Jamison has joined the ranks of Brew...

No, I am not going to China... but I am a BlogCritic now (blogcritics.org) which likely means nothing to you guys, but it means LOADS for my site and my name. BC gets thousands of hits per day and covers the gamut of topics. And since there are so few Science and Tech writers with BC, my articles typically make the front page. Kind of exciting...

My latest article is here

Stay tuned to the home page of BC for my latest rant on Microsoft playing catch up to Google.

Dream: A Village, A Lion, and a Peculiar Death

I was in the suburbs with its nice, lovely houses, and quiet, manicured lawns, yet the community was full of third world looking natives. The dream started with a man being brought before the people who was badly burned all over. The local doctor had a look at him but confirmed there was nothing he could do to save the man, or ease his pain.

It was against the villages moral code to euthanize him, but they agonized over his pain. The doctor had a rather bizarre plan. He would take the man and place him inside a garage. He would then put a lion inside the garage. Sooner or later the lion would eat the sick man and put him out of his misery. The village would then kill the lion and eat it. This way they would also be consuming the man and absorbing his wisdom, or something. This was perfectly acceptable and good, even though killing them man themselves or eating him directly would be bad.

The entire village gathered around the dying man and the garage. The man's wife or mother, I couldn't tell which, wailed loudly as the body was moved towards the garage. At some point the loved one grabbed ahold of one of the men carrying the dying man and started to do the conga behind him. Others gathered and they formed a long, and boisterous conga line.

Finally the dying man was placed into the garage and the lion was brought forth. Before the lion was placed into the garage, a young boy snuck in as he wanted to watch the lion eat the man. The lion then went in and we waited outside the garage.

After a bit we went inside, only to find a different sort of scene than we expected. The lion was lying dead beside a dead mauled boy, while the burned man was standing upright with a knife in his hand. It seems he had pushed the boy towards the lion which proceeded to eat the boy. As the lion was distracted by the boy, the burned man killed it with his knife.

The village uproared at the man having used the boys life to save his own. The man replied that he wasn't quite ready to die and thus did the only thing he could do to stay alive.

Arguments went about, and I awoke.

Stuck Inside of Memphis (With the Mobile Phone Blues Again)

"I hate cell phones."

That has been my mantra against mobiles for many a year now. It has always been true too. Until recently at least. Until we moved to China, I had never owned a mobile phone. Truth is I never needed one. I'm not exactly a big telephone guy. I don't make many calls. Don't receive many calls. I try to stay off the phone as much as possible.

I had never seen a need to get a mobile. I've always had a house phone, and I normally have a direct line at work. I spend pretty much the majority of my time at either of those places, and those who need me have those numbers. When I am out and about, I have voice mail where I can receive messages. Do I really need to talk to anybody so badly that I have to take the call while I'm driving? Shopping? At church? No on all accounts.

I'm sure they come in useful for emergencies, or automobile problems. People survived for many years without mobile phones during emergencies and auto problems, I used to say to myself, and thus I can survive without them now.

And so, without a phone, I often found myself high and mighty. Abuses abound with cellular phones, for sure. You can constantly see people talking on their phones while driving. These same people will be swerving across lanes, driving entirely too slow, they are slow on the take off from stop lights, and often are seen cutting others off.

So many times I see cell phone users, rudely take a call while they are chatting with someone in person, or gathered at a meal. Even worse I see them constantly taking calls while they are ordering food, or at the cash register while shopping. 'How rude' I think to treat the cashier so poorly as to not acknowledge them.

In Shanghai, mobile phones are just about necessary. Traveling about the city, it is very easy to get lost, or separated from the group. Cell phones come in very handy. Often, when I am out, I have had to call someone for directions. Plentys the time I have called someone when getting into a cab so that they could tell the cab driver where to go. Shopping is an adventure all its own. The stores are often very large, and always crowded with huge amounts of people. Amy and I often call each other in the stores just to figure out where we are.

Etc.

I am sure we could manage without cell phones whilst living here, but the convenience factor finally made us succumb. And now I have fallen prey to all the things I hate. The other day I was shopping for some warm clothes for Japan and just as I was coming up to the counter I got a text message. Amy got one too, at the same time. Both of us immediately got out our phones and began texting a reply.

I threw my items for purchase up on the counter. Paid no attention at all to the cashier, and tried to fish out the cash whilst still texting.

