"Play it cool and saranwrap all you can"

bluemoonmermaid @ 2009-12-02T20:42:00

2009-12-03T01:41:36Z

I was listening to (a slightly old) episode of All Songs Considered today and they were whining about the shuffle feature and how it breaks up the album. I won't argue, but I hear a lot of people whining about that so I'm fairly hardened to it. Anyway they were complaing that it might cause you to hear songs back to back that should never have been heard in succession (their example was going from Randy Newman's "Political Science" to Minute Men's "Fear is the Life of You") and this, they thought, was really disturbing.

Lately, because of several long car trips, I've been putting things like pieces of stand up acts and David Sedaris stories on my ipod. Since they are considered songs, they get thrown in.
I just had my shuffle give me THIS to THIS to THIS to THIS.

Eesh.

Start wearing purple...

2009-11-18T23:56:22Z

I HAVE GOGOL BORDELLO TICKETS FOR NEW YEARS EVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

it's just a matter of time

What is in Kara's house other than kitties and cephalopods?

2009-11-17T03:54:10Z

Not much, besides curry and jars of half-eaten Nutella that I've left there. Luckily those are all awesome things.

Cat

Cephalopod

Cat

Cephalpod

Cephalpod

Kara making pumpkin curry soup

hats, scarves, scones, loaves, t shirts, stone sculptures, jewelry, and a few other things to be found at our table in the craft fair

just one of my blisters from stirring up 4 batches of scones with a fork.

cupcake glued into a bottle cap with glitter (from the table beside us)

Food City parking lot sunset

my mermaid pancake

Kara wearing her sculpty horn hairband

What do hippies like more than tie-dye and trees on a t-shirt? Nothing. Too bad I only made one.

hm, more cephalopods

the hat Kara spent most of the craft fair making for me

Jack's Grill (from the Cootie Brown's people) with Sarah

and finally...

the elusive Snow Cream ice cream

</a>

bluemoonmermaid @ 2009-11-03T20:39:00

2009-11-04T01:38:39Z

Bibby and I went to the Haunted Trail Walk in Scottsville on Friday, hoping to recapture this experience from 2005.
Since it was Scottsville (a tiny, creepily cheerful block of buldings with the-middle-of-nowhere on both sides) we didn't hold a lot of hope, and spent Friday afternoon imagining that an insane serial killer dressed up as one of the zombies on the trail and began killing people. It didn't help much. The trail was 3 miles outside Scottsville in the woods, and there was a trail that looped around starting and ending at an old graveyard covered half with real graves and half with styrofoam ones. Mostly you walked through the woods in the dark, and people dressed up like zombies would jump out and scream at you. There were a couple mad doctors "eating" people's breains, a girl lying in a bath of intestines, and an outhouse that a zombie with a chainsaw burst out of. He ran toward us with the chainsaw, but I can't hear a chainsaw without breaking into a run, so I didn't see what happened after that. The scariest part was the number of times I nearly grabbed a nearby redneck guy at the sound of zombies screaming. The trail ended with our zombie slayer guide getting taken by zombies.
But the night got gorier.
On the way home we rounded a corner in the woods to find a large siamese cat sitting in the middle of the road. Having handled hundreds of claims where the driver said "Well there was a cat/groundhog/squirrel/dog/deer/moose/elk/horse/cow/chicken/crow in the road and I didn't want to hurt it so I swerved, and that's when I flipped my car" I knew better than the swerve. I tried the veer slightly so as to straddle the cat (and hope it had the sense to duck) but it bolted right as I got to it and I ran right over it. Bibby and I debated about going back, but realized that the nearest vet was 45 minutes away in Charlottesville and we had already seen more intestines than we had wanted to that night. We consoled ourselves with the knowledge that it probably died quickly, and that siamese are a hateful breed.
We were so depressed when we got back to Charlottesville that we went for a hefeweizen at Applebee's. We and a group of guys in their 20s and 30s were the only people at the bar, and they watched had us spend an hour and a half drinking 1 beer they decided to buy us jagerbombs (which I have never had and, God willing, will never have again).
"What should we toast to?" They asked.
"Can we toast to the cat we killed on the way over?" I asked.
Everyone stared at me and after a moment of silence Bibby quickly explained that it was an accident. Everyone drank their drink, but as if they felt that I should pay for my drink in insults, the whole group of them started asking me questions like,
"Were you asleep?"
"Were you aiming for it?"
"Did you go back and try to help it?"
"Did you actually kill it or just maim it?"
Things actually got worse when a girl who had not only been on the trail that night but had actually been in our group AND recognized us even though it had been pitch black out there, came in and knew the group and said "hey I just saw you guys in Scottsville!"
They immediately asked her if she had seen a cat in the road. "Oh yeah," She said, "It was just sitting in the middle of the road. We went around it."
"How did you get around it?" I asked her. "We ran right into it."
"It's called steering." one of the guys said.

