Watch as Clifton finds the true meaning of Thanksgiving. (This is a rare instance in which I came back and changed the title at the end. This post gave me an interesting bit to think about.)

I've been home for a while now, having hung around my parents' house for a while after Thanksgiving dinner. I watched the first 40 minutes of the 10:00 Simpsons hour on WB6 with my brother, then figured I'd drive on home before I was tempted to just zonk on the couch there and try (and, likely, fail) to get up at 5:30 to stop by my apartment and get changed for the day's work.

Anyway, so I've been sitting around debating whether to actually post on here tonight. I've been trying not to make this the Bitch & Moan Corner, because, hey, who likes to read about other people's self-pity festivals? But there it is. You can pretty much just skip the remainder of this post if you want. I just feel like putting it into print, because it's giving me a headache.

Thanksgiving blew.

*shrug* The day has just sucked overall. No major catastrophes or anything, but it hasn't left me feeling fulfilled like Thanksgiving's supposed to. I wanted to sleep in, but my bladder had other ideas at, oh, 9:45 or so this morning, when I'd fully intended to sleep until 1 or 2 in the afternoon. So I called and/or emailed a bunch of my friends to wish them a happy holiday (if I didn't catch you, don't feel snubbed or anything... sorry) and settled in to watch TV until dinner.

I should note that the suckness started last night, when I was informed that I was going to be housesitting and chauferring my brother around all weekend (Friday morning until Tuesday night) as my parents will be up in Wheeling getting started on the kennel up there. Of course, I asked my sister to help out, particularly on Friday and Monday, when I work from 6-11 and 3-midnight, and she laughed and said, "You expect ME to give up MY days off to watch Zachary??" ... which doesn't surprise me, and wouldn't surprise you either if you know my sister. Even though, I get to give up MY days off to do it, but... well, anyway...

Where was I? Oh, so anyway, I find out last night that I get to forfeit my weekend. Again. Oh well... not like I had plans or anything. I WILL be turning the thermostat down, though. I swear, they keep it at like 82º in there year-round. And I'll be doing my laundry on their nickel, too. I didn't want to grouse about it too much in front of my brother, because I don't have any problem with him personally, and I don't want him to get that impression. I have a great time hanging out with him. I just wish I'd known about this in advance.

But on the other hand... like I said, what plans did I have to cancel anyway? I was just going to end up renting a movie or something, probably.

And then dinner was really not that great. It's nice to know my parents will never read this... as far as they believe, all I do on the Internet is sit at Yahoo!Chat like I used to do when I was, oh, 16 or so. They don't even know about my website, let alone my blog. So, anyway, I can feel secure in divulging that the dinner wasn't very good. I feel bad, because I know the time and preparation that went into it, but... it just seemed like everything was kind of blah. I dunno, maybe it was just my mood. I do know that my favorite Thanksgiving dish -- my grandpa's scalloped oysters -- was a wreck. He brought it over basically straight from the oven without bothering to check it, and it wasn't done. It's supposed to be kind of quiche-like in texture, and it was basically oysters floating in hot milk with clumps of flour bobbing around. I ate some to be kind, but that was sort of disappointing, because I always enjoy that dish.

