Dec. 9th, 2001

figmo: Baby Grace and Lynn (Default)
Twas the first night of Chanukah
And all through the...never mind.

When I was in Hebrew school as a kid there was a greeting card you could send that had a poem on it that parodied "Twas the night before Christmas" that started out that way. The one line I remember was Santa Claus falling on his "tuchas."

Warren decided to go to church tonight. He has this particular priest he likes to talk to and wanted to talk to him. He's been out for hours and I'm going nuts.

Earlier this evening I rushed home, ordered pizza online to get waiter.com points, ran out to pick it up, then brought it home for us to eat. As we ate I was telling Warren what I was planning on bringing to my day job's gift exchange. Since it's all tech writers, I'm putting together a "badly translated food basket." I've got Russian tea in a package mostly written in Cyrillic -- VERY little of it translated at all. I picked up some pasta where the cooking directions sound more like an essay in pasta quality. I have some Filipino "mutant coconut" to add, and I figure if I don't find anything else, those wonderful Japanese stand-bys "Pocari Sweat" and "Calpis" will do nicely.

When I mentioned "Calpis," Warren got really sick, ran to the bathroom and puked, then cursed me out a blue streak. I tried to explain to him Calpis is a Japanese yogurt-flavored soft drink, but that didn't help.

Truth be told, he's edgy about most likely losing his sole source of income when KARA, the station he primarily works for, is sold in February. He needs more hours, and the extra hours keep going to other people.

Last summer one of the news anchors attacked him with a swivel chair, running it into his leg and causing a contusion, yet Warren was held to blame for holding the guy's hands down so the guy couldn't do anything more to him. It'd be one thing if the news guy hadn't had a track record, but he'd punched out another news anchor about a year earlier. Any other station in the universe would've tossed that guy out immediately; this one, instead, has restricted Warren to working weekends only. The latest in this idiocy appears to be the stupid Christmas party. Warren's making noises about "not wanting to go." I think his boss told him he couldn't go because that news jerk guy is going (I noticed the jerk got someone to cover his shift that evening).

To help Warren I left a bunch of broadcasting job openings sitting on the screen of the computer with the big monitor in my computer room. I figure it'll cheer him up to know there are jobs out there -- some of which are better than what he's got.

I lit my menorah tonight. It actually went okay. I am really horrid at lighting matches; you can tell I never smoked. My father always used to pick on me for being lousy at lighting matches when, IMHO, he should've been happy about it because it meant I wasn't doing cigarettes or pot or other illegal stuff. Dad never did make sense. Every year when I light his yahrzeit candle I can hear him criticizing my match-lighting. (Every year except THIS year -- because I used wooden matches for a change!)

Work (the radio station) went pretty well today. I had new jingles and theme music to work with, and IMHO it sounded a lot better. I quickly got into the rhythm of using the new themes. There were five to pick from instead of two, and I got to learn which ones sounded best for which application. I also signed up for a couple of extra shifts in the next month. They just happen to intersect with Warren's shifts (awww...). I miss working with him. We work well together.

Warren had asked me to pick up a typing program for him so he could learn to touch type quickly. Much of the temp work out there requires passing a typing test. I dashed out to Fry's, bought the latest version of "Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing," and while I was at it picked up MacOSX 10.1 on sale for $109. I could pay a few bucks less via the net, but I wouldn't have the advantage of being able to return it easily if the CD-ROM were defective.

Warren left for church a little after 7pm. He's still gone. I wish he'd get home already -- or at least turn on the expletive-deleted cell phone so I could call him! :-(

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