kerewin's whine cellar

Vaya

I had the strangest dream the other night. I created a product and had all sorts of marketing ideas for it. It was supposed to be a time saver. For me, it is very hard to go to bed, and then very difficult to get out of bed in the morning. So, when you are up at night, you can redo all your makeup and then spray this product on your face and it keeps everything fresh so that when you wake up you're all ready for the busy day. I have no idea what to do about the bedhead, though. The name of this wonder product?

Night Armor.

I was just contemplating adding a K for Knight Armor, but I woke up too soon to make a full decision.

In other news, we are going on vacation! Since it has been a full year since my last real vacation, I am kind of excited. We're headed down to sunny Arizona, so I will be back around the 9th or 10th.

Soap Opera #9

So I have the start of this fabulous soap opera in my head. Let me set the scene for you:

Girl A checks email and sees something new from a close family friend. Reads through email and realizes that the content of said email is meant for someone of a more romantic bent. Too bad family friend is supposedly happily married. After a call to the friend, Girl A finds out that Romantic Friend lives 3,000 miles away and only talks via the internet. Girl A left with dilemma since she is such good friends with both halves of the married couple. What should our heroine do?

Sounds like a good start on a cheesy soap opera, doesn't it? I certainly wish it was.

Passing The Plate

Back when I was in the 6th grade and my sister was in the 7th a package was delivered to the house. The package was sent by certified mail, but at the time we didn't know that. My Dad was the one who signed for it, although I don't quite know why he signed for it, since it wasn't addressed to us. It was some stranger that we didn't know and must have lived in the same house before us.

H-star and I couldn't keep our hands off the package. It was square and cardboard, kind of like the packaging used to mail CDs, although this was before that time (but only by a few years). We were just dying to know what was in inside, kind of like a Christmas present. Since it seemed so similar we did to that package what we would have done to a nice cute package sitting under the Christmas tree. We pulled a corner. Just a teensy bit, but it revealed no evidence as to the contents of the package. We then did a classic kid move. We decided to open it up all the way, under the impression that we would be able to make it look untouched after.

Inside was a small, silver plate with a card. It was about as big as an accent plate, but perfectly mirrored. No engraving or anything. I can't even remember what event it was a gift for, perhaps a wedding. Now that we had the beautiful and perfect thing opened what did we do? Well, first we realized that we wouldn't ever be able to make the box right again. Then we...darn, I don't even remember. Probably shit our pants from how stupid we were. Then we did another classic kid move. We hid the plate and threw the box out.

A couple of days later Dad asked if we had seen the box since he wanted to take it to the post office (hm, that sort of implies that he never signed for it, doesn't it? Maybe it just came with delivery confirmation? I don't think they had that back in 1983. Odd.) since it didn't belong to us. We just looked back at him with innocent eyes. "What package?" For some reason, he believed us. Every few weeks or so we would ask each other, "What are we supposed to do with that plate?"

Even then I knew that whoever sent it would be expecting a thank you card, or some acknowledgement. Or that they would come knocking on our door and ask what happened to the silver plate they bought. There was definitely a lot of guilt built up in that plate. However, a few months later that didn't stop us from giving the plate to our parents for their anniversary. I don't know how they thought a 12 and a 13 year-old had the smack to buy a silver plate, but I like that parents would rather believe the good in you, than the bad.

This all happened over 20 years ago and I haven't told that story to a living soul, nor ever brought it up again with H-star. I wonder if the parents even have the damn thing still. They are rather packrats, so it seems likely. How does one make up for such a thing?

Once Again Into The Fray, My Friends

Say what you will, but I am away for the weekend yet again. Work this time. Which includes far too little sleep before the flight tomorrow, far too many activities tomorrow before bed tomorrow night, and lastly too many winery activities. Should feel well like dreck by Sunday, but in a good way.

I think we left off at air bands, what's to say we can't maybe tell one embarassing story from our childhood? I have a doosy that I will tell you when I get back. Shout out to Miel, sorry I haven't e'd you back, I suck ass.

Friendship, or Something Like It

So I just worked 11 hours and still have a lot of paperwork to finish up at home. It was a great day, though. I had awesome wine to show and really receptive people. I have some acquaintance-type friends who opened a restaurant/bar about a year ago and today I finally got the gumption to go visit them with wine in my bag, as a business call.

In part, I was a bit nervous because the last time I was in a similar situation (with people who are more than acquaintances) they responded like this:

Me: Hey you guys! Wow, this space looks great, and you're so busy! Congratulations.

Them: We heard you have a new job selling wine for ABC company, how is that going?

Me: I love it, hey does anyone from my company call on you?

Them: No, thank god, let's hope they never do.

This sort of explains why I waited 8 months to visit these other guys. However, when I dropped in tonight, they were very happy to see me. It went something lile this:

Them: Hey! We haven't seen you in so long, how is the new job going?

Me: I love it, I feel like I am really good at it, and it is fun.

Them: That's so cool! Why haven't you come to visit us? We buy beer from your company but not wine. Come see us next Tuesday!

Just who are the real friends here?

Support

A friend of mine wanted to do more than write a check to the Red Cross and she thought this up:

http://www.katrinagaragesale.com/

Now she's faced with the dilemma of how to move this thing from local to national. Any ideas?

I'm Outta Here!

Gone for the weekend.

Talk amongst yourselves.