just sick

2009-08-14T13:17:03Z

Yesterday my manager saw the Jump to Conclusions board on my wall and asked what it was. When I told her it was from Office Space, she said "Oh yes- I watched that in business class!" She then went on to tell me that, as part of one of her final exams, the class had had to watch Office Space all the way through and then, using quotes and examples from the movie, illustrate different types of business theory.
ack! ack! Who would do such a thing??

bluemoonmermaid @ 2009-07-19T19:46:00

2009-07-19T23:46:57Z

I went to see Harry Potter with Andrew and Bryan today and Bryan said when one of his friend first read this paticular Harry Potter book (the day after it had been released) he wrote the major spoiler at the end of the book on the hood of his car and drove around town. In addition to the random vandalism he received to the car from people who had not finished the book, he apparently returned to his car at one point in the day to find a dent on his fender in the shape of a broomstick.

bluemoonmermaid @ 2009-05-29T23:11:00

2009-05-30T03:11:36Z

I just got a bill for a loan I have through King College.

2 PROBLEMS:

1. They now have a website where I can pay online. NOW. After they have been losing the checks I've been mailing them for the past 5 AND A HALF YEARS.

2. My remaining loan balance is $38.19. My minimum payment due is $60

Thanks King. It's been real.

bluemoonmermaid @ 2009-05-06T22:39:00

2009-05-07T02:39:23Z

Kara, her daughter, and Z all came this weekend to hang out, go to Montpelier Wine Festival and do whatever Z did at the library for 10 hours.

At the wine festival we mostly tried the bizzare wines: Hot (HOT HOT) Pepper wine, Blueberry Muffin, Chilli Cheese "Dawg" (lick the cheese whiz the winery reps spray on your hand, take a sip of chilli dog wine, lick the cheese again) and Pomgranate from Peaks of Otter, Chocolate wine from Cooper Vineyards and wine from Stone Mountain that no one could remember the name of, but which everyone referred to as the "Pizza wine".

What is this, Richmond?

2009-03-27T01:38:35Z

Like most neighborhoods in Charlottesville, my neighborhood is 30% redneck whackjobs, 30% rich white jerks, 30% rich white uva students (the latter not being followed with the term"jerk" to avoid repitition) and 10% whatever Andrew and I are.
This might cause a little tension, but tell me why, since I have move in here less than a year ago, we have had:

-our next door neighbors firing shotguns at our house in the middle of the day
-a police bust in the cul-de-sac by our house of who knows what or whom
-a complete shut down of our road due to 3 police cars, an ambulance, a fire truck and 2 police vans and a complete search of a house across the street

and now, for the last few days, a man that parks his mini van across our driveway BLOCKING IT and selling shoes out of his trunk.
Keith went down to him tonight and said "hey, do you mind not blocking my girlfriend's driveway? her housemates are coming home soon".
The man apparently felt that it was rude of us to ask him not to block our driveway and said something like "hey man- chillax! I'll leave in a little while after this guy finds the right pair of loafers."

