit their own racial group (e.g. affirmative action for white women, but not blacks). Previous research shows that among American whites, support for social spending for public education and health care for the poor increases when subjects are believe the target of the help will be to their own group. We are curious as to what extent African-Americans are similar in showing an in-group favoritism in this regard. The proposed research seeks to understand the psychological mechanisms underlying the racial double-standard to social policy. We are hopeful that one day, society may benefit from a greater understanding of the process and cause of group double standards. If you would like more information about the theories motivating this research, specific hypotheses being tested, and more information on the investigators, upon completion of this research information will be posted at www.cdnresearch.net.

I feel cheated! I feel like I fell for their questions and fit their stereotypical white person. I said NO to the first program synopsis that spoke of race and helping mainly minorities but said YES to the program that would help in families in general with no mention of race. Now, I didn't say NO to the first synopsis because of race, but there are some researchers that will conclude that and I assume that this researcher will. After all, he already believes the statement that whites are mainly attracted to programs that help only whites. While he states that the main point of his research is to survey blacks and see if, as a race group, have a favoritism towards only their own race, he can easily publish the data and also state that his data backs up previous statement concerning whites.

*grumble grumble*

Louisiana criminals give Texas 2 thumbs down

Oh, sometimes after fighting the good and long hard fight against crime, you need to a honest reporter like this one to give the public a bit of truthful laughs. The following article highlights a Louisiana criminal who named himself "B-stupid" and really, really doesn't think of Houston, Texas as the new promised land anymore.

From the Houston Chronicle:

Harris is no stranger to violent crime, police say.

Records show Harris has been arrested several times in Louisiana on charges ranging from disturbing the peace to murder. However, he was never convicted of any serious crimes.

But Texas is a brand new world to the Louisiana criminal element! Read and enjoy!

Brian Harris said Ivory Harris probably will be tried in New Orleans before hecomes back to Texas. He said Texas authorities will provide information to Louisiana prosecutors to assist during the punishment phase of his trial. Or, he said, the situation could be reversed if he is tried in Texas.

"We certainly know, according to New Orleans detectives, that Ivory Harris doesn't want to come back to Texas," Brian Harris said.


Ivory Harris and Hampton were among 16 Hurricane Katrina evacuees from New Orleans who were targeted by HPD in recent months for violence that stemmed from rival housing projects' gangs. They are accused of slayings, robberies and drug-related offenses, authorities said.

"If you look at the very beginning of all the people who were wanted, we know it's down to quite a few," Brian Harris said.

He credited that with HPD's strategy of relieving witnesses of the fear of retaliation.

"Evacuees here didn't have to fear being intimidated or killed," said Brian Harris, whose squad was formed in January to address slayings in southwest Houston.

"What happened in New Orleans is they would arrest someone and in a couple of weeks he was released. People would say why should I be a witness if I had to live in the same (housing) complex with this guy."

He said that people eventually found out that there was a different justice system in Texas and that "you really do some time in Texas jails."

Television show receives fine for indecency

I received this email recently and am quite happy at the results. What I truly wonder about is the mindset of the producers, writers, and directors who thought that this kind of action was good. Did they think this was normal in people's lives? Did they think this kind of programming was the next big thing and they were going to be the first?

The fine has been levied on the television stations and so it should be. Ultimately, they are the ones responsible for their programming. But I wonder if the television stations have reason to sue the staff of Without A Trace. It's my understanding that the producers of the show are the ones who rate their own programs for television. For the producers to tell the television stations that this show was self-rated and found to be allowable for television, shows a serious misrepresentation of their product, not just a little flub.

From an email sent by American Family Association:

You did it! FCC fines CBS $3.6 million for 'Without A Trace'

In January, 2005, we asked you to join us in filing formal complaints against CBS and their affiliate stations for broadcasting Without A Trace, complete with an extended teen-age orgy scene. Within days, 165,997 AFA on-line supporters had filed formal complaints with the FCC.

This week, the FCC announced it agrees with you and is fining 111 CBS stations 32,500 each for broadcasting this indecency. This major accomplishment happened because you took action! This is the largest fine ever against the networks and their stations.

In addition, the FCC reaffirmed a $550,000 fine against CBS for Janet Jackson's "wardrobe malfunction" at the 2004 Super Bowl.

I want to thank you for taking time to get involved. This proves we can make a difference when we join together!

TAKS Test: First Attempt

This week my oldest child took her first TAKS reading test for 3rd grade. She's had plenty of practice tests and done rather poorly on them. She keeps falling for the almost correct answer. Oh, not that I'm worried if she passed, but getting three questions wrong freaks her out.