Anyway, then I went to the craphole Walmart with Kristy, because she needed juice and water to help with her flu but Walmart was the only store open by 7:30 pm, and who wants to go to the craphole Walmart (the one in Tower Plaza) by themselves after dark? So I picked up a couple of things as long as I was there... a chunk of Port Salut cheese, some canisters of Crystal Light, a 12-pack of caffeine free Diet Pepsi, a couple of other things. Then my debit card refused to work at the register. It's worn out, yeah, but it still works most everywhere. Well, the Checkout Lady From Hell gives it a few lame swipes herself, then tries the plastic bag trick, and then just hands it to me and says, "It's all scratched up. It won't work." I asked, "Well, run it as credit, then." She tried a couple of times, said, "Still won't work." I said, "Can't you type in the numbers?", like, I'll note, EVERY GROCERY STORE I'VE EVER BEEN TO CAN DO WITH A CREDIT CARD. She says, "No. Can't," then just sits there and stares at me. Well, Kristy offers to put it all on her card, which at least freed me from that temporary embarassment, since I hardly ever carry cash or other cards. I marched over to the ATM while Kristy was checking out, had no problem withdrawing a $20 to pay Kristy back with. I made sure the cashier noted the speed and ease with which I used the ATM, although in my foolhardy attempt to make a show of superiority, I paid a total of $3.50 in ATM fees. So then I felt pretty stupid about that, too, since I cold have just driven down the street and used the B of A ATM and paid no fees. So the fact that I made an ass of myself in front of a friend didn't help much with the mood, either.

Anyway... sorry... I don't like being embarrassed in public like that. That's probably my biggest fear.

So I dropped Kristy off, went back to my parents' house for a little while (watched TV, as mentioned above), then drifted on home.

Now, as the day had been going, should it have come as a surprise to anyone that there was a silver Pontiac Aztek parked in my spot? And that there was NO parking to be found save for a group of spots about as geographically far away from my apartment as possible?

Of course, what do I do? Complain? Have it towed? Sure, and be known throughout my complex as The Asshole That Had A Car Towed On Thanksgiving, let alone just The Asshole That Had a Car Towed, period. So I pulled out a copy of my Parking Spot Notice form letter that I keep in my console. It's the one the begins, "Hi. I hate to point out the obvious, but this is a reserved space -- mine, in fact." It goes on to explain that obviously, they had trouble finding parking near whomever they were visiting for the evening, so now *I* can't park near where I'm visiting for the evening (i.e., my apartment), and that they shouldn't feel particularly bad, because obviously since I'd taken the time to print this form letter out, it's happened numerous times before; as it says, "You're not the first, and I'm sure you won't be the last, either." Anyhow, on the bottom, I scrawled, "Happy Thanksgiving. Hope your holiday was OK. Mine sucked, if you were wondering." I stuck it under a windshield wiper and drove on around to an open spot.

*sigh* I honestly hope you're not reading this far. I hope you'd've given up by now, because even though I don't necessarily want everyone reading about my trivial problems, if I don't post this out in the open, I won't feel like it's beeen lifted off of my chest. Tacky as it sounds, my headache has subsided. I may not keep this page updated as much as I like, but it sure is damn therapeutic when I need to blab about crap that's bugging me. And if I get it down in print, it doesn't keep bouncing around in my head.

I know that in the long run, dealing with watery scalloped oysters, unhappy Walmart clearks, and people who disregard signs that say "Reserved" are just that -- trivial crap. And, you know, though I mentioned before that I was feeling strangely unfulfilled tonight, now I can see the forest instead of the trees. If the fact that I have to spend Saturday watching TV at my parents' place instead of watching TV at my place is the worst thing I have to deal with all week, well, I guess I've got plenty to be thankful for tonight after all.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

*groan*

Yeah, I know... I AWOL'ed again. This week has been Schooling Week at Apache prior to Apache's opening day the day after Thanksgiving. What with coordinating trying to get 50 dogs qualified out there, I've missed a lot of rest time this week. However, this mild sunburn could wind up a decent tan. (Yah. Right.)

Anyway, Coronado garnered an Excellent with 4 captions (missing out on the Music caption, which I can understand... they did what they could with a small band and mismatched show). I was bursting with pride at the progress of the low brass section. Don't tell 'em, but I had the sniffles while they were playing the big finish to the closer. I reminded them of the time we'd spent in that stinky dorm room at ERAU doing sectionals, and how it'd paid off in the end. I hope they'll have me back next season; I had a lot of fun working with the group.