My neighbors did come home, and said they will be calling the police the next time he comes over (which will be tomorrow, from the look of it). Which is awesome b/c the police are
A. jerks themselves
B. won't do anything but make the shoe guy mad
C. a pissed off shoe guy will then come back and join our next door neighbors in shooting up our house.

At least we aren't as trashy as Richmond (yet).

More Insurance Textbook Wisdom

2009-03-20T00:48:18Z

"Regardless of the extent of the loss, the adjuster must be able to articulate where the fire originated (known as the origin) and what caused the fire (known as the cause)."

are you freaking kidding me?

bluemoonmermaid @ 2009-03-18T22:07:00

2009-03-19T02:07:40Z

Travel writing story# 3 - Ireland, you piece of crap

“Where can we get dingleberry pie?” Matt asked us.
I was sitting with Sarah and a group of Canadians in John Berry's pub, overlooking the bay of Corca Dhuibhne. One of the Canadians, Michelle (the bossiest one) choked on her Guiness.
“Do you not know what that is?” she barked.
“Yes,” Matt said slowly, as if talking to an incredible idiot. “They're pies made of berries...from Dingle.” Michelle grunted and turned back to arguing with another Canadian about buying local grocercies.
Sarah glared into her prawn cocktail. Jerk boy I could hear her thinking.
Gap adventure tours had sent us Matt instead of a real guide to lead us through the Dingle Peninsula. He bragged that he had charmed his way intoGap from a management position in Abercrombie & Fitch, and when he had been promoted to a high enough rank he demanded to be made a tour leader. For reasons no one was sure of, he asked to be sent to lead groups in Ireland, on the active tours. Matt hated the Irish. He disdained their history, and felt their wet mountain countryside was designed only to show how fast he could complete a 35 mile bike ride.
“What's that blown up place?” Sarah might ask, pointing to Minard Castle - a crumbling fortress blown up by Cromwell in the 1650s.
“Oh some castle.” Matt said, pedalling quickly to regain the head of the group. When Esther, a shy Korean woman, approached him in the Irish heritage musuem to show him a postcard she had brought with her from home depicting the ruins of Dunbeg Fort. She told him she had come to Ireland to see just this. Matt glanced at the photo and went back to his blackberry.
“Oh yeah.” He said “I'll see if we can find you some of those.”
“When do you think?” Esther asked timidly.
“That depends- how long are you planning to take in here?”
For months before going to Ireland I had written lists:
1.Eat prawn
2.see Fungie the Dingle dolphin
3.Avoid black pudding
4.Climb Mount Brandon
“You guys don't want to see Mount Brandon.” Matt whined. “It's so foggy and rainy- you won't see anything.” John, the eldest and the only Austrailian in the group was undetered.
“There's a trail up there right? Just give us a map and we'll go by ourselves.” Matt's
speech started slowing down again.
“There is a trail.....but you can't physically....see it.” No one knew what to say.
Not on my list was: XX. have Dublin airport lose all your luggage. Without that part of the list being planned, I had trouble making up for the other parts of the list that went along with it:
1. climb rocky mountains in track shoes
2. have wet clothes from the constant rain that never dry
3. get sick by day 3
Matt seemed surprised when I asked him how to contact the airport.
"Why? They'll bring you your stuff if they find it."
I pointed out that they only had he information for the first hotel and we were leaving for Cloghane
the next day. Matt sighed.
"Ok, I'll leave a note for you with all the information later."
That afternoon I returned from a blissfully dry and warm bus tour to find a note.
"Marilyn,
I called the airport. They said they don't have your luggage but they might find
it later. If they haven't found it by now they probably won't at all.
You should buy some new clothes. C U later!"
"He wrote it with the letters 'C' and 'U'!" I complained to Sarah.
"He's like a 13 year old girl."
"I hate that jerk boy." Sarah said.
Our bus driver, Danny Boy, hated him too.
“Tha man is feh the birds.” He said, after Matt had stomped off from a routine argument with the transportation staff.
“He must be drunk from breakfast. I hadn't heard their whole conversation before getting into the bus, just the part where Matt had said
“I don't think you are understanding what I've been telling you...yesterday....and today...
. at least three times.”
“I'll teach ye sem Gaelic feh that goid of yers.” Danny told us. “tell him 'pog mah hone'.”
“What is that?” we asked.
“Kees meh'arse.” He said. Matt met us after the tour at a pizza shop.
“What's that garlic bread like?” he said, reaching for Sarah's plate. Esther held up a piece to him at the s ame time. Matt took Sarah's slice.
“I'm sorry.” He said to Sarah, “I just feel more comfortable with your germs.” Then he paused.
“Wow,” he giggled, “Did I really say that?”
“Yeah,” Sarah said grimly. “You did.”
John poked all the people around him.
“Pog mahone eh guys?”

