Monday, January 31, 2005

I was planning to get caught up on my Netflix movies this weekend but we’re still waiting for the replacement lamp for the big screen TV. The back-up TV I’m using only has a cable jack, so I’m able to watch VHS movies, but not DVDs.

I’ve had Collateral and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind for weeks and it would figure that the first weekend I had the time available to watch both was hosed by a busted TV. Ah, well. Other things got done instead.

So now I have to wait until this weekend to try again (the lamp should be delivered today). Weeknights are tied up with TV shows, so the weekend is the only time I want to devote to movies. Speaking of TV shows - only two more episodes of TAR6. I’m sort of sad, but we have Season 7 to look forward to in March. And I’m sort of looking forward to the start of the next season of Survivor - three gone in the first episode? Cool!

Washington has a new newspaper set to start arriving at homes tomorrow morning. Called the Washington Examiner - it’s a free tabloid-style paper that it’s publishers hope will give the WaPo a run for it’s money. I admit that the TV ads they have run lately have intrigued me. I’ll be interested to see if our house is one of the few selected to receive it.

Hey, you IE users! I know the sidebar has dropped below the posts. I don’t know why since I haven’t changed anything. Sorry for the inconvenience of it.

I have mentioned my concerns about Joel Osteen in the past. Via The Thinklings, I learned that the Internet Monk has challenged Christian bloggers to challenge Osteen because he does not preach the Gospel. So consider this doing my part.

Go take a look at the links to two interviews that Osteen did recently and you’ll see what Spencer is talking about. I’ve seen enough of his TV sermons to know that there’s something crucial missing in the messages he preaches. And the “alter call” he gives at the end of his shows each week are given out of context of the total picture of what the gospel is - a need for redemption that was provided through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. That Osteen rarely mentions Jesus, much less his death, should be a concern.

UPDATE: I added a link to one of my old posts where I mentioned Osteen and my concerns about his ministry.

Sunday, January 30, 2005

Since ECD shoveled the driveway last weekend, it was my turn this morning. She got the better deal - her snow was that light, fluffy stuff because it was so bitterly cold. I got the wet, heavy stuff with a nice layer of slushy ice underneath the white stuff. We have a long driveway. Long. Seemingly endless long.

And I just glanced out the window and it’s snowing again.

*sigh*

I have to go to the store and to pick up Annie, so I’m thinking of doing that now, then coming back to take a nice long nap in my big comfy chair.

I fought the Battle of Mr. Kitty last night and lost ... badly. It’s 5:30am on a Sunday morning and the only reason I’m up this early is because I couldn’t take it anymore. I almost got up at 4:00am, but he settled at that point. I screwed up by sitting up when the lamp came on at 5:20 (it’s on a timer because I need the artificial sunlight to wake me up on workdays) - the cat made eye contact with me from where he was curled up at the foot of the bed and the battle began anew.

All night long Mr. Kitty paced, purred, kneaded, and pestered me. He paced around the bed, mostly around my head. A few times he settled on my pillow, against the wall, and kneaded my head while purring loudly. He’s a champion purrer - you can hear him from across the room sometimes. He likes to be in your face, so there were many times that I had to pull the covers over my head to keep his nose away from my mouth and I know there was one time that I fell back to sleep with my hand over my face. Another time I was on my stomach and he was on my back, kneading my shoulders - that was the best part of the night - I got a mini-back rub(!) and he was out of my face.

Add to it my slight allergy to cats and the hot, dry air in the house and my sinuses filled up quite nicely to the point that breathing from the mouth was required. This attracted the cat since he’s fascinated by mouths, hence the hand over the face while sleeping.

He’s pestering me even now - jumping up and hanging on my arm. Mr. Needy is his new nickname. Sheesh.

Man, am I tired.

He is a beautiful cat, though. He’s snow white with pink ears and nose and huge yellow eyes.

Saturday, January 29, 2005

Anyone who says that Christians are humorless hasn’t seen this.

Courtesy: The Thinklings

Woke up this morning to learn that ECD was violently ill last night, poor thing. She was facing a brithday party for her newly 9 year old daughter with two of the girls spending the night. I recommended she reschedule, but by early afternoon she was much better and the party is underway as I type this. I hear what sounds like square dance music and the pounding of feet on the ceiling above me. I’m hoping that when the other girls have been picked up (parents are slightly delayed because of the snow that’s falling), the remaining will adjourn to Nee’s bedroom to continue their festivities.