Protest

I lived in Argentina shortly after the fall of their banks. As you can imagine there were protests everywhere. The little town that I lived in, Posadas, had a unique idea. They put three large balls on stands in the plaza and anyone who wanted to could put a letter on them. After they were full, they tossed them into the garden area of the government building (most of the buildings there are square with open courts, or gardens in the center) for the people in charge to read.

Some of the things written:

"Listen to the voice of the town, it is our only hope." Escuche la voz del pueblo es nuestra única esperanza

"THIEVES!" CHORROS!

"Get rid of everybody!" Que se vayan todos.

Interesting thoughts, what are some of the things you might write on a ball that was to be tossed into the garden of our goverment?

He Was Too Busy Drinking Port To Choke On Peanuts

"The responsibility of government for the public safety is absolute and requires no mandate. It is in fact the prime object for which governments come into existence." – Winston Churchill

Taken from Bitch PhD who got it from Keith Olbermann on MSNBC

UPDATE:

How our President learned his compassion. Courtesy of the Hub.

"On the tape of the interview, Mrs. Bush chuckles audibly as she observes just how great things are going for families that are separated from loved ones, people who have been forced to abandon their homes and the only community where they have ever lived, and parents who are explaining to children that their pets, their toys and in some cases their friends may be lost forever. Perhaps the former first lady was amusing herself with the notion that evacuees without bread could eat cake."

Just A Little Bit Of Humor

This weekend has been a lot about healing. Last weekend, when my parents were in town, in a most unfortunate example of timing, I realized that I was unhappy. I didn't like myself, I didn't like my husband, and I certainly didn't like how we were living totally separate lives, while under the same roof.

He has a lot of interests and desires and he is such a major geek that when he likes something he not only collects that thing, but also spends time endlessly researching said item, and also joining some group of people who also collect it. Since he is interested in monorails, biodiesel, amiga computers, politics,Volkswagens, and pinball machines to name a few you can see that he has little free time. This was fine back when I worked in a restaurant and wasn't home in the evenings or on weekends. Now that I have my evenings (mostly) free and weekends off, the time apart seems a little more glaring. Lately, with my collusion, we have spent a decent amount of money on the Hub's projects. Still, I was left feeling like my desires were much less important, and I readily admit to that being my fault for not voicing them. Also, I was working a lot, and when not working, doing some volunteer stuff on the side that was kicking my ass. So I am certainly not blameless.

So I kind of bubbled over in misery all this stuff I kept in. I wanted to get rid of all this shit we have collected. We are both genetically geared towards packratism and it is making me sick. Also a new stove is in order since the ancient one here is on the fritz. While we are at it, how about some slate kitchen floors, or donating all the old clothes we have and don't wear anymore, and just WHAT about that huge pile of clean clothes that lives on top of the washing machine? (Hello, could that have anything to do with the fact that our dressers are full of clothes we never wear anymore?) What about a consistent cleaning schedule, or a night a week that we spend with each other, or new goddamn windows?

So we agreed to do a lot of "Spring Cleaning" this weekend. Let me tell you, we have a lot of crap to donate. About 8 boxes worth. We weren't slaves to our mission, however, so we have more to do as the days go by this week. Still, it is starting to feel much more open here and it feels really good. So we rewarded ourselves with a movie. The Forty Year Old Virgin. I was worried that all the hype would make this not very enjoyable. Then there was this set of girls sitting right behind us that were laughing even before the dialogue was finished on screen. Plus the first 10 minutes just didn't seem that funny to me. And yet...it was one of the sweetest, most hilarious, sick, twisted bit of cinema I have seen it a long time. It definitely earned its R rating. When I left the theater my throat was sore and my stomach hurt from laughing. The final scene is the most gut-busting thing I have seen in a good long time.

Steve Carrell has no shame. Or pride. I really, really wish he hadn't participated in the U.S. version of The Office.

In other good news, I, asshole is back online. Go. Go now.

Spin Doctors

No matter what all the news reports said yesterday, a couple of platitudes from Bush aren't enough in New Orleans. When even the reporters on Fox's Hannity and Colmes are upset and yelling at the hosts of the show then you know we are in dire straits.

Watch the QT movie here

link from Crooks and Liars via Peace Dividend

Yes, it is Fox, yes it is Geraldo, but usually they are very busy pushing the current admin agenda and since they aren't this time, you have to ask yourself, "What the fuck is going on along the Gulf Coast?"

UPDATE: The Navy has hired Houston-based Halliburton Co. to restore electric power, repair roofs and remove debris at three naval facilities in Mississippi damaged by Hurricane Katrina.

link via Feministe

How convenient, Bush's cronies are making money off of the disaster. Is this one of the signs of the coming apocalypse?

I'll Tell You What's Not Acceptable

Earlier, as he left Washington, the president, who has been assailed for not acting quickly enough to get help to storm victims, called the federal government's response to the crisis "not acceptable." Sorry, this requires registration at NYT.

I hope he was also talking about himself when he was referring to the crisis.

My thoughts go out to everyone down along the Gulf Coast. Please help donate to the Red Cross if you can.

Update: one of the reasons I am donating to the Red Cross is that through my company they double any donation, a large national vendor then doubles that amount, making every dollar worth four. Here is a list of many other options for help.

Dinner and a Movie

We went out tonight, as a couple. Had a nice dinner, saw a great movie. However, because I didn't get to bed until late last night, I slept poorly the whole time, and then had a long stressful work day, I was tired. Halfway into the movie, which was good but very documentaryish, I thought, "It would be so lovely if I just closed my eyes and slept for a bit."

Then I snapped out of it and asked myself, "Jesus, when did I get so goddamn old?"