</a>

bluemoonmermaid @ 2009-03-16T23:26:00

2009-03-17T03:26:42Z

My small group leaders from church are supposed to be out of town this week, and just sent this email with instructions for all:

CL and I are going to head out of town to see her brother and family. Buckners, would you be up for hosting? Dawn would you be up for leading the Romans discussion and being the time keeper? Shirley, would you please lead prayer for one another? Madeleine, would you bring some cool shoes?

sweet.

bluemoonmermaid @ 2009-03-16T21:45:00

2009-03-17T01:45:28Z

Travel writing story #2 - 500 word advertisement for Roatan Island...

The price you pay to visit Roatan is the ferry ride from the coast of Honduras to the milky cerulean coast of its largest bay island. Nicknamed “The Vomit Comet” by smirking locals, the ride takes 45 minutes and comes with a suggested dose of Dramamine. The man in front of me at the ticket booth refuses the small packet.
“I've been on a cruise before.” He says haughtily.
I make a note of his face and promise myself I'll sit on the other side of the ship. I take the pack he refused, then mine. Then I request a third for the road.
The lazy island arrival into Dixon Cove begins with a series of shipwrecks. Flung half-submerged just off the coast, spattered with oranges layers of rust, the remains are dramatic and mysterious, made more so as the stories behind them remain elusive. The ferry disembarks and passengers wobble ashore, green from the motion or pink from an antiemetic-induced nap in the Caribbean sun.
Once on the steady ground, the Roatan mindset settles in immediately and finds you using phrases like “my island life” before you even reach your hotel room. By the next morning the anchored cruise ship parked on the ritzier size of the island will have you complaining about your fellow travelers.
“Ugh,” you say over your plate of conch fritters, “tourists.”
Roatan's motto, if their T-shirt shops are to be believed, is “Live and Let Dive.” Unless you plan on missing half the island, you had better take them seriously. Off the shore of Roatan is the second largest barrier reef in the world, behind The Great Barrier reef of Australia, and diving, or at least snokelling, is essentially required. Lemon-colored fish float lanquidly by your mask, ignoring the ominous moray eel. An arrow crab picks its way across a large green-gray brain coral and a long fat fish spotted with yellow, red and blue shoots suddenly into small an opening hidden by deep sea ferns.
Multi-tasking is another requirement in Roatan. You might sip a coconut daquari while simultameously watching the sun set, declining the fat joint offered by a man in the bushes, and listening to Garifuna music seeping through the story of your grizzled expatriate neighbor.
“I've held that crystal skull from the Indiana Jones movie in my hands.” he tells you excitedly. “But I can't tell you how the real one was made. You would shit yourself.”
When it comes time to board the ferry deck for the voyage home, you slip reluctantly into your seat, slick all over from the morning sunbath, sleepily curious if a fourth Dramamine is in order. The deck hands finish spraying the sick off the rear of the boat and the ferry vibrates past the creaking sheets of ship wreck metal towards the mainland.