Then it dawned on me on what I was doing and I was so ashamed.

I understand now why so many people become so rude with these devices. It is so hard not to answer when the phone rings. It is crazy difficult not to read and reply to a text when I receive them. There is something so primal about the need to answer the call. In my pre-cell phone days I would often not answer my land line. Certain times of the day I knew the call was not going to be for me, or would be annoying and I'd simply ignore the ringing. I can't do that with my cell phone.

Maybe it is because I can tell who is calling now. Knowing that it is my friend Sara, or my sister makes me need to answer. Even not knowing the number makes me interested in who it could be.

And thus I have become what I have hated.

Brewster Comments
Exactly Diana. I text all the time cause it is so much easier, and cheaper to do so than to call. If I have something slightly complicated to say, I'll call, but if it is just making plans or whatever, I always text.

It Is A Small World After All

Me and some friends took a weekend trip to the small city of Ningbo (population 5 million) this weekend. The reason for the trip gets a little complicated but it is worth the telling.

My wife and I have a friend, Pam, who works at the same school as my wife. Pam has an Australian friend named Lucinda who is also in Shanghai but works for another school and lives more in the central part of the city (we're way out on the outskirts of Shanghai.) A few months ago Lucinda visited the US and on her flight back to China she sat with a young Guatemalan man named Gus.

Gus lives in Ningbo and he is the reason we all went (turns out Lucinda wasn't really interested in romance there, but wanted to see him and figured bringing a half dozen of her friends would ensure he got the point.)

When we arrive in Ningbo we find that Gus has also invited a friend along who is actually from a little city very near Shanghai. I get to talking to Gus and it turns out he has lived in Arkansas for the last many years. Searcy Arkansas. And he went to Harding University.

I get a little excited at this news and mention that I have friends who went to Harding, and almost went myself.

At this point we're both a little 'no way,' and so Gus yells at his friend who also went to Harding. We start going through the whole 'do you know...?' thing but as they are many years younger than me there wasn't any overlap in who we knew at Harding.

Then we start talking about me and I say that I'm in China because of my sister and - holy crap - both boys know my sister and her husband! Actually Gus's friend lives in the same building, the same freaking floor, as my brother-in-laws parents.

So to recap my friend's Australian friend went to America and on her plane ride back to China she meets a Guatemalan. Just for friend the Australian and Guatemalan decide to meet up in a city about four hours from Shanghai. The Australian feels awkward and invites her friend who invites me. The Guatemalan feels awkward and invites his friend. Both the Guatemalan and his friend know my sister and one of them lives very close to my brother-in-laws parents.

Seriously, how whacked is that?

Dumbledore Is Gay

So saw his author.

Christopher Walken Has A Blog

And it is.http://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif

Ok, it really isn't written by Christopher Walken, but it is hilarious.

Substitution

This week I played substitute teacher for a fifth grade science class. It was my first foray into the world of substituting, but hopefully not my last.

For many years of my life I believed I wanted to be some sort of educator. Some sculptor of young minds. I toyed with the idea of being a youth minister, a college professor, or a high school teacher.

Instead I became a corporate, working schlub. I’m not really complaining about that as I’ve made some good money, gained a lot of experience, and had a lot of fun. I’ve been doing that for so long I kind of gave up the idea of being a teacher.

Truth is, I don’t really know how to relate to young people anymore. I’m not an old koot who sits around talking about the kids today and how we did things “back in my day.” I just realize that I have my own life and interest, and those things are not shared with the youngsters.

So it is kind of strange that I am now finding myself as a substitute teacher.

I got the call early Monday morning. The teacher was stuck in Taiwan due to the typhoon and I was needed to substitute Monday through Wednesday. I arrived a little while later with no more information. I walked into the administrator’s office, was given some lesson plans the teacher had e-mailed over, a key to the office and was shoved in the general direction of the class.

That’s it. No instructions on discipline or class times or anything really. Here’s your key and your lessons, now go teach.

I arrived a few minutes before the kids and quickly looked over the plans. Homeroom is first. They come in for twenty minutes in the morning then scatter off to their first class. I was instructed to talk to them about typhoons.

The kids came in, loud and rambunxious. Immediately there was a chorus of “where’s Mr. Homestead?” Quickly though they settled down and took their seats. I explained where there teacher was and we started talking about typhoons. For the most part the class was really good. They were attentive and quiet and they all wanted to talk.