The day was busy with tea business stuff and general clean up. ECD and I had ordered these ladder style shelving units that lean against the wall. We put together one of them and it looks really nice. Tomorrow we’ll put together the other one. We also ordered storage shelving units, but we can’t put them together until we’re ready to huck out the stuff she has in the utility room. I think that’s a project for next weekend.

Church was great tonight. I really love my new church. I got a phone call from the creative arts leader, but I haven’t had a chance to call him back. I think he thinks I’m younger than I am because he asked if I’d be interested in singing with the band for the youth services.

It started to snow as we were leaving for church and by the time I left we had about half an inch on the ground. This meant that panic had set in for the people out driving. I had a near miss with an idiot who decided to slam on his brakes at an intersection where our light was still green and attempt an illegal U-turn. So he hit the brakes and I had to hit mine to avoid plowing into him, but I went into a skid. My skid continued even after I let up on the brakes - I was reluctant to try to veer out of his path for fear of a spin out so I just rode with it, convinced I was going to hit him but I stopped just in time. And I laid on the horn. The beauty was that his interior dome light was on and he was talking on a cell phone - clearly lost and not used to driving in snow.

LATER: Oh yeah, Annie is at my parents’ since she doesn’t do well with kids or strangers. And Mr. Kitty (as I call him) is hanging down in the basement with me, which I love. This is the coolest cat (with the exception of Spanky, my parents’ cat) - he’s very affectionate and loves to cuddle. He also loves to lounge on the kitchen table and counters, which is the uncoolest thing about him. The funniest thing he’s done was the other night during dinner. I had just finished saying the blessing for the food when I felt something attach itself to my back - it was Mr. Kitty - with his front paws on my shoulders and his back paws clutched around my waist. His head was next to mine and he was peering down at my plate of food. He had launched himself from the floor - it was startling yet funny. Apparently, he’s never done that before.

Friday, January 28, 2005

1. There are things I encounter in this job that really tork me as a taxpayer. But there’s nothing I can do about them, sadly.

2. The Bush Administration is moving forward with a plan to reform the 50-year old civil service pay program for federal employees. As one who thinks that system is long outdated, a waste of money, and completely unfair to the employees, I’m all for the proposed changes (eliminating the GS pay schedule and moving to a pay for performance method). If the government wants to be able to compete as an employer then these changes are necessary. Next up should be a better streamlining of the hiring process.

3. Did I mention the $1B surplus here in Virginia? I know I was thinking about posting about it, but I can’t remember if I actually did. I’m too lazy to look it up. Anyway, yes, the Great Commonwealth has a nice, fat $1B budget surplus. This was discovered just before the General Assembly decided to vote for a tax increase. I have a feeling that this will be a big issue in the gubernatorial election this year. What’s completely maddening about it is that there aren’t enough votes in the General Assembly to override the sure veto that Gov. Warner would impose on a bill to refund the money back to the taxpayers. And so our fine state legislature is hunting for ways to spend, spend, spend that money that isn’t really theirs. Since death is not an option, I vote for roads in NoVa (more specifically that I-66 be widened all the way out to Haymarket), but I realize that the rest of Virginia will gnash teeth and wail about NoVa getting most of the money. Nevermind that we put in most of the money.

4. Even better, here in NoVa’s own Fairfax County (in which my parents reside) there is a surplus in the county government coffers as the result of a boom in real estate taxes, which means that the fine folks in the Taj Mahal (that is what we call the Fairfax County Government Center, which is a monstrosity lovely example in marble and an extravagance at taxpayer expense) are thinking about subsidizing rental housing for county employees who do not currently reside in the county in order to get them to live in the county. Now, while I agree that there’s a dirth of truly affordable rental housing (and I mean affordable, not just low income - this is why I live in Prince William and Loudoun before that) in Fairfax County, I’m not so sure that I like this idea. It seems to me that a better way to take care of their employees is to use that money to increase their salaries so that they can afford the rental costs. Right?