</a>

bluemoonmermaid @ 2009-03-12T22:17:00

2009-03-13T02:17:56Z

My trainer and I got a call today in the medical unit from a man who said his wife had strained her back and was going to the choir-practor for treatment.
Then we asked him about the passenger in his wife's car and he said
"yeah, that's George." My trainer asked him if George was a relative.
"Hold on." the guy said "Honey! What relation is George to me?"
He came back and said "He's m'nephew."
After a few minutes George, being injured, came up in the conversation again and my trainer tried to verify George's address. Finding it the same as the insured's she asked
him if George was a household resident. The man paused for a minute, then said,
"Yeah...he's engaged...to my...daughter."
My trainer, having not had a very interesting day, asked to speak with the wife, since she technically was the injured party, and verified George's status again.
"Yeah, he's my nephew." The man's wife said, "but he's not engaged to my daughter. They just have some kids together."
Unfortunately for George, he was also there and, being injured too, we asked to speak with him. My trainer couldn't resist verifying the status once more.
"We're married." George told us of he and the daughter. "But I'm trying to go to Georgia and get a job with a carwash."

bluemoonmermaid @ 2009-03-11T22:40:00

2009-03-12T02:40:42Z

travel writing Story #1 - Horseback riding with Charlie Izquierdo

Poblano stepped tip-hoof down the rocky slope, cursing me with every step. He was fatter than most of the horses we'd seen stomping miserably in Copan - their sides wavy from rib bones just barely holding up their skin. Even the chickens were skinny.
I braced myself for a fall, and for lemonade poisoning that comes from drinking juice mixed with The Water.
“That's why I only drank half mine.” Sarah sniffed.
My glass was drained, and I probably licked the ice cubes. The Water ice cubes. Our horse walk guide guide shuffled in front of us, holding his hat in his mouth while he slicked back his hair into a ponytail. The hat obscured the “Fuckin'” part of his shirt, making it look like his shirt was trying to make itself decent. Now it said only “N....York…ckin' City”. I had seen him leaning back against the hotel building earlier that afternoon, when we came for our tour. His hat was pulled down to his nose and his mouth was scowling. The town of Copan had had a political rally that morning and soldiers with guns as tall as me had been stalking around. We had hidden in our hotel until noon when, drawn out by the $40 we had paid the day before, we snuck carefully across the plaza to another hotel lobby.
“Did you see that guy's shirt?” Sarah whispered after we passed the boy.
The hotel lobby was clean and white, with marble floors and pale pink wicker chairs. We asked when our guide would meet us. The receptionist pointed to scowling boy slumped outside.
“He's already here waiting for you!” She said cheerfully.
“Hola...” I said, unsure of how to say “horse” or tour”.
“Tour?” He asked.
“Si, tour.”
We followed him to a small yard just outside the Copan streets and struggled up onto the horses.
Sarah, unnerved by the shirt, trotted ahead.
“Que es el nombre de....” I patted the horse.
“Poblano”. The boy said. I struggled to remember what this meant while he swalked wearily towards the shade of the banana leaves. Was it banana?
When I asked the boy his name he called back
“C*%^$# I&*^krdo.”
“What did he say it was?” Sarah asked quietly, when he'd stumbled out of ear shot.
“I think he said it was Izquierdo.”
“That's 'left' in Spanish, Madeleine.” Sarah sighed.
There were corn silk flowers dyed pink, crispy and frozen in my hair, in my shirt and poking out of my backpack. They were bound together with twine and fanned out into sprawling petals at the top.
We had stopped earlier at the top of the slope by a large tree cast over a small tear drop shaped plot of grass.. There was an orange yellow building just beyond the fence, sitting several yards lower and overlooking the valley. I slid slowly off the horse as a group of 8 year-olds surrounded the horses and Sarah and I with their arms full of flowers.
“Diez!” they chanted together, waving the stiff flora. “Diez, diez, diez.”
I didn't know how to say “please keep away from me, I don't like children” in Spanish, so I struggled along, walking rigidly like an old woman with a wide skirt made of little girls spinning around her.
“Diez, diez.” I said wearily to the group.
“Diez!” They replied cheerfully.
The yard was green but mostly eaten bare, and half closed-off by a gray wooden fence. The was soft mud rolling up between the sparse vegetation and the air was heavy and fetid from the heat and the oozing piles of manure melting into the grass. The yellow building was a restaurant, a house, a market for the art school students.
“They make all flowers at art school.” Izquierdo told us.
The house walls were bright, lumpy and full of round windows. A snarl of vines poured down from the roof and hid most of the valley view from the terrace. We bought flowers from each girl and they stopped chanting long enough to tie the them into my hair. Across the round stone table Sarah's flowers stood up straight like antennae from behind her braids.
A dusty walkway flowed in a circle around the restaurant, lined by a row of bushes, fencing off a drop in the valley towards the ruins. A small wind needled its way through the vines, barely lifting the heat from my back and head.
“Lemonade?” the girls invited.
“Um...si.” I said “cuanto.....cuest...a?”
“Diez.” the tallest girl said, running back to report the order.
Izquierdo flopped onto his back on the stone floor and fell asleep beside his coke bottle. The heat silenced everything and even the children were lying limp against the sides of the terrace. I emptied my glass lemonade and caught Sarah looking at me with a grimace.
“The water.” She mouthed. My stomach cramped and I imagined myself hunched over a toilet, wishing I'd never come to Honduras.
This will ruin my whole trip. I thought. I just drank poision lemonade.