That first twenty minutes went by quickly and I was relieved that it went so well.

The bell rang and the kids got their stuff and lined up at the door. I sat at my desk and looked over the notes for what I was supposed to do next. I had no idea what was next, actually. I assumed a class would come in, but I didn’t know when and I didn’t know for how long.

Lost in those thoughts my kids got really quiet. Then there were whispered arguments. Finally someone piped up “are we dismissed?’

Oh, I guess I’m supposed to dismiss them. And so I did.

A few minutes later a new boy popped his head inside the classroom and asked if they could come in. Once I said yes, the whole lot of them came bustling in. I guess I’m not only supposed to dismiss class, but give the new ones permission to come in.

We were supposed to discuss different study techniques and they best ways to prepare for an exam. My notes were pretty well laid out, and so it was easy to follow. Again, these kids were mostly good. They were a little more involved with each other, and a couple of times I had to ask some of them to be quiet, but mostly they were attentive and wanted to talk.

One boy seemed intent on bragging. When I asked him where he usually studied, his answer came out “in front of my 27” widescreen LCD television.” Later when I asked when he studied he said something like “after watching a really funny movie, and playing a really violent video game.” Everything he said seemed designed to show how much cool stuff he had.

Later he mentioned that his parents lived in Canada and he was staying with his grandparents. Suddenly this made sense. I suspect his grandparents didn’t have the slightest idea how to control him, and his kept sending him expensive gifts because they felt guilty for shipping him to China.

Mostly though, the kids were good.

Another class ended and this time I dismissed them and invited the new bunch to come in. This class too was good, and I was getting the hang of maintaining control while encouraging everyone to talk.

It was after this second period that my wife came to visit. She also pointed out where the schedule was. Finally I had some idea of who was coming in and when.

The rest of my classes went really well. Fifth grade seems amazingly well behaved. There was only one other problem child, and he wasn’t that bad. Mainly he just wouldn’t pay any attention to either his classmates or me. He doodled, he did other homework, he chatted with his neighbors.

These are the kids I have no idea how to handle. Most kids realize that when they are talking they aren’t supposed to and thus a little talking too quiets them up. Most kids recognize an authority figure. This kid was either oblivious or didn’t care. I wanted to punch him in the face. I wanted to shake him hard. Mainly I left him a lone unless he got disruptive to the rest of the class. Then I’d ask him to be quiet, and he would. For about two minutes.

For day two I was to give them an assignment. They were to divide up into groups and prepare part of the chapter for a presentation. This was to help prepare them for the exam next week.

That was easy. I split them up, gave the instructions and then simply made sure they kept the noise levels down.

There were no problems at all in any class.

Wednesday was tougher. They had to give the presentations and I had to grade them. I don’t know how to grade. I don’t know what is a reasonable presentation for a fifth grader. I was lenient.

I have to admit I’m a little sad today not being in class. It was an exhausting, irritating experience in many ways. Sometimes I wanted to scream, storm out, and set fire to the bunch. Most of the time though they were a joy to talk to and laugh with and get to know.

Three days isn’t a very long time but I think I connected with some of those kids and that’s pretty special.

**Comments**

Sorry Jamison I cannot comment on the shanghai blog either. I can only comment on my midnightcafe blog.

The kids are mostly made up of employees from the company that built the school. It is an international company and thus the kids are very international. They have an english track and a chinese track. I taught at the english track so all of the kids spoke english. A lot of them are Chinese Americans, some of just regular Americans and a few come from other countries but have learned English in one way or another.

The New Midnight Cafe

After I just wrote a comment saying that the blog is dead and that I won't be writing anymore, here I am writing. This is really just a pimp for my new blog, so don't get too excited.

After talking and talking and thinking about having my own webspace and url, I finally went and done it. The Midnight Cafe (http://www.themidnightcafe.org) is now formally open for business.

I had hoped to get some midnightcafe.org action, but unfortunately that url has already been taken. After more consideration I decided to add the "the" to the front. It is a little more awkward, but hopefully easy enough to remember.

I won't be writing any random personal bits at the Cafe (that still belongs to the Shanghai Cafe.) Basically I'll be writing my reviews and pop culture essays with a strong sprinkling of random links that I find interesting.

I like it, and I hope you guys will too.

PS Thanks to Kellie for working on the banner. Though it will probably still be worked on.

Awesome Picture Of Shanghai

I didn't take this picture, and I'm afraid I don't know who did, but man, that's a nice shot.

