Ruminating Slav

Wherein I refuse to address the issue at hand

I know, right? Let's not speak of it.

Hey, guess what? Tomorrow the Slav Family heads to New York City. BK has been out of town an outrageous amount the past month (I opted not to accompany him to Milan with Baxter, because, come on. Who are we kidding? Bad idea.) so Bax and I are tagging along. Did you know a certain Buffy alum is currently filming a movie on the Lower East side? No? Well, I DO.

I bought two pairs of new shoes!



Remember when I was all geeking out over that software update I'd be getting on my Directv TiVo? Well, I got it, and it hasn't been pretty. The past three weeks have been full of phone calls to the Directv people, multiple lost recordings, audio dropouts, reformatting of hard drives, and 50% more gray in my hair. The problem, she is fixed? No.

My kid turned a year old!



I'll spare you the cake-smooshing shots, but if you're the sort who enjoys looking at photos of small children coated with chocolate icing, knock yourself out.

You've been thinking about my Macbook Pro, haven't you? Admit it. The latest there is a sudden refusal to go to sleep upon closing, which is apparently a known issue following the 10.4.8 upgrade. I've reset the PRAM on mine and it seems to have solved the problem. FOR NOW.

Hey, fellow Veronica Mars afficionados! How about that last episode? LoVe? Regina Spektor? WEEVIL? Good times. (I cannot write more as El Paso has screwed poor SueSue up the pooper -- the cable co. there hasn't signed a contract with the CW yet and she cannot watch. The horror. My god, the horror.) And you, the brave, the geeky, the Battlestar Galactica viewers! Did Friday's episode rip you a new one or what? To borrow a phrase from Canadian pre-teen programming, IT WENT THERE.

My godfather visited for Baxter's birthday, all the way from Poland:



cue inevitable Lech Wałęsa comparisons

In November I head down to San Antonio for the way to help my college roommate celebrate her recent wedding (congrats, the artist formerly known as KCG!), then it's off to Mississippi for a BK Family Thanksgiving, complete with a brand-new addition to the family, and finally Christmas in Canada with the Stanimal and his wife.

Let us revisit these topics and others soon.

A few stories about Poland

1. My godmother's mother-in-law, like seemingly every other human being over the age of 50 in Poland, has cancer. A couple of weeks ago my godmother had to take her to the hospital, and on their way the mother-in-law made her stop twice: once for a bottle of cognac and once for a bouquet of flowers. Welcome to not-quite-yet-transitioned-to-capitalism healthcare!

2. People in Poland have lost their minds about Pope John Paul II. I lack words to describe to you just how bananas the country is, but here are a few examples: a) In the time between the Pope's death and funeral, almost everyone in the country dressed in mourning. Like, even the TV anchors. b) There is no criticism of the Pope or the Catholic Church allowed in mainstream Polish media. c) Just in case you think I'm kidding about point b, please enjoy this article about Polish newspaper editor Jerzy Urban being TRIED IN COURT AND FINED for criticizing the Pope.

3. My great-aunt told me that when I was a baby I did not like crowds so my father used to take me with him to the grocery store on days when there would be a delivery of something (ham! toilet paper!) so that I would scream and people would let him go to the front of the line. She then told me that this was common practice and that if babies did not cry people would pinch their asses until they did. Oh, and the babyless would borrow babies. So there you go.

4. In Poland there's a show that's sort of a cross between Jeopardy! and Who Wants to be a Millionaire for kids. The other day on the interview portion the host was quizzing an 11-year-old girl about something or another, and in her answer the girl made reference to "the gray reality of everyday life." HELLO?!?! You are ELEVEN.

5. In accordance with tradition, I have now seen some of the weakest offerings Hollywood has ground out in the past six months, including Be Cool, The Translator, Miss Congeniality 2, Constatantine, Meet the Fockers, National Treasure, and Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason.

And she's off!

It seems I had me one of them 24-hour bugs, so I am off to Poland today. I'm not sure what my internet situation will be there, but I'll keep my eyes peeled for hotspots as I galavant around town.

I think the fever might have fried my brain a litte, though. I've only packed two pairs of shoes, and somehow, I am ok with that.

Motherland, here I come!

My stint as "probationary employee" for the UT System is coming to an end, ducklings, and I'm taking that as a sign to cash in my meager accrual of vacation and sick days and head to Poland for a couple of weeks.

BK, as you may or may not know, informed me the other night that he has out of town depositions to take 3 out of 4 weeks of every month of 2005 until December. He has, however, graciously agreed to join me in Warsaw during an off-week in late April. I'll believe it when he actually buys a ticket, but here's hoping!

In other news from the BK Works Hard for the Money case files, I asked him the other night when he planned to stop going out of town in case the baby was early. He just kind of stared at me. *blink, blink*

Hm.

Next time we fly direct

Before I delve into the many delights that was Christmas with the Stanimal, I just have to say that I've been up for 13 hours. AND IT'S ONLY 3:30!!! Our flight from Toronto was at 6:15 this morning (Priceline, natch), so we hauled our butts out of bed at 3:25 a.m. Eastern time. We checked in at the airport, no problem, and then sat in line for 45 minutes waiting for US Customs to open at 5:00 a.m. We got on the plane, and learned it was apparently being used as a cannibalistic crockpot, cause I swear to baby jesus that it got so fucking hot in there before we started moving that I was about to start weeping. We had to wait for people clearing customs late, taxied to the runway, taxied back to be de-iced, taxied BACK to the runway, and took off an hour late. Thank god I don't carry a concealed weapon because if I had one I would have shot the man behind us squaw in the middle of his forehead. The fucker would not. shut. up. His gravelly, Pittsburgh-accented hamburgery voice CLAWED at my brain until he finally fell asleep and started snoring. Actually, I shouldn't say "snoring" as it was more like "waking the dead." FINALLY we arrived in Pittsburgh and hauled ass to our connecting flight that was about to leave. The whole time we're powerwalking to the terminal I'm all, "Our luggage isn't going to make it, our luggage isn't going to make it." Luckily, WE make it but then sat on the plane for 30 minutes waiting for people who were checked in but stuck in the security line. Every time one would appear he would be half-trotting, looking a little sweaty and worse for the wear from the jog across the terminal, blotting at the Christmas turkey grease that was beading up on his forehead. The flight to Dallas was relatively painless, and three hours later we're standing in the middle of the circus that is U.S. Airways baggage claim. Round and round goes the conveyor belt, with no sign of our bags. I gave up ten seconds after the belt stopped moving and left BK standing there with all the other chumps who were gazing hopefully into the luggage maw. FOOLS! I knew the belt wasn't going to start up again. So I parked myself in the lost luggage line and was rewarded with the knowledge that our bags indeed did not make it on the plane to DFW. So we filed all the paperwork and went to go stand outside to wait for the EXPRESS parking van. EXPRESS. Well, apparently EXPRESS does not mean what we all think it means because we stood there at the curb for thrity minutes while FIVE Express North parking vans went by and THREE remote parking buses came and went before an Express South showed up. We finally made it to the car and started driving home, absolutely exhausted and starving. We decided we're going to stop at Schlotzsky's for lunch, oh-wonderous spiced meat delights, and as we exit and pull up we realize that

THE SCHLOTZSKY'S HAS BEEN CLOSED DOWN.

Though the despair did cause us to consider walking into I-35 oncoming traffic just to make this day go away, we instead settled on a burger and came home. And then BK repacked and left for DFW again. He's got a business trip in New Orleans, don'cha know.