Archive for January, 2008

hot water heater misery

Sunday, January 20th, 2008

I like hot showers.  I mean, really hot, where the skin on my belly is pink-red when I get out.  Two degrees before blisters hot. 

If I don’t get my hot shower, my hands and feet turn blue.  For real, my body feels the lukewarm water, freaks out, and shuts off blood flow to the extremities.  I know that’s not a normal physiological response, but what can I say, my body is really quick on the draw for that hypothermia stuff.  Good thing I’m not a caveman, I never woulda survived to adulthood.

So, last winter, I discovered that my hot water heater wasn’t cutting it.  With the heat level set to ‘A’ (what does that even MEAN?  The available settings are 1, 2, 3, A, B and C) I did not get my hot morning shower.  I dreaded getting out of bed into my cold house (the husband likes to keep it at 66) just so I could jump into a shivery blue-handed shower. 

So I cranked the temperature up on the water heater, to ‘B’.  There’s a huge warning on the heater about how setting your hot water temp to more than 125 degrees could result in FIERY, BURNY DEATH for the hapless soul who turn on STRAIGHT hot water and JUMPS IN without testing it first, with, say, an expendable pinky toe.  I vaguely wondered how hot ‘B’ was, in fahrenheit degrees, but figured it didn’t matter too much since only adults and non-opposoble-thumbed animals live in my house.

That increased the temp slightly, but my hands were still blue-ish.  I came to discover that some mornings I had hot showers, while other mornings I had mostly warmish showers - and eventually correlated it with my dishwasher-running schedule.  If the dishwasher had run the night before, I got a toasty nice shower, and all was well with the world.  If not, it was blue hands for me.  Through some trial and error, I discovered that my hottest showers happened when the dishwasher ran at 3 am.  Addicted to hot showers, I would even schedule a 10-minute quick rinse cycle on no dishes days.

It would seem, though, that my last-winter’s water extravagance caused a drought in Loudoun County over the summer.  So this winter I’ve decided to not be a water waster - and instead the husband and I have turned the hot water heater up to the last notch of ‘C.’

I had a few nice mornings, with wonderfully hot showers, but this afternoon I discovered my basement full of water.  After using all 10 of our towels to mop up half the mess, the husband consulted our how-to plumbing guide - to discover that water leaking from the pressure valve can mean that you have the temperature set too high.

So that’s it for my hot showers, at least until I can get someone to come out and look at my tank.  If nothing can be repaired or adjusted, it may just be time to replace it.

murder mystery ‘08

Tuesday, January 15th, 2008

Last year, for the husband’s birthday, I threw him a murder mystery dinner party.  The theme was a ’super hero’ convention where all the guests were, well, superheroes.  There were some great costumes, some lively conversations, blatant accusations, and fervent denials.  I’d like to think a good time was had by all, and I hope to continue the tradition this year.

Last year, I purchased a murder mystery online.  They sent me a zip file with all the clues and directions for the evening.  The description for the murder mystery led me to believe it wasn’t a ’scripted’ murder mystery - one where everyone’s lines are dictated.  I had been under the impression that it was one where people were given clues, which would lead them to natural discussion and ad-libbing.  But when I started looking through the files, it became very clear to me that what I had was a script.  And a very lopsided script at that - there were 8 characters, but only 3 or 4 of them really had any lines.

And so I took that script, and I turned it into clues.  And I added elements to the story, so that the 4 people who the script neglected, would have something to do for the evening.  I finally got everything to my liking, and printed out on color-coded cards.  Everything worked out well - better than a script, if I dare say.  People took what they were given and really ran with it.

And so this year, I have decided to write my own murder mystery from scratch.  Not so much because I’m cheap - I’m more than willing to shell out $30 for a good game - but because there’s no way to know what I’m getting before I hand over the money.  I mean, if I’m going to be re-writing a sub-standard mystery, I might as well be writing my own.  That way, I don’t have to think bad things about people who packaged a poorly-made product …

So, this year’s theme will be something a little more classic.  At this point, I’m leaning toward something sort of clue-esque.  If all goes well at the party this year, I may even post it - free of charge - right here at akaemi.com

don’t even try to out-nerd me …

Monday, January 14th, 2008

I have the hugest polo collection you’ve ever seen.  Red, yellow, a couple blue ones, brown, dark gray, light gray, striped, you name it, I have it.  (Except for pink.  There’s no room for pink in my collection …)

It’s strange, how something that started out so preppy, has become an icon of nerdliness.  In my office of software-developing geeks, we all wear polos.  Having left the comfort of hoodies and t-shirts with obnoxious (but clever!) slogans behind in our college days, we have embraced the next best thing:  The polo t-shirt. 

