I’m just going to go on the record and say I hate our fucking news people.
They’ve built this whole culture around this Chicken Little / Boy that cried wolf frame of mind.
I’m sick of it.
I know—Irene sucked in parts of the country, and not so much in my neck of the woods. I get that we were very lucky. I also get that people need to be prepared for what may happen… but there’s a line that got crossed.
Other parts of the country get Cat 4s. We had a tropical storm by the time it hit the New Hampshire seacoast. We’ve had worse windstorms in the past few years, and I don’t remember this whole DRAMA before the storm hit. If I remember correctly, it took us by surprise.
The media hits the panic button too soon. Maybe that’s what some people need…
Tell me there’s a hurricane coming and I will do what I need to. Telling me it’s THE. WORST. STORM. IN. FOREVER. isn’t going to change my preparations. A hurricane is a pretty severe threat, but at the end of the day, we’re subject to it’s whims. It chose not to hit Da ‘Brook, and I am thankful for that. Had it hit us, however, there would have been nothing more I could have done to protect myself from the damage. I was concerned, and rightfully so, but I didn’t need to hear the news people constantly making it sound like we needed to stick our heads between our knees and kiss our asses goodbye.
Honestly, I was more concerned about the Nuke getting destroyed and killing us than I was about a tree falling on my house or my basement getting flooded. Amazingly enough, there wasn’t a peep about the Nuke. NOT A PEEP ABOUT THE NUCLEAR POWER PLANT THAT I LIVE WITHIN A MILE OF. After what happened in Japan, I think that’s a little more important than hearing that you need to grab bottled water and a flashlight forty eleventy billion times a day. (Granted, I did get sick of listening to Chicken Little, so maybe they did say something, but by then, it was too late. I’d already grown deaf to the little boy that was crying wolf.)
I don’t know—I feel sorry for my friends who got slammed by the storm. I know I’m lucky as hell that we didn’t get touched.
But the next time a storm’s coming, I think I’ll keep the news on mute and just watch the pretty pictures instead.
I started bringing Apache to doggie day care because I need to go in a little earlier and J needs to stay a little later.
I was SO nervous about this, because, HELLO! this is APACHE we’re talking about. The anti-social little Aussie with the Napoleon complex.
He did well yesterday, but he was on his own for pretty much the whole day.
Today, they let him run with a pack…
The report from the woman who brought the dogs back to me? There’s only ONE dog in the entire day care that Apache doesn’t like.
Yup. One dog.
Guess which one?
I can’t believe that my dogs have to be separated at day care…
Is it bad that I want to google (“what is considered pr0n” & “send to troops”)?
If you’re a good friend, you might know why. If you’re not, you can keep guessing.
That clock just keeps ticking… and I’m looking to knock minutes off of it any way I can.
misha collins :: spn boscon, boston, ma :: august 7, 2011
I have so much to write about to SPN’s Boscon that it’s scary… but lately, I’m too busy reading books. Well, they’re actually torture pr0n novellas on the Kindle, but they’re GOOD torture pr0n novellas. Assuming, of course, you’re into that. I can’t watch TP, but I don’t mind reading it… I don’t know why. That damn Kindle is my best friend. I’m reading classics (found for free), equipment/software manuals, books, and TP. I actually wasn’t reading as much as I would have liked to before the Kindle came along because books are a pain in the ass. Don’t get me wrong, I love the feel of a book in my hands, and I LOVE the smell of a book - the paper, the ink, it’s like heaven - but I don’t need a thousand bookshelves anymore and I can take 15 books with me on a trip. Which actually came in handy when I couldn’t sleep during Boscon and had really bad ADHD. I think I read a few pages of each one Friday night trying to come down from the awesome karaoke party.
Work’s been really good for a long time. Hiring D was one of the best things that could have happened to my main company. I’m in a good place workload-wise. I actually feel good about taking a long weekend this weekend to do nothing. Absofreakinglutely NOTHING. We had plans, but I think the rain is going to cancel all of them. Whatever. I’m all about 4 days or torture pr0n and never putting on pants. WOOOO! Pantsless weekends rock!
Guinness is doing well… we had to invest in doggie day care for him. He’s got too much energy for us when we get home from work. Plus, I’ve been working crazy hours so that I can disappear to Boscon or take a four day weekend. It’s just mean to keep him in the crate that long. He’s a much different dog than the other two, and we’re being more careful about how we’re raising him. Apache is difficult for several reasons and some of them are our fault. We’re not going to make those mistakes again.
Facebook, in general, is annoying me. So help me god, if I see one more “repost this status” FB status message, I am driving across the country and punching each and every one of those assholes in the nose. I’m also sick of the political statuses. I don’t rub your face in my tree hugging, bleeding heart, tax and spend MA liberal nonsense, keep your conservative/Republican bullshit to yourself.
And now for my moment of zen: Chad Lindberg’s balls in Matt Cohen’s face. Yeah. You read that right. Backstory to come…
4) We’re in the parking lot, watching the rehearsals for the Air Show at Pease this weekend, and our Office Manager busts out with “I LOVE THIS SHIT!”...
5) I couldn’t string together a coherent phrase today, and I kept calling moo cards, moo cows. Joel and I had fun mooing at each other for a while.
6) Hookers and blow, bitches. Hookers and blow! \nn/