The South Pole: Haven of Technology, Utilities, and Smartypants-es.

You might be thinking, "Wait--the South Pole?  Isn't that Antarctica?  Nobody lives there."  That's what I thought, too, until I met an Antarctican. 

Let me start at the beginning.  I took a late lunch with a friend to catch the second half of the Germany v. Turkey semi-final in the Euro 2008.  After the match, everyone rushed to the front to pay their tabs and some Eastern European/Russian/Slavic guy neither one of us had ever seen began chatting with us.  He wanted to know where I got my shoes because he wanted to get something like them for his girlfriend (See?  Even men love Lord Byron and Mr. Rochester--they're that awesome).  

As we were starting to take our leave he asked our names and if we were on facebook.  My friend told the truth and I lied, as I always do in these situations.  Giving out personal information is not something I do at the drop of a hat and I am not going to add someone I met once for 5 minutes to my facebook but I didn't want to hurt his feelings.  However, he also asked about e-mail.  Great.  Now what was I supposed to say?  Everyone has email.  I panicked and said I don't have it so then he knew I was lying and asked if I have internet.  I said no except that it was only a half lie because at home I really don't have internet or cable or anything.  He didn't believe me and joked that I must live in the stone age but otherwise let it pass. 

After writing down my friend's name for facebook she asked where he was from.  "Antarctica," he said.  "You know, the South Pole?  But we do have running water, electricity, and internet down there."  Aha.  "Revenge is sweet," his expression said, so I just grinned and left it alone. 

The Slaughter of Shelob

I knew it!  I knew that spider got away! 

When I got to my car after work yesterday I tentatively opened the driver's side door and peered all around in the car in search of Shelob the Spider.  Nothing...until I opened the passenger side door and was face-to-face with a completed spider web.  The big, fancy, roundish kind, not just a stray wisp or two.  So where was Shelob?  Nervously I opened the rear passenger door and there she sat on the floor.  She turned around to face me, lifting the front part of her body.  I stared at her in horror.  She stared back.  I reached for my shoe and she ran into a crack between the back seat and the floor and was gone, leaving me no choice but to drive home with her.  It was the longest drive, ever. 

Later, a friend came over and offered to help me get rid of Shelob.  She is moderately less afraid of spiders than I am but it still took no less than half an hour to be rid of the beast.  I will not relate the details of this feat but we were definitely poised like Frodo and Sam except we had Kleenex and pens instead of little swords.  I think our battle with Shelob lasted longer, too.  Now that she's dead, I can look into replacing my windshield.  There would have been little point in doing it when Shelob was likely to be running freely back and forth on it. 

Awww....crap.

It has been fairly well-documented on this site that I am pretty wimpy in regards to any sort of interaction with spiders.  Today was yet another great example of this. 

The saga really started on Saturday when I was loading the trunk of my car for a short trip to a wedding in a nearby city.  I jumped back as a large black spider with white stripes ran underneath some tubing that went into my tail light.  "Forget the trunk, " I thought, shoving my stuff into the backseat.  "I'm not using it again until the lifespan of a spider is past." 

Well, spiders are clever and this one found its way into my part of the car.  Fortunately, I did not see it while I was driving or I would probably be dead now.  After I put my car in park at work, a spider--no the spider--ran partway up the windshield directly in front of me.  Maybe it didn't want to block my vision while I was driving but was getting really hot from the sun on the dashboard so it had to get moving the instant the car stopped instead of waiting until I was gone.  Naturally, I threw open the car door, yanked off my shoe and tried to smash it.  I missed the spider but I was quite successful in smashing the windshield. 

Now I have a broken windshield and a spider loose in my car.  Anyone know if insurance companies replace windshields smashed by the owner in self-defense?  More importantly, anyone know a good way to flush out a spider from its hiding place in the car? 

The Signs Don't Lie

Driving along a two lane highway in a rural part of the state on the way to visit my sister, I passed through a small town at dusk.  Upon reaching the edge of this town, I noticed a sign that said BRIDGE OUT.  "Oh, I'm sure they don't mean it," I thought and drove on.  Well, they did mean it and I had to come to a halt in front of the bridgeless ditch/creek/stream.

What should I do?  Take one of the gravel roads with the assumption that they are laid out in the usual grid pattern and I could just go around the mile line?  Take a different highway?  I decided to ask the (hopefully) friendly locals back at Gambino's Pizza what the best route would be.  The Gambino's employees seemed very nice and told me to take the gravel road like I originally thought.  However, by the time I once again reached the nonexistent bridge, it was getting very dark and I was very nervous.  What if they only seemed nice, when they were actually sending me off in the direction of Psycho Hermit Man or something?  Suddenly, to my left, I caught a faint glimmer of something--no--several somethings! lined up.  I peered through the dark and realized it was a junkyard for old cars.  Or were they the cars of visitors who were foolish enough to leave the highway?  I sped up.  Then a large truck started following me and stayed close behind me for at least two miles.  I locked my doors.  Just as I was starting to get paranoid (I wasn't before, as you see) I saw the highway and was soon driving along to my sister's house. 

The lesson in this story is that people do not put up Bridge Out signs for fun.  That is all. 

Agony!

Since I have demonstrated considerable self-restraint by not mentioning my beloved Chelsea Football Club for several months, I am going to use writing (and by writing I mean copying and pasting) as therapy for the anguish I am suffering from Chelsea's loss yesterday at the hands of Manchester United.  Curse Man U, they always stifle my dreams.  Last year it was the Premiership title and this year it was the Champions' League final.  Compounding the pain, Chelsea dominated the game this year but it went to penalties and that's mostly luck.  Additionally, it was the first time two English clubs have ever faced each other in the final of the Champions' League.  What a match to win!  All right, all right, Man U didn't lose a game the entire season so I suppose they deserved to win too, but whatever.  It should have been Chelsea's.  If Didier Drogba's shot would have gone in instead of grazing the post it wouldn't have gone to overtime.  If Frank Lampard's second shot would have gone in like the first, if John Terry's foot hadn't slipped when he took his shot it would have gone in because the goalkeeper dove the wrong way.  If, if, if.  Incidentally, sorry I'm so inept at adding pictures to my posts.  They're always gigantic.  Oh well, adds to the drama, I guess. 

Here's something hilarious (from a couple of years ago).  Sorry--I only know how to put in links.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P0wYbttU32I

This cheers me up.  Can I also just say that it's way too easy to waste a ton of time browsing stupid YouTube? I had no idea. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TMMvky9paI0

And now that I've got that out of my system I won't mention Chelsea again for at least a few months.