Because, honestly, it has (almost) all the comfort of a tshirt.  But with a real collar, it has a place in the professional workplace.  Even though our managers might like to see more buttons, longer sleeves, and, well, clothing that requires ironing, the polo t-shirt is here to stay.  And I have a collection to rival the best of ‘em.

i am a grown up

Saturday, January 12th, 2008

I promise.  I mean, at 28, I’m pretty darn growed up.  I’ve been out of college longer than I was in it.  I own a home.  I’m married.  I have a career, not just a job.  If that’s not grown up, I don’t know what is.

And yet, I am often mistaken for a teenager.  When I was 22, it wasn’t so surprising, as I was only a few years out of teenage-hood.  But as I get closer and closer to 30, it throws me when someone makes the assumption that I’m 10 years younger than I am.  Like when I started a new job a few months back and people assumed I was a new intern.

At church last year, I taught the ladies’ group once a month.  It was always nerve-wracking, especially considering my youthful-looking-ness.  I mean, are ladies ranging from 20 to 65 really going to take an 18-year-old know-nothing seriously?  I think, though, it actually played to my advantage:  if I ever said anything completely preposterous, they just chalked it up to my ‘age.’

So, this year, I have been asked to teach the 8-year-old children.  I was excited at the prospect of teaching people who readily accepted my grown-upped-ness.  I mean, they’re 8 - anyone over the age of 14 is grown up to them.

Or so I thought.  After finding out where all the kids go to school, one of the boys asked me where I went to school.  I informed him that I was done with school.  High school, colllege, all in my past.  He looked at me, and decided to accept my response.  “Oh, I thought you were a teenager,” he explained.

I just can’t win!

Now, I’m not really complaining.  I mean, cuz when I’m 40, I’ll really love looking 10 years younger.  The husband will love walking around with his hot, young, trophy wife.  But right now, I wish people would take me seriously.  And, well, the husband really could do without the looks of disdain from all those lolita-haters out there …

i can quit any time …

Friday, January 11th, 2008

Yesterday, at work, while I ate peanut m&ms, it dawned on me that I can’t remember a day, in recent history, in which I didn’t eat chocolate. 

I don’t really consider myself a chocoholic.  I mean, I like chocolate.  I like it a lot.  But a chocolate addict?  Surely not.  Surely I could go one day without eating chocolate.  And on that day with no chocolate, not miss it.  Never entertain a thought of, “boy, I sure would like a Snickers.”

Growing up, I remember my mom ALWAYS having a chocolate stash in her room.  I mean a SERIOUS stash.  Usually it was a 5 pound bag of m&ms, hershey’s kisses, or hershey’s miniatures.  I did partake on occasion (sorry, mom), but I always found it a little odd that she kept chocolate in her bedroom.  A LOT of it.  ALL the time.

And then I grew up.  My true appreciation for chocolate developed during my junior year at college - I had a particularly stressful class load, and I had moved into a new place with all new roommates.  Five of them.  That’s right 6 girls in one apartment … if that’s not a recipe for disaster, I don’t know what is.  Anyway, on really stressful nights, I would make a chocolate run - for two or three candy bars and a brownie mix.  And not just any brownie mix - it had to be a 9×13 brownie mix.  I would eat one candy bar on the way home.  I would eat one while the brownies were baking.  And then I would eat half a pan of brownies.  (Making a 9×13 ensured that I got what I needed - you don’t just make brownies when you live with 5 other women and NOT expect to share.)

Thankfully, those days are behind me.  I mean, the days where I eat half a pan of brownies in a frenzied state where I just NEED to get CHOCOLATE inside of me, no matter how sick to my stomach it might be making me.  I do still have times when I really need some chocolate, but usually one candy bar will do the trick.

So - a chocoholic?  Surely not. But …. I did start my day out with a giant junior mint … (I’m serious about it’s size, it’s a two-bite mint.)  And then I had some hot cocoa at work.  No chocolate at lunch … but 3 oreos when I got home.  And, well, it’s perfectly normal to have a chocolate stash.  Isn’t it?

I’m not an addict.  I can quit any time I want …

even more pics

Monday, January 7th, 2008

I’ve put up several more pics, and tried to organize the gallery a little better.  There are still some more pics I haven’t put