A little history (since you asked.) The Huangpu river is a natural divider of Shanghai. I live in the Pudong are of the city which is east of the river (pudong literally meaning east of Haungpu.) This area is also known as the "new area" as it is a relatively newly developed part of the city.

Quite literally in the early 90s most of Pudong was in fact nothing more than rice fields and farm land. It was then that the city decided to give foreign investors something to do and it has grown by leaps and bounds over the last two decades.

This picture was taken from Pudong looking towards the main city. The tall glittery buildings you see in the foreground is the commercial district of Pudong, and the rest of Shanghai is across the river.

The big tower in the center of the picture is the Pearl Tower which is a very famous landmark in Shanghai. The area just beyond the river is known as the Bund which is a long stretch of buildings that is now mostly known for lots of shopping, but also contains many old school China architecture.http://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif

The skyline in Shanghai is absolutely gorgeous (when you can see it, for it is often obscured by the smog.)

And that's your lesson about the picture.

**Edit** I can't make comments so I'll just add an addendum here, and maybe someone will read it. Mullins I have talked about food. Several times. But it is over there on my shanghai blog. I tend to not post my China adventures here as I already post them there and it seems silly to double post. I mean, if you are interested just drop by there.

I guess if everybody would rather me post that stuff here, I can double up a few more interesting pieces.

The Midnight Cafe

For about a year now I have been saying that I am going to buy some real webspace and get a regular URL for my blog. The reasons for this are many stemming mainly from my desire to have some real web real estate. My blog has grown to have a very decent hit count (I generate anywhere from 200 to700 unique visitors a day) and I think I can gain even more when I get out of the whole wordpress/blogger free spaces.

Now of course I won't be making mad money with it anytime soon, but a professional look coupled with some targeted writing could pay for my web space plus buy me the occasional Coke product. That's good enough for me.

I am super serious this time about getting web space this time. For about eight bucks a month I can get a .mac account which has more than enough space and add-ons to make it worth my while. I am telling everyone this because I need your help in the design department.

The first thing I need is a banner for the top of the blog. I am going to keep the name "Midnight Cafe" and as such the banner should reflect this. I am thinking maybe something in a dark blue (to represent the night sky) for a background color with yellow writing. I think maybe having some little stars mixed in would be good, and even that we could make the "c" in cafe look like a crescent moon.

I might like some little cocktail glasses and a baguette or something in there as well. I'm not all that set on that idea, but something to represent the cafe part of Midnight Cafe would be good.

I'm not really a design guy and I totally suck at drawing this type of thing, which is where you guys come in. Any of you creative types that has a moment of free time I would absolutely love it if you would make up some banners for me.

I know some of you could do it, and do it awesome, but I also realize you may not have the time.

Since China makes it impossible for me to comment on this blog, please submit the banners or ask any questions to my e-mail. Also, if anyone has any interest in helping me create the entire blog let me know.

Thanks gang.

The Shanghai Cafe

I created a new blog for my China adventures. After much deliberation I finally decided on the fairly lame name of The Shanghai Cafe. It seemed fitting as it is both where I am living and a nod to the old cafe.

It is a little sparse right no, obviously and won't be updated to much until we get internet in our home. But feel free to read and comment.

PS if the link doesn't work properly just click on my name and you'll find the blog. I'm working on a barely working connection and the site isn't pulling up for me at all.

Four Days

Four days from this moment I will be flying over some part of Canada heading north and west. We leave Tulsa in the wee hours of the morning to Chicago. From there it is all the way to Shanghai. Twenty odd hours of travel, 14 from Chicago to Shanghai.

That's a long time no matter how you shake it. I've loaded my carry on with books and magazines. I've checked the airline for what movies will be showing. The iPod contains some 18,000 songs, several audio books, two movies and a television program. I'm going to carry some Tylenol PM with me so that I might sleep a few hours, and heavier prescription sleep medicine in case I decide to knock myself out.

We are mostly ready to go. The bags have been packed and repacked and repacked. We have a box of winter clothes to mail. And some reserve books in boxes in case we need to mail those. We have scanned a million articles and books to help Amy with her research. We have loaded every song we've ever heard on to the hard drives. We have chosen books and movies to take. We have had long debates over which clothes to pack, what toiletries we'll need, etc.