I'm off to bed. I know, I know... 11:45?? Yeah, I'm clocking out early. For reals. Did I mention that now Blogger allows you to set the timestamp to whatever you want? Huzzah! Now when I finish a post at 12:03 AM, I can stamp it to say "11:46 PM" on the previous night, so it'll go under the date header I'd intended it to. (Go ahead and check the timestamps. If you see anything:46, you'll know I altered it.)

Coronado is performing on Saturday at Mesa High School (NOT Mesa Community College) at 10:00 AM. Hope to see some of you there...

The state of State.

Hey, group. Short entry here; I missed my usual Saturday ramblings due to a Surprise trip. (That's correct both literally and geographically.) For some reason, I was suckered into driving to the Wal-Mart at Bell and Grand... but anyway...

I know that the State Marching Festival is on this coming Saturday the 15th, but I'm unsure as to the venue and time that Coronado will be performing at. Hopefully, Ms. Rich will call me back tomorrow (that's "today" if this is Wednesday already) and let me know, at which point I'll post it to all the pertinent websites.

Quick side note: I tasted no difference between Honey Roasted Reese's and "regular" Reese's peanut butter cups. What would be cool, IMHO, is if they made a chunky variety. Just my 2¢ worth.

Matrix III was a bit of a letdown. Don't get me wrong -- I'm not as put off by it as Rick was -- but still, the plot fell apart somewhat towards the end. I appreciated how they wove Gloria Foster's untimely passing (the original Oracle) into the story line, though. I felt they tied up the loose ends fairly well as far as the story went, but it just seemed a little tacky at places. Case in point, without spoiling anything: When the kid is running with the ammo and tips the cart over, and the general crawls up his ass about it... then the kid says, "I won't let you down, sir!", so unfortunately, you can pretty much tell that half an hour later or so, the kid will have a chance to prove himself and, lo and behold, he comes through with flying colors. I don't know... maybe I'm too nitpicky.

All right. Hopefully I'll be on here by noon tomorrow with the info on State. Stay fresh, y'alls.

Tank, I need a primer on how to deep-fry.

Matrix III is all set. Friday night (unless you're reading this within an hour of me posting it, that's "tonight"), at the Harkins in Scottsdale Fashion Square, for the 10:00 pm showing. The plan is to rendezvous by the elevators in front of the theatre at 9:30, but I'll probably be there somewhat earlier, since I'll be home from the track around 7:15 and all I'll be doing is sitting around in high anticipation. Anyway, if anyone needs a ride, email me (tfg46@cox.net) sometime tomorrow.

It's been an interesting week. Dad's up in Wichita getting a new load of dogs situated, and our trainer from up there, Lazaro, drove down a load of dogs from there to take to Apache when it opens later this month. On the trip down, he got horrible gas mileage, so Dad told me to take it to Tommy Bishop's to have it tuned up. On the way out of town Tuesday night, though, Lazaro called and said he couldn't get it over 45. He came back and stayed the night, and in the morning we took it back to Tom's. Turns out the catalytic converter was totally shot, and the muffler wasn't far behind. So Lazaro had to hang around until 2:00 in the afternoon while we had the whole exhaust system replaced ($600), then had to drive all night to get back into Wichita by 6:00 this morning. Bleh. I felt badly for him, but if he'd mentioned to us that the truck sounded like a top-fuel dragster and wasn't running right three weeks ago, we could have had it fixed up there before he made the trip. He'd heard it, he said, but he didn't think there was anything wrong. *cough* Oh well... we got through it.

The dogs are running a little better this week. It's a cyclical thing... they're not going to be in peak form all the time. The best trainers, though, know how to extend the upswings while minimizing the downswings, espeically by paying attention to dogs who are starting to slip off form. Catch them before they lose too much confidence, and you can have them right back on the active list in no time, with just a week or so off spent doing light workouts.