POST UPDATED 1/29/05 - ECD retook the test yesterday because she didn’t think she had been completely honest the first time she took it. The new information is more in line with her personality from my understanding of her and her own self-perception. That said, her dominant “F” is still the overriding difference between us. And she still shows some “P” qualities.

ECD and I have had some communication and perception problems in the past couple of weeks and I mentioned to her that I thought she was a “feeler” where I’m a “thinker” and suggested that she take the Myers-Briggs personality test. She took this one, which turns out to be pretty good for a basic test. She was surprised it was so accurate in pigeonholing her personality. I was gratified to see that my snap assessment was more or less correct.

So we laughed over the write ups of our personalities last night and discussed how that makes our relationship a bit of a challenge. I’m an ISTJ ...

ISTJs are often called inspectors. They have a keen sense of right and wrong, especially in their area of interest and/or responsibility. They are noted for devotion to duty. Punctuality is a watchword of the ISTJ. The secretary, clerk, or business(wo)man by whom others set their clocks is likely to be an ISTJ.

As do other Introverted Thinkers, ISTJs often give the initial impression of being aloof and perhaps somewhat cold. Effusive expression of emotional warmth is not something that ISTJs do without considerable energy loss.

ISTJs are most at home with “just the facts, Ma’am.” They seem to perform at highest efficiency when employing a step-by-step approach. Once a new procedure has proven itself (i.e., has been shown “to work,”) the ISTJ can be depended upon to carry it through, even at the expense of their own health.

ISTJs are easily frustrated by the inconsistencies of others, especially when the second parties don’t keep their commitments. But they usually keep their feelings to themselves unless they are asked. And when asked, they don’t mince words. Truth wins out over tact. The grim determination of the ISTJ vindicates itself in officiation of sports events, judiciary functions, or an other situation which requires making tough calls and sticking to them.

His SJ orientation draws the ISTJ into the service of established institutions. Home, social clubs, government, schools, the military, churches—these are the bastions of the SJ. “We’ve always done it this way” is often reason enough for many ISTJs. Threats to time-honored traditions or established organizations (e.g., a “run” on the bank) are the undoing of SJs, and are to be fought at all costs.

... she’s an

ISFP

ISFJ ...

ISFP description replaced by ISFJ description.

ISFJs are characterized above all by their desire to serve others, their “need to be needed.” In extreme cases, this need is so strong that standard give-and-take relationships are deeply unsatisfying to them; however, most ISFJs find more than enough with which to occupy themselves within the framework of a normal life. (Since ISFJs, like all SJs, are very much bound by the prevailing social conventions, their form of “service” is likely to exclude any elements of moral or political controversy; they specialize in the local, the personal, and the practical.)

ISFJs are often unappreciated, at work, home, and play. Ironically, because they prove over and over that they can be relied on for their loyalty and unstinting, high-quality work, those around them often take them for granted—even take advantage of them. Admittedly, the problem is sometimes aggravated by the ISFJs themselves; for instance, they are notoriously bad at delegating (“If you want it done right, do it yourself”). And although they’re hurt by being treated like doormats, they are often unwilling to toot their own horns about their accomplishments because they feel that although they deserve more credit than they’re getting, it’s somehow wrong to want any sort of reward for doing work (which is supposed to be a virtue in itself). (And as low-profile Is, their actions don’t call attention to themselves as with charismatic Es.) Because of all of this, ISFJs are often overworked, and as a result may suffer from psychosomatic illnesses.

In the workplace, ISFJs are methodical and accurate workers, often with very good memories and unexpected analytic abilities; they are also good with people in small-group or one-on-one situations because of their patient and genuinely sympathetic approach to dealing with others. ISFJs make pleasant and reliable co-workers and exemplary employees, but tend to be harried and uncomfortable in supervisory roles. They are capable of forming strong loyalties, but these are personal rather than institutional loyalties; if someone they’ve bonded with in this way leaves the company, the ISFJ will leave with them, if given the option. Traditional careers for an ISFJ include: teaching, social work, most religious work, nursing, medicine (general practice only), clerical and and secretarial work of any kind, and some kinds of administrative careers.