We already have an apartment there. Brian and Bethany took a gander at it and said it was ok, it even has an American toilet and a real bathtub. They have bought us a bed, couch, comfy chair, kitchen table and other things. We will stay in a hotel for a few days while all of this is moved in, but soon should be settled.

The school pays for the hotel, will reimburse us 80% of our flight and give us a grand to help settle in.

I'm nervous. Nervous as crap. And yet I am so ready to go and get it done. This waiting around is killing me. I know we will have a good time. I know it will be a meaningful experience. I have no idea what to expect.

I plan to create a new blog just for my daily ramblings about china. I'll keep my regular blog up for the pop culture explorations, and the occasional long form essay about life, but I figure it's better to have a separate one for the normal day-to-day activities.

Any suggestions on what cool, quirky, ironic name I should give this blog?

Of course I'll keep you guys up to date here as well, even if it is just a link over to my place.

Also I don't know when I'll get an internet connection over there, so I may be intermittent for awhile.

The Long And Dirty Tale Of The 35" Televison

Shortly after my brief affair with graduate school I landed myself a well paying job. I was young. I was single. I was making a lot more money than I had ever made in my life.

I bought a large, bulky 35" Sanyo television. This was long before flat screens and wide screens and easily lift able televisions. The thing was massive, weighed a ton and because of the shape of the tube it was incredibly difficult to hold onto.

But it showed a wonderful picture and it was nice and big to look at. I loved it.

Well I loved it, until I had to move anyways, and then I cursed at its weighty bulkiness. My poor father in law has helped me move it half a dozen times and every time he threatens to drop it accidentally-on-purpose.

With the China move I decided to sell it. I was tired of moving it, we had no room to store it and I figured with the money we'd make over seas I could afford a new one when we got back.

I posted it on local boards and a few national internet places as well. I put the price low and promised I could go lower for the right story. As I am forgetful and lazy and a procrastinator, none of this happened until about three weeks before we had to move.

Desperate is the word.

About a week into it I got an odd phone call. The call was from a third party operator who told me he had someone on the other line who was making the call, but who was on a keyboard. This person would type something, and then the operator would read it to me. I then responded and the operator typed out what I said.

At the end of each statement I made I had to say "go ahead" as the signal that I was done talking.

Sounds easy enough, and it was, except I kept forgetting to say "go ahead" and there would be these long pauses interrupted by the operator asking if I was done. Or sometimes there would be a long pause where the other guy had expected more out of me and he would ask me if I was still there.

At the time I thought he was just using some internet dealie instead of calling, perhaps to save on long distance, but now I guess he was hearing impaired.

Still we agreed on a price, and we arranged to set up details via the e-mail.

I sent the pricing and instructions on how to deliver. And waited.

And waited.

Just as I was getting perturbed, he e-mailed back. It sounded like all things were go, but to be honest the e-mail was so full of spelling and grammar mistakes, I wasn't sure what he was really saying. There was something about him needing to locate his shipper and something else about Western Union. To be honest again, it started to sound like a scam, but again it was so horribly written I couldn't be sure. I wound up replying that it was all ok and to simply let me know when he was ready.

More days passed and I sent another e-mail explaining I was leaving very soon and needed to get the sale completed by the next week. He e-mailed me saying he was sorry and that I would have the payment early the upcoming week. Again all the e-mails were poorly written and didn't make a lot of sense, but again I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

I got a few other responses but ignored them as I hoped this original one would come through.

About Wednesday I gave up and offered it to the church. After much discussion they arranged to have some stout fellas pick it up. We hobbled it down the stairway, nearly dropping it twice and I was finally done with the TV.

On Saturday, after we were already in Indiana I received an e-mail from dude asking me if I had received his payment. Suddenly his words were very clear and the deal he had tried to make with me was that I would cash his check and contact his shippers. For some reason he said he was unable to get his payment to the shippers in time so he sent "extra" to me. I was supposed to then go to Western Union and make the shippers payment via that service out of my own money - the payback was already in his check to me you see.

Scam city. I'm certain his check would have later bounced and he'd be walking away with my good payment to the shippers. I even suspect he would be the shipper and the whole weird phone call is so that I would not recognize his voice when he arrived for pick up.

I decided to not respond to his e-mail. The only things I could think of to say were rude, rude and socially unacceptable. As I had already given him information about me I didn't want to piss him off and make him do something harsh or illegal to my personage. There was also a small nagging part of me that thought maybe he was hard off and on the up and up and I didn't want to crush the poor guy.