Here's a sample of the story test she brought home this week:

Dear Sir or Madam:

I am a ten-year-old girl. I live in the Ballard neighborhood. I want to start a new P-Patch on my street. You might think someone my age can't handle a P-Patch. That's why I am working with a group of neighbors. We all have the same dream.

There are 20 neighbors in my P-Patch Planning Group. Sixteen members are adults, and four members are kids. We have taken field trips to four Seattle P-Patches and talked with the gardeners. The gardeners showed us how they work in their gardens. I've learned a lot. For example, I know how important it is to have good soil. I've even learned to use a tiller to stir up the hard dirt.

I have also learned what happens to the food grown in P-Patches. Every year, up to ten tons of food goes to needy people. I think that's neat! I would feel very good knowing that I grew food to help others. Some people on my street don't have much money. They would like to use the garden to grow food for their own families. I think that's neat, too.

My group found the best place for a P-Patch. I know P-Patch gardens should be at least 2,000 square feet. A church at the end of our block has been closed for three years. Nobody takes care of it. There are weeds all around. It's ugly and dirty and makes our neighborhood look bad. It would be nice to have a P-Patch there. The garden would look nice there, and it would be a nice place for neighbors to spend time together. There are no tall buildings around the old church, so the area gets plenty of sun. The sunflowers I want to plant there would be so happy!

Four people in my group know about organic gardens and will teach the rest of us. They will pay special attention to the kids (including me). So, we will learn how to be responsible gardeners. This kind of teamwork is a great idea!

Every person on my P-Patch Planning Group is writing a letter to you, too. I hope you will see how eager we are. We take the P-Patch program very seriously. Our neighborhood needs it!

Thank you,
Ellie Lewis.

She got the main idea question wrong:

1)Ellie wrote her letter mainly to-

X- show how much she knows about
making a garden.

correct answer was: give reasons why her group should
be allowed to start a P-Patch.

So she got pretty close there.

This question I really didn't expect

12. In which word do the letters er mean the same as in gardeners?

X- Flowers

Correct answer- Builders

It's a good question because students need to know that but I don't remember that ever being taught.

My Fuzzy Warm Pajama Pants are Blue

Its weird reading the newspaper sometimes. You can be happy, learn new stuff, and sometimes, get your fuzzy warm pajama pants shocked off of you. Well, that's what happened to me today. It seems somebody just up and decided to RENAME MY HOME! Yup, apparently "Fondren" was too passe and they needed to "breath life" into the area. Seems the ghosts of the Fondren family failed to guard the city so officials need to have them exorcized from the area. The officials think they can make the hookers on the corner wither way from boredom by renaming the area one of the those mundane neighborhood names that corporations always think of. Soon, the hookers will grow roots where they stand and become the next generation of beautiful Oak trees that will stand out against the many other thousands of Oak trees in the city of Houston.


From the Houston Chronicle:

Officials of a management district in Fondren Southwest hope the new moniker they have recently created for the entity will help breathe life into the area.

The management district board on Jan. 31 unanimously approved "Brays Oaks" as the district's working name although "Harris County Improvement District No. 5" will continued to be used for legal purposes.

The new appellation was culled from nearly 30 suggestions that an ad hoc committee received from residents through e-mail and postal mail since November, said Elaine Gaskamp, a member of the board who chaired the committee.

The board and the committee held a town meeting on Nov. 17 to solicit a new name that would give the district a distinct identity and improve the area's image.

The committee sought a name that is timeless, ties communities together without references to any specific subdivision or neighborhood but expresses a proud sense of ownership by those who live or work in the area.

Gaskamp said many names suggested identified Brays Bayou with
references to the natural environment of the area, including the abundance of
live oaks.

And I seriously doubt that most of the area even knew that there was a name change being considered.

Bathroom Reading Publication 17

Hey, who knew that IRS Publication 17 could be so entertaining!

"If you receive a bribe, include it in your income." pg.85

"You must include kickbacks, side commissions, push money, or similar payments you recieve in your income on Form 1040, line 21, or on Schedule C or SChedule C-EZ (Form 1040), if from your self-employment activity" pg. 87

"Illegal income, such as money from dealing illegal drugs, must be included in your income on Form 1040..." pg. 87

"You cannot deduct the cost of a wristwatch, even if there is a job requirement that ou know the correct time to properly perform your duties." pg. 195

Childhood horror stories

While playing online, my friends began discussing a whole lot of funny stories, worthing of being immortalized online forever. I've copied and published them here so that you can enjoy and laugh as hard as I did.

faerienne: when I was born on his 6th bday, my mom said happy bday, you have a baby sister, and he said take her back, I want a bike!