</a>

bluemoonmermaid @ 2009-03-02T20:21:00

2009-03-03T01:21:45Z

Studying insurance is in many ways similar to smashing your face in with a large brick. For instance, my textbook spent the better part of a page describing to me what fire is. Not only that, I had to define "Fire" and answer
a few review questions about it, presumably to make sure I fully understand the concept. And look! Now I need to describe the difference between "Hostile fire" and "Friendly fire". I may need to cheat on the end of the chapter test. Right after I slit my own throat.

bluemoonmermaid @ 2009-02-22T22:16:00

2009-02-23T03:16:23Z

how dramatic movies get made in England:

"We've got a dramatic script here....yeah it's really tortured....brooding....doomed love affair...ends in death. Yeah it's great, but by British law we can't make it until Ralph Fiennes signs on.....ok, good- we'll call him tomorrow."

Ireland

2009-02-03T01:53:31Z

So this week on CNN.com they are inviting people to share stories from Ireland.
Now maybe time does heal all grudges because I went from

this

from when I first arrived back from Ireland, to

this

remarkably restrained sentence I just posted on iReport.

maybe all that Carribean sun in Honduras burned away some of my resentment.

bluemoonmermaid @ 2009-01-07T22:11:00

2009-01-08T03:11:39Z

I just signed up for another writing class, like a masochist. I hate English majors! I hate writers! Being around them makes my skin crawl! The last time I took a writing class a woman told me I hadn't moved on from my life in Asheville and I should have spent more time saying goodbye to the trees and giving them permission to change! Why why why why! I don't care if other people read my writing, I don't want anything published, I'm just too lazy to write an essay unless I'm motivated by class assignments or revenge. This class said it was about travel writing so I thought maybe it would help me process my last couple trips more clearly. I wrote journals on my trips but the Peru journal was me trying to write by campfire light about how exhausted I was, and my Ireland journal was literally all cursing and swearing.
Anyway, when I read the description of the class (AFTER I signed up for it), it said:
Explores the art of seeing, sensing, and writing about places and people. Includes the use of descriptive detail, painting a vivid atmosphere, and bringing significant people, neighborhoods, and communities to life.
*&$%^&^*!!!!!
Sounds like more talk-to-your-trees conversations are in store for me.

Break out the S'mores Schnapps

2008-11-25T04:36:04Z

It was re-enactment time so we went to Gettysburg. Andrew and dad were confederates this time (dad was a yankee for awhile, but the ghosts of my two great-great-great confederate uncles visited him in a dream and he doesn't do that anymore).
We also visited Harper's Ferry which, without even trying, was weirder than anything in Gettysburg, including the lame ghost walk and the intersection where the two Robert E Lees met in the parade. It was horribly cold, snowy and windy, and more than once I envied Jennie Wade.

creepy Harper's Ferry, made famous by John Brown (who, as Andrew explained, was an abolitionist confederate. Right.)