He e-mailed me again the next day and I decided to write a polite letter explaining he was too late, that I had given it away, and that I would never pay his shippers as it sounded like a scam. Then I said don't contact me again.

He hasn't, but I still feel mad and dirty.

Pictures Of World War I

I've recently become fascinated with World War I. There have been so many movies made, and words printed about World War II that it seems like the first one gets over looked. Perhaps thats because the reasons behind fighting WWII are more compelling and understandable, while the Great War is kind of muddled. Perhaps it is because more people are still alive that survived the second one. Maybe it is due to some other reason, I don't know. Whatever the reasons it is certainly more easy to find information on the second war than the first.

However, whenever I read about the first war, in some ways it seems even more horrific, disgusting and hellish than the second.

Photographic Hieght/Weight Chart

Very interesting and kind of cool little chart. Basically they have a graph breaking down a group of heights and weights and then anybody can add a photo of them self for that particular weight/height. It is kind of a cool way to see what other people in your own category look like. I wish they had a way where you could look at a picture and then guess their height/weight, but I guess this is a more serious exercise.

Harry Potter Speculation

I just went back and read Sipper's post, "Harry Potter Must Die" from October of last year. I must admit at the time I skipped that post entirely, and any comment about Harry Potter as I had not yet read any of the books or seen the movies (though I did read comments about other subjects.

I now want to comment on that post, plus add a few of my own speculations to the pile. Obviously I have now read all six available books and I watched the Order of the Phoenix last night.

Harry Potter shall not die. Sipper speculates (and I'll not comment on the fact that this speculation was coming from a man who had not yet read the books and could have only seen the first four films at that time) that Harry will, and in fact must, die by the end of the last books. His main points are that Rowling is writing in the tradition of Tolkein and Lewis and that they both knew, and therefore Rowling must also know that the only way to end a great fantasy is to allow their characters to die or go to heaven.

Now I have not actually read any of the Narnia books all the way through, and I am only familiar with the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, so I cannot comment too much on him, but I have read the Lord of the Rings series.

However I must immediately differ in opinions with Mr. Sipper. In the famous Lewis book, it is true that the main character, the lion king Aslan dies. However, like Jesus he comes back to life to save the day by books end. I think it is safe to say that Harry won't be resurrected in these books as he is not the Jesus figure. Perhaps I am missing something from the other books, and feel free to argue that out with me.

In LOTR though, almost everyone lives. In fact there is a long prologue discussing the long lives they all live after Mordor is destroyed. I suspect the argument is that the elves and Gandalf, etc all go away into some mystical land that is really heaven. Good arguments can be made for that allusion, and I don't want to argue them, but I don't see this as a real death finishing off the characters, but a way for them to move on and have a happy ending. There is a lot more too that, but I'll leave it vague for now.

Mainly though I don't think Rowling is in the same league as Tolkein and Lewis. She simply isn't as good a writer. Tolkein was writing very serious literature in the vein of a fantasy novel. Lewis was writing religious allegory. Rowling is writing pop fantasy. It is good pop fantasy, but I wouldn't really elevate it to great literature status.

She writes for the reader, and her readers will revolt if Harry dies. And even though her readers now include millions of adults, her books have always been essentially for children. Death of Harry is a very big blow to the kids. Having him die in battle will bring no real victory for him, and though she makes mentions of ghosts and a vague afterlife, there has been no strong foretelling of a heaven like place as in LOTR.

The prophecy also essentially says that Harry and Voldemort must battle and that only one will live. That's a crummy prophecy if both of them wind up dying. No, I think Harry will live to see the end of the book. I will say he might wind up living a difficult, sorrowful life after much like Frodo. But I kind of doubt that too.

But this long diatribe isn't just about Harry, but some of his gang too.

Dumbeldore shall rise again. Rowling has stated she is a fan of Lewis and partially modeled on the Narnia books. Dumbledore is the obvious leader and is a God-like character so he is a good choice to rise from the dead. Although I've never seen any official acknowledgment, he has always reminded me of Gandalf, whom as we know also came back from a grave, of sorts.

Then there is the phoenix, Dumbeldore's pet bird. It constantly dies and is reborn in a bit of fire. Remember then Dumbeldore's funeral where a great big fire arose out of his grave and the bird also flew over. Seems like a good allusion to Dumbeldore coming back.