Josiah: When my mom was going to announce that she was pregnant with me, she told my sibs that we were getting a new addition. My brother John blurted out "a puppy?!".

The Mother Of All That Is Evil: my middle sister tried to squish my youngest sister "back to where she came from" by sitting on her
and bouncing a lot.

HarmonyGrace: My sister used to tell perfect strangers that Elvis was her dad

tivolimom: we told my little sister that mom found her in the back of an amc gremlin at the salvage yard.

tivolimom: mom wasn't happy

hamster_sandwich: my brother made me believe i was hatched once

insanelark: When I was born & the my mother told the nurse my name, she left to give my mom a chance to think about it. (I'm Jasa)

Lizita: my brothers varied between telling me I was adopted and that I was the first test tube baby.

Being thought we lived at K-Mart and would tell strangers that :/

belsonc: my siblings used to make faces at me when i was on my back in the crib, then slowly move around the crib until they were behind me, making my eyes roll back in my head...

tivolimom: my daughter used to tell perfect strangers that her daddy was at home drunk. again. funny thing? he doesn't drink.

faerienne: my brother told me I was the free one in the buy one get one, and that my parents bought our toilet and found me floating in it when it was delivered

hamster_sandwich: when my dad used to make me mad in public, i'd start yelling 'rape' as loud as i could

tivolimom is ashamed to admit that she taught tivlet the elder to yell 'whoo hoo mama' out the car window.

Lizita: my brothers also used to put clown masks on, turn out all the lights, and chase me around the house.

Lizita: I still remember shuddering in the corner and saying "clowns are nice" and my brother saying "not this clown" right before he attacked.

veranique: my kindergartner son wrote a paper for his teacher that told about our kol new year's party saying that he dressed as a sauceror and his sister was a demon ninja

Josiah admits that he taught his son, albeit unintentionally, to say "I'm going to eat that friggin' dog" one day. Long story.

faerienne: my brother held me in a chair and made me watch the exorcist when I was little, then hid under my bed and shook it, then bit my hand when I had it down beside the bed

Lucky Them!

My kids in the news!

Fall Down, Go Boom

Wednesday the 18th of January was not quite the night I expected. Here are some things I learned:

- Rolling to a stop (from 45mph in this case) feels different when there are no wheels involved.

- Paramedics can have a sense of humor.

- Ambulances look clean from the stretcher because of the bright lights overhead, which you are forced to look at due to the collar.

- The ER doctor won't come into the room unless you are passed out, but they will still charge you for it.

- When it is time for the road grime to be scraped from your wounds, they send in the lowest paid person possible, except for the janitor maybe.

- Drugs can make the world a happy place (for a while)

- Everyone everywhere has some relative who was killed or maimed on a motorcycle, and they want you to know about it.

After clinic on the 18th I had to go out to the parking lot to move my bike. Unfortunately I failed to notice that I left the parking light on. When I came out to leave an hour and a half later, I saw my error. I decided to take the long way home once I got it to start. That way I could charge the battery up a bit.

As I pulled up to wait at a light, the railroad lights started to flash and the safety arms for the crossing came down. I decided to take a left and go the long way 'round my long way home. This new route would take me past A&M's campus.

I turned right (west) onto George Bush Dr., crossed over the railroad tracks, which had no train on it at this end, and accelerated to the posted speed limit of 45 mph. Traffic up to this point had been moderate, but all of the traffic that was moving in my direction seemed to be making the left to go to McDonald's. I was the only person continuing west on GB Dr.

There is a street which passes behind the McDonald's. It is a T-intersection without a light. A young lady pulled out from the cross street to the left, crossed over the eastbound traffic side, and got to the median where she paused for a moment. Unfortunately, her pause didn't allow her the ability to see through solid objects. I saw her pause, but only the front fender. The vehicles in the left turn lane were blocking her line of sight in my direction. She pulled out thinking that all was clear. All I saw was the back of her head. I thought she was pulling out to head west on GB Dr., but this is where I misread the situation. While I was trying to give her room on the road, she was trying to get to the right turn lane, four lanes over. She didn't look my way until I made contact with her car. The impact was just in front of her right front wheel.