Dad said this would be one of the last things my great great great uncle Alex saw. I thought he meant Alex died, but actually he just got shot in the face and blinded.

soldiers running toward the graveyard for Lincoln's address

Luminaries

cheerful family portrait

town of Harper's Ferry

</a>

Elliott, I'm a story-topper. You KNOW this about me.

2008-11-19T04:37:47Z

Me-

I handled a claim today where a woman thought Steven Spielberg was trying to kill her by putting anthrax in her car.

Andrew-

oh yeah? I handled a claim today where the person's thermostat caught on fire, and they couldn't figure out how it started until they opened the wall and found frayed wires and a bunch of charred cockroaches. Turns out the wires sparked and set the cockroaches on fire which burnt the house.

Me-

oh really? I handled a claim where an animal died inside someone's engine and rotted, and they couldn't do any repairs until the exterminator came because front door was filled with maggot larvae.

Andrew-

uh......Sam told me yesterday that when a rodent crawls into a bee hive the bees all beat their wings really fast until the hive reaches 116 degrees. Which kills the rodent. But if they get to 119 degrees the bees will die too.

Me-

I guess you win.

Oddly enough this last time we had a conversation like this the Comcast guy was installing our internet and gave us free cable. That was probably a coincidence.

bluemoonmermaid @ 2008-10-30T23:50:00

2008-10-31T03:50:05Z

So Keith and I were at Fellini's #9 for Thursday night antipasti and there was big group of people in the booth behind us. I didn't really notice until they stood up and one of the people was Sissy Spacek. I glanced at her and then tried not to look at her again. After they let the waiter came over and we had this conversation:

Waiter: "I didn't want to say before when they were here, but did you see-
Me: Sissy Spacek??!!!
Waiter: Actually I was going to say Jane Fonda
Me: Her too?
Waiter (to Keith): yeah- now you can say you've sat 10 inches away from Jane Fonda!
Keith: I don't really know who that is
Me: What about Sissy Spacek?
Keith: nope.
Waiter: well...tell your mother then.

Keith- we missed a perfect opportunity to sing that Mickey Avalon song.

bluemoonmermaid @ 2008-10-27T21:30:00

2008-10-28T01:30:37Z

Today we had an auto claim where some poor sap hit a deer in his car but didn't quite kill it. Instead of letting natural selection take its course, he loaded the deer into his backseat and started down the road to an animal hospital. After driving for a few minutes, the deer revived and kicked out the back windows and then started kicking Sap boy in the head. The guy pulled over, got out, let the deer out, the deer then ran in front of another car that hit it. Then that car got rear-ended.

I wasn't there, so I'm not sure exactly what the scene was like, but except for the last part, I imagine it went a lot like this

bluemoonmermaid @ 2008-10-04T01:28:00

2008-10-04T05:28:39Z

from now on, when you see the commercials for lawyers that will get you the injury settlement you deserve, think about this:

jon, one of my friends at work, called claimant (what we call a third party in an auto accident) to ask her about what had happened in her accident. she was in her 20s, and jon said she was fairly dull to begin with, and had trouble answering questions like "which way were you turning" or "what color traffic light did you have" (this might sound insensitive, but it was a fairly minor accident- it wasn't like she was thrown from the car and blacked out- most people can remember at least the basics of what happened). anyway, when he asked her if she was injured, which is a question we have to ask everyone, she put her phone over the mouth piece, and jon heard her say "hey dad- was i injured?" i don't know what her father said, but it must have been non-committal because she said she would let us know.
less than 5 minutes later the girl's mother called back and began listing off injuries her daughter sustained in the accident. nice.

trip batch#4

2008-09-06T02:04:56Z

and finally...

It was a throw-away waterproof camera, so I guess that's why the quality is so bad.

If you're wondering why all you can see of most of the fish are their tails, it's because I was diving down to the bottom and trying to chase them while taking their pictures.

</a>