He was also very interested in learning all he could about Voldemort, and especially his ability to be reborn so to speak. I think Dumbeldore has learned that magic and will come back from the grave just as Harry most needs him.

Snape is totally a good guy. His killing of Dumbledore was not only intentional, but demanded by Dumbeldore himself. When you read the end of the sixth book it read as though Dumbeldore was surprised by Snape and was overpowered by him. But if you read it in the context of Dumbeldore wanting to die, then the conversation reads more like Dumbeldore demanding Snape kill him while Snape tries to get out of it.

Sirius, I think is dead for sure, but I suspect he will come back in some form. Maybe as a ghost who helps Harry out in some way, like giving information. Though he might be more like Yoda in Star Wars.

I'm also going to state for the record that Ginny is going to bite it. We need another main character death, but we've come to love the rest of the Weasleys too much. Ron and Hermione have to fall in love so they are out. But Harry and Ginny will become much closer, she will fight bravely but will get smited. That way we have another good death, Harry suffers even more, and the fans can still take it.

Well, that was long, and it was written in two sessions, so my apologies if it seems disjointed. Mainly I wanted to get some HP discussion going.

Greatest. Jeans. Ever.

That's One Bad Anaconda

We'll Never Get Out Of This Place

The furnace at our apartment has not worked properly since last November. Over the winter the heat worked sporadically. It would blow hot air for maybe thirty minutes and then the air would turn coolish - not really cold, but not enough to properly heat either. After a few hours we could turn the heat back on and it would be warm again.

As our winter was mostly mild, and the thirty minutes was enough to keep the house relatively warm, and I'm not afraid of a bit of cold weather I never complained about it.

As it turned warm, however, we have learned out AC does not work either. In the Spring when we first needed to use the coolness of the air conditioner, we found that the unit wasn't really producing cold air. It was more like a perpetual fan. At first I didn't complain about this, because it wouldn't really bother me so much until night, and by then the office was closed. Then the next day would wind up being cooler and everything was OK.

For awhile.

Eventually there were several warm days in a row and I complained. Nothing really happened, but it would again get cooler and I would let it passed. This series - warm weather hitting, me complaining, nothing being done, cool weather - reoccurred several times over a couple of months.

Then it got very warm, and I complained a lot. Then the stories began coming. The maintenance man would look at it, adjust something and think he had it fixed. The problem was he would come on days that weren't too terribly hot and feel the air coming trough the vent and decide it was cool air, when in fact it was more like fan air.

It would get warmer, I'd complain more, he'd come back and adjust something else. This went on for a few weeks. Then he needed to order a part, but our units are so old finding parts are difficult. There were a lot of things said, and I won't flat out call them lies but in the end a lot of things didn't happen like they said they would.

Eventually the mystery part came and our air did work.

For awhile.

And by work I mean there was cool air, but it was weird. If I set the temperature gage at something normal, say 70 degrees, when the actual temperature arrived near that temperature, the pipes would freeze.

The only way the unit would work is if we ran it down at 50 degrees. Sweet cold air flowed. And flowed. And flowed. We would wake up in the middle of the night and it would be like 54 degrees inside. I worked out a system where I would run it like that then turn off the unit. It wouldn't get warm again until late in the afternoon the following day at which time I would crank it back down again.

This lasted maybe a month. One day the air was only semi-cool. It would get the temperature to about 72 degrees but no lower. Then the next day it was back to fan air again.

I complained everyday for a week and finally the maintenance came out and recharged the unit. It was cool for a day and then went back to fan air.

That was three weeks ago. Everyday I have complained since then. Everyday they tell me they will get it fixed.

It is currently 80 degrees in my apartment. This is cool to me now, as usually at this time it is close to 90 degrees. It rained today though, so it is a little cooler.

A few side notes:

The maintenance man is not certified. He likes to tinker with the units, but is not really qualified to fix them. Until yesterday they had never thought to call a qualified, certified HVAC person. The maintenance man also likes to take his time. If he says he'll be by in the morning we're lucky to see him the next day. He is horrible at communications too. He comes in, piddles with the switches then leaves for long stretches. He never tells us what he's doing.

He also doesn't tell the staff what he is doing, as they never, ever know.

The staff is incompetent. There are at least half a dozen girls working in the office. They work 9 in the morning to 8 at night, but there shifts are strange and interchangeable. They don't communicate together. So when one day I tell one girl the problem she will swear it will get fixed. To prove it she writes it down on a little pad. But then the next day I come to complain it isn't fixed another girl is sitting there and has no idea what I am talking about.