While their work ethic is high on the ISFJ priority list, their families are the centers of their lives. ISFJs are extremely warm and demonstrative within the family circle—and often possessive of their loved ones, as well. When these include Es who want to socialize with the rest of the world, or self-contained ITs, the ISFJ must learn to adjust to these behaviors and not interpret them as rejection. Being SJs, they place a strong emphasis on conventional behavior (although, unlike STJs, they are usually as concerned with being “nice” as with strict propriety); if any of their nearest and dearest depart from the straight-and-narrow, it causes the ISFJ major embarrassment: the closer the relationship and the more public the act, the more intense the embarrassment (a fact which many of their teenage children take gleeful advantage of). Over time, however, ISFJs usually mellow, and learn to regard the culprits as harmless eccentrics . Needless to say, ISFJs take infinite trouble over meals, gifts, celebrations, etc., for their loved ones—although strong Js may tend to focus more on what the recipient should want rather than what they do want.

Like most Is, ISFJs have a few, close friends. They are extremely loyal to these, and are ready to provide emotional and practical support at a moment’s notice. (However, like most Fs they hate confrontation; if you get into a fight, don’t expect them to jump in after you. You can count on them, however, run and get the nearest authority figure.) Unlike with EPs, the older the friendship is, the more an ISFJ will value it. One ISFJ trait that is easily misunderstood by those who haven’t known them long is that they are often unable to either hide or articulate any distress they may be feeling. For instance, an ISFJ child may be reproved for “sulking,” the actual cause of which is a combination of physical illness plus misguided “good manners.” An adult ISFJ may drive a (later ashamed) friend or SO into a fit of temper over the ISFJ’s unexplained moodiness, only afterwards to explain about a death in the family they “didn’t want to burden anyone with.” Those close to ISFJs should learn to watch for the warning signs in these situations and take the initiative themselves to uncover the problem.

Her here and now personality contrasts starkly with my more deliberate manner. She is spontaneous. I’m regimented.

She is dominated by her feelings. I am driven by logical thought.

It’s a recipe for interpersonal disaster, especially when you live with an opposite like this. It’s why I recommended the test. With other feelers, I’ve found that recognizing that key difference makes life easier - I know to be more careful when I say something. They know not to take everything I say as a personal attack.

If you’re in a troubled relationship, be it marriage, parental, sibling, whatever, consider suggesting to the other party that you both take the MBTI and go over it together. It could help you to have a better understanding of what makes that person tick.

Thursday, January 27, 2005

So my assessment of Leroy Wells was correct.

Leroy Wells, 22, of Grand Bay, was arrested Jan. 5 on charges of assault and firing a weapon. Jail records show he’s also awaiting trial on drug charges and has pleaded guilty to marijuana possession in 2004 and disorderly conduct in June 2003.

How do you spell ... ? is a phrase I hear a lot around the house. Nee likes to write stories and constantly asks how to spell words. The other night, after ECD had spelled out several words without encouraging Nee to look them up or try to figure out how to spell them, I was compelled to say something.

How do you spell “juicy”?

“OK, hold on a minute,” I said to ECD before she could answer. Turning to Nee, I said, “How do you think you can figure that out?”

“I don’t know.” As parents, does that statement drive you nuts? I drives me insane.

“Come on, you’re a smart girl. How can you figure it out?”

“I don’t know.”

*sigh*

“Do you know how to spell “juice”?” I asked her.

“No.”

“OK, but you drink juice every day, right? You can figure out how to spell that by looking at the bottle,” I opened the frig and pulled out the bottle of juice to hand to her. “Look for the word “juice” and tell me how you spell it.”

Sadly, this bottle of juice didn’t have it in large, prominent letters so a little assistance was required. I pointed to the word. “So how do you think you spell “juicy” now that you see how to spell “juice”?”

“J-u-i-c-e-y?” she asked.

“Close,” and I explained how to drop the “e” when adding the “y” to the word.

Now, she was pretty frustrated with the whole exercise, but I was equally frustrated and done with hearing her ask how to spell things that I thought she should be able figure out on her own. ECD and I talked about it later and she confirmed that Nee is smart but lazy. She wants to know everything now and can’t be bothered with the actual learning process. I think she lacks critical thinking skills. I told ECD that I would help her to teach those skills to Nee, but that we both had to be consistent with her. When Nee asks for an instant answer to something we cannot just give it to her even if we’re tired and don’t want to take the time to teach her. If it’s a word she wants spelled, we point her to the dictionary. If it’s a math problem, we have her work it out. Because she needs to learn how to figure things out for herself - she’s nearly 9 years old, she should know how to do this.