The time from when I saw her front bumper to the time I made contact with her car was just over a second. If she had looked my way for a moment, this whole thing could have been avoided. If she had tapped the brakes a little bit, I could have made it around her. My swerve to the right wasn't aggressive since I thought (and I am no mind reader) she was heading my way. If I had swerved more aggressively, I would probably have been under her tires instead.

I did not understand the interactions at that intersection. I am not in that part of town very often. I didn't understand what was out there. Next to the McDonald's is a large student housing complex. The right turn lane (the lane to my right) is there to get students on campus. Do the math folks. mollo and I went out the next day and dozens of cars and trucks did the same thing this lady had done the night before.

The best response probably should have been maximum braking. Hindsight is 20/20 afterall. If I had used braking, I could have reduced the speed of the contact. I probably would have still hit her car, but the damage to me and the bike may have been reduced. As it is, we will never know.

I caught a glimpse of her face as I passed over the hood. I don't know if she had connected with the situation. I hit the ground and knew this was going to hurt. After the fourth roll I realized that I still had momentum and quite a lot of speed to scrub off. The chin of my helmet had been pushed to my chest. I tried to make sure my arms and hands were close to my body so they weren't being slapped into the ground repeatedly. I was going to bring my legs together a bit, but when I tried to pull them in, my left one hurt a lot. I just had to leave them out there and hope for the best.

When I stopped rolling, I wondered if I should be happy or upset that I had been conscious through the whole thing and still was. I came to rest against the curb, my left arm and leg over the curb as if I were spooning it. I tried to move but found it very painful. I took inventory of what I could tell was wrong before trying to roll onto my back again. My left knee was screaming at this point. I think I hit it against the car before going over the hood. Great way to start. My right leg hurt and I wanted to get off that side to try and relieve the pain.

As I finally rolled onto my back, I heard people's footsteps and chatter. I could swear there were a hundred people shouting that a man on a motorcycle had been hit. There were quickly three people standing in my field of view who had cell phones, each saying to the others that they had 911 on the phone. I was trying to take inventory again and get my left leg in a comfortable position (I am still trying to find one!)

One of the people put her phone down after a bit and squatted next to me. She was in tears, sobbing and apologetic. I couldn't help feel sorry for her. She had been through something very traumatic. I put my (injured) right hand on her knee and told her that everything would be ok. The doctors would fix me up and we would all be up and around in no time. It's going to be alright. (can you say ironic?)

A girl on my left side helped me take off my gloves, unzip my coat, and unstrap my helmet while I listened to the approaching sirens in the distance. For some strange reason I was suddenly worried about the paramedics cutting my gear off me. It has to be replaced anyway.

When they got there, the medics asked if anyone had seen the accident. I couldn't see anything but straight up in the air, but I knew at least 3 people were there. We were blocking traffic. There had to be more. Another medic started cutting and ripping my pants around my knees. He needs to work on his bedside manner. You don't say to the guy laying in the road, "You look pretty messed up here." Shouldn't it be, "It'll be ok. We'll have you patched up in no time."?

I started to relax at this point. The professionals were on the job. Good response time too. I got a collar put on and loaded in the ambulance. They grabbed the bag in the road but left the other bag strapped to the bike to be towed. That one had my homework. (One of my teachers said that was the first missing homework excuse she had heard and would accept!) Once we were underway, I called mollo with my cell phone and said, "Sorry I am so late getting home. Guess where I am. I'm in the back of an ambulance on my way to the hospital." We didn't talk long since the phone battery was nearly dead. I was just glad it still worked.

I won't bore you with the hospital stuff. I got there, x-rays, nothing broken, surprised nothing is broken, Doc gives me a pat on the head and vicodin, and says take care lucky. Bye-bye.

A cop came to see me at the hospital. He told me the bike slid 85 feet. I didn't make it that far. He didn't mention how far I went, but it looked like the bike was 10-12 meters or so past me.

Gear works. Nothing broken, 'cept my pride. Sore everywhere.

Bike's a total loss. The shop quit writing the estimate when it exceeded the original MSRP. (Why do parts cost more than the whole?)

Video of the crash area. Sorry it's sideways. Not sure how to change that. (7 Mb)

PowerPoint of the crash scene and resulting damage. Photos are not the best as we used a borrowed digital camera and aren't fully up to speed on the finer points of operation. (21 Mb)

UPDATE 27 Jan 06: I picked up the police report yesterday. Yes, she got a ticket, and she says that one of the drivers from the left turn lane waved her across. I guess that always makes it ok to proceed with your back turned to the other 3 oncoming traffic lanes.