On and on it goes. At this point since I have been complaining every single day for three weeks a couple of the girls know me, and one of them remembers my problems, but the other one knows who I am but not my problem.

They all look at me like I'm crazy when I complain that it is freaking hot in my apartment.

The manager is certifiable. I'd guess she was in her 40s but it is hard to tell. She is full of wrinkles and her skin is full of leather. She is one of those ladies who spent her formative years fake baking in a tanning booth so that now her skin looks terrible. She is also one of those ladies who doesn't understand this concept.

I have never seen her in anything then a very short skirt with a top that squishes her breasts together and pokes them out. Today, I kid you not, her skirt was maybe 2 inches from her butt cheeks, it was see through enough to reveal her under garmets and I saw more leathery cleavage than I would ever wish upon a man.

Yesterday, a poor girl who I have only seen once before got a bit of my wrath. I demanded a real HVAC guy and she had to call the maintenance man twice. Promises were made that a real one would be here tomorrow at 2 in the pm.

It is currently five and no one has showed. Half an hour ago I saw the manager who had no idea what I was talking about. She was however, very concerned about her dog. She pointed me in the direction of the maintenance guy who was working on his truck. I had to go talk to him by myself. He promised the AC guy would be here today because, and I quote "he gets paid today."

When I asked him if he could make sure this man would check on my unit he gave a very vague response and then made an inside joke to his partner.

We are moving to Oklahoma soon. Our furniture is already moved out, but Amy needs to do some things at the library so she'll have materials for her dissertation. I'm ready to burn the place down and forget about it all.

Sorry for the long rant, but I'm super pissed but am such a weenie that I can't really curse the apartment people out.

Cat Wake-up Call

Sorry to interupt the baby talk, but this is semi-appropritate as a cat is as close to having a baby as I'm going to have...for awhile.

I no longer need an alarm clock anymore for I have a cat. Every morning anywhere from 6 to 8 in the am, my cat Thumbelina, decides it is time for me to get up. Her first measure of offense to get me out of bed is simple pouncing. She jumps up onto my bed, and then onto my body, usually with another jump.

If she is lucky this is met with a simple “umph” from myself, followed by a gentle swat to get her off of me.

If my wife is not so lucky, Thumbelina dodges my swat with a giant leap off of me and onto the wife’s belly. This is followed by a large “oooooowwwww!” from my wife and a not so gentle swat to the cat.

This usually gets rid of the cat for ten minutes or so.

Just like a snooze alarm, she comes back for more.

Often the jumping/swatting routine is repeated several times. As I ease into awaked-ness I am less likely to swat the cat away as to simply let her be. What this means for the cat is that she begins to crawl across my body.

I am typically a side sleeper, as sleeping on my belly isn’t comfortable and sleeping on my back makes me snore and gives me nightmares. So, the cat tends to start somewhere near my middle, crawling across my hips onto my ribcage and sometimes up to my shoulders. Most of this is quite uncomfortable and eventually I make the roll over to get her off which usually makes Thumbelina jump onto Amy again and we start the snooze process all over again.

After all of this Thumbelina still has one more move to get me out of bed. She no longer tries to walk on me to get me up, but rather nuzzles up beside me. Take this morning for example – after jumping on me a time or two she crept up towards my hands and gently bumped them with her head.

Thumbelina is very much a lap-cat and when she cannot find a lap on which to cuddle, she rubs her head gently upon a part of my body. While lying in bed early this morning, this is exactly what she did to my hand – with a little nasty addendum.

She nuzzles the hand briefly as if to let me know she means no harm, and then she brings out the claws. Internally I’m thinking – oh how nice a little head but to let me know she loves me – and then she scratches the crap out of me.

Actually it isn’t too bad a scratch as more of a letting me know she can get violent if I don’t get up soon. Like a trained killer she doesn’t scratch my skin to leave any evidence, but gives me just enough pain to give me a warning.

This garners a pretty big swat. But she isn’t through. Oh no, if I am still not up she comes back with more head cuddles and menacing scratches.

At this point I either throw her out of the room and shut the door (knowing full well she will only scratch at the door) or I actually get up and feed her or let her outside or do whatever it is she wants.

She’s a crafty one that cat of mine.