What I’ve observed is that when Nee is interested in something she will try to learn about it, but when it’s something she doesn’t care about she wants the easy answer. That’s true for most of us, I’m sure, but it doesn’t benefit a child when we give them the easy answer. I’m afraid we’re raising a generation without critical thinking skills and it doesn’t bode well for their future our our country’s future if kids today don’t know how to find solutions or answers through research or study.

This is just my 2 cents, of course. And I’m not a parent, so maybe I’m expecting too much of a 9 year old. Other thoughts are welcome.

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

It’s dueling crackpots on American Idol 4. Leroy was hysterical and I loved when Simon turned to the others and asked if we here in American have some sort of subtitle button he could use. Heh. I thought Gene Simmons was very good as a guest judge - he had some really constructive things to say to the auditioners - more so than the others have in the past. I was very impressed, really.

I have an update about last week’s Medication Mary, whom I was reminded is from Manassas, VA, which is just down the street from where I now live. Nee was talking to her dad last night and when the show started she told him she had to go because AI was starting. To which he said that he sort of knew “that Mary girl” or words to that effect. Apparently he’s seen her in a local drinking establishment on occasion. We were wondering if it was a karaoke place, but we couldn’t think of any in the area. If ECD had been the one talking to him she would have asked probing questions, but you can’t expect a good interrogation from a 9 year old, can you?

Anyway, back to Leroy - we’re convinced he was on something and possibly in a gang as well. Nice, huh?

But a lot of people think that I have ready access to all manner of phone numbers. Tony’s QotD reminded me of a call I received this morning.

ME: US Marshals Service.

LADY: I’m wondering if you can help me.

*This opening statement always makes me wary. Always. Because it usually means that I can’t.*

ME: What’s your question?

LADY: I’m trying to find a phone number.

*I sigh*

ME: A phone number for what?

LADY: I’m looking for the number for the United States ...

*And there follows a very long pause on her part. I let it go for several seconds, waiting for her to complete the thought.*

ME: The United States what, ma’am?

LADY: The United States ... Post Office.

*You’ve got to be kidding me.*

ME: Ma’am, are you looking for their headquarters office or a local office in your town?

LADY: Yes.

*Help me, Lord.*

ME:  You’re looking for the local post office?

LADY: Yes.

ME: Ma’am, you need to call Information to get the number. Dial 4-1-1 and tell them you’re looking for the phone number of the post office.

*I can’t believe I’m telling an adult how to do this. How can an adult not know how to do this? And no, she’s not from a foreign country with a language problem. Astounding.*

LADY: I call who? What’s that number?

*sigh - I repeated the information*

LADY: And they’ll have the number?

ME: Yes, ma’am.

There was a point in the conversation where I started listening to her harder, thinking she may be Kirby pulling a prank, but she was legit. Unbelievable.

I reminds me that I have a post in the works (in my head) about intellectual laziness vs. critical thinking. Must write that up post haste.

My boss very often sends me video clips that he gets via email. Today, he got one from his son-in-law that he didn’t want to send to me, instead he had me come into his office to see it. It’s probably made the rounds, especially in law enforcement circles because it’s a primer on a huge screw up on the part of police. I’m still kind of shaken by it because it’s not what I expected to see. I expected something humorous, but this was sobering.

Plain clothes cop brings a perp into an interrogation room. Uncuffed perp sits in the chair, cop offers him water and walks out to get the water. The room door is open. Cop walks back in and hands the perp a bottle of water, places keys and a coffee cup on the counter, walks back out. Perp takes a few swigs of water and then reaches under his shirt and into his pants where he has a gun hidden. He puts the gun to his temple and fires the gun. Cops walk in and cuss a blue streak and the video ends.

“Is that for real?” I asked.

“Yep,” boss said.

I could feel the blood drain from my head even as I felt heat rise up. I’ve never seen anything like that and I hope I never do again.

Back story is that the guy was arrested for shooting a cop. Now how on earth did he get that far into the police station without anyone finding that gun and why on earth was he not cuffed?

LATER: I’m checking Snopes.com on this one, just to be sure.

LATERER: It’s true.