Does this make me a geek?

I love Sci Fi – not all science fiction, rather the Sci Fi channel specifically. When I was single – and therefore cable-free – I would while away my hours reading or watching network television through static or watching DVDs. Now that I am the proud mother of digital cable and TiFaux, I spend many an hour watching the Sci Fi channels fine programming – the new Battlestar Gallactica, Stargate (both SG-1 and Atlantis) and Eureka (new show – Tuesday nights!).

I’d say it’s my boyfriend’s fault that I’m addicted to these TV shows – after all, he pays the cable bill and introduced me to the shows. But, the thing is, I used to be a complete geek for shows like Sliders and Quantum Leap.

I really can’t name a favorite because each one becomes my favorite as I’m watching it. But today I’m on pins and needles waiting for 7 p.m. and the return of Jack O’Neill to the SGC for the 200th episode of Stargate SG-1. Jack Effing O’Neill! Ok, it’s just for one show, but I'm still excited. It’s not that I have a thing for Richard Dean Anderson – no – it’s just that his character brought something to the show that Ben Browder’s Cameron Mitchell – while undeniably HOT – just can’t match.

So, I won't be recording tonight's show. I'll be watching it LIVE and I can't wait. Does this make me a geek? Never mind, you don’t have to answer that. I already know.

Cranky and whiney, not clever and witty

I haven't felt witty or clever for awhile so I'm having a hard time keeping up with my goal to update this page two or three times a week. At the risk of sounding like a whiner, I've been having some health issues and fatigue is among the symptoms. Yay!

I've always had a pretty high energy level so I'm not doing well with my lowered energy level. And I am whiney and cranky and I don't like myself like this. I've tried to write something that's worth reading but it comes across as bitter and bitchy. (See the Brat Pack post.)

Another fun and fascinating thing is that I've been having semi-hallucinations -- nothing as wonderful as pink elephants. Rather, I've been seeing things wrongly. For example, I saw a peach crumble where there was actually hamburger and chilies. I saw "tomato magnet" instead of "tornado magnet" on a friend's Web site. It's funny but still a little disconcerting. Too bad I can't have a really cool hallucination where I'm sitting on a beach drinking Coronas and reading a trashy novel.

Brat Pack

Am I going to be the kind of person who yells at kids for being in my front yard? Am I already turning into the wicked witch down the street? I like kids. I really do. But, twice in a two-day period, I found myself talking sternly to children for being rude and frankly, downright stupid. I must note that their parents were nowhere to be seen.

The first incident involved a preteen girl crossing a street against the light – a busy street where the speed limit is 40 mph. Her male friends hurried to cross while she actually slowed down the closer our vehicle – a Toyota 4Runner – got to her. We actually had to stop because the light turned red but she was in the middle of the street long before the light changed. I said, through the open car window, “You know you’d lose that contest if we hit you.”

She laughed. I said, “It won’t be funny if you’re dead.” Yeah, not very clever and totally something my mom would say. (My mom used to say, “Don’t coming running to me when you break your neck.”) But it had to be said. What if we were crazed lunatics out on a bender looking for little kids to run over? It wouldn’t be the first time. Don’t you people ever watch “Cops” or “The World’s Most Amazing Police Chases”?

The second incident was at a minor league baseball game. Three boys sitting behind us were eating sunflower seeds and spitting out the shells – not just the shells but partially-eaten seeds as well. I wish I could convey here the sounds they made while spitting out the shells.
My boyfriend went to the concession stand and I noticed there was some residue on his seat from these kids spitting out seeds. I turned around and said, sternly but politely, “Please don’t spit seeds on this seat. Someone will be sitting here.”

Again with the laughing. So I said, “I’m asking nicely.”

They moved to another row up and I thought things were solved until my friend found chewed up seeds in her hair. And my boyfriend and I found seeds on the backs of our shirts. At this point two of the boys had left so I say to the sole survivor, “Please stop spitting on us.” I got a blank (possibly defiant) stare. So, I said, “I mean it.”

When I turned back around I said, “I may have to get stadium staff.” Then I got up to use the restroom. When I returned the last boy was gone. I feel like I’m a mean old lady. But, I really wasn’t out of line. Nobody wants someone else’s food in her hair. And, where were the parents?

I said it before, I like kids. I just don’t like brats and I'm not going to put up with their crap.