Tonight, I also reaffirmed the fact that I can't use a deep-fryer. If I were stranded on a desert island with a deep-fryer and a bag of frozen french fries, I'd starve. (Well, okay... I'd probably gnaw on the frozen french fries, and, well, I guess they wouldn't stay frozen for long, but you get my point.) I don't know what the big secret is to having my potatoes come out all perfectly crisp on the outside and not soggy on the inside, like the hashbrown sticks at Del Taco. Oooohhhhhhh.... those little buggers are marvels of potato perfection. I mean, Sonic's tater tots are good, but Del Taco has got chopped and formed potatoes down to a T. The only tots I've ever had that were better, I got at a place called Taco John's. (Seriously.) There was one down on University and Rural for a while but they closed up shop a long time ago; they're actually really big in Kansas, which is where I first tried their Potato Olés. Little flattened tater tots, seasoned to perfection, soooooo delicious with a dollop of sour cream. McDonald's hashbrown patties can be good sometimes, but then again, everything else on the breakfast menu at McDonald's sucks (much like Del Taco) so it's hard to justify making a special stop there.

Anyway, back to the crisis at hand... I just don't know what it is. I used fresh oil, didn't overfill my cooker, only filled the basket half full, cooked them at the right temperature for the right amount of time, and they still weren't GBD (that's Golden Brown & Delicious... cookspeak). So I cooked them until they looked right, and they were somewhat crunchy on the outside, but the insides tasted like Idahoan insta-potato granules mixed with lukewarm tap water. And then they just soaked up the ketchup like a sponge, so instead of having that tang when you first bite into them mellowed out by the delicious interior of the tot, it's just sort of this bland, ketchup-and-mashed-potato taste all the way through. *sigh* Like my title says... this is where being jacked into the Matrix would be handy.

Anyway, I'm gonna head back to watch more TV. Housesitting for my parents last weekend left me behind on my programs. I made it through last Thursday and Friday earlier, and now I'm working on Saturday fare: America's Most Wanted and L.A. Dragnet. Among things to look for on here soon is my opinions about the shows I'm watching, including the new ones I've checked out. I heard they already cancelled Skin on Fox. Aww... well, the guy from Timecop will have to find a new gig already. I hope the cast enjoyed those prime seats in Yankee Stadium that Fox kept showing them in, because that was the pinnacle of their popularity: before the show premiered.

Some Things Are Changing; Some Things Never Change

Okay, so the movie plans have taken on an alteration. At least three people are working all day Saturday, so we've moved it to Friday night. We're figuring on a 9:00ish show, and I imagine we'll have our choice of theatres with numerous screens of Matrix III. I was kind of hoping to scope out that new complex up north, the Harkins Scottsdale 101. I couldn't figure out if that's just a description of where it's at, or if they actually have 101 screens... just kidding. Actually, Revolutions is showing at the Cine Capri, and I'd really like to check that one out sometime, but I figure two nights after the biggest event of the year opens, it'll still be fairly crowded. I'll look into it, though. harkinstheatres.moviefone.com doesn't have anything specific beyond two days ahead. All they show for each theater on Friday and Saturday is 5 showtimes for Matrix III, and I know there's going to be more than that, especially at the big'uns like AZ Mills. Anyway, I'll let you guys know as soon as I can get the exact showtimes, probably Wednesday or so.

As far as the other half of my topic... I checked in on my profile on a personals website which shall remain nameless. Six months, now, and no hits. Also no responses to any messages I've sent. When you add in the six months I had one up last year (that one I paid for... I know, not too smart), that's been about a year's worth of no one being interested in my profile. *chuckle* I sure would like to find out the secret of these people who give glowing endorsements of these personals websites. You've heard the commercials... "Hi, I'm Sam. I met my fiancée Nancy at _____.com. We've hit it off ever since our first date." *shrug* Maybe it's just me. Or maybe they're paid spokespersons and these sites actually don't work after all. But am I going to delete it and give up? No, I just tweaked a couple of things (took out the reference to the heat outdoors, for example) and let it be. You never know. Maybe tomorrow, someone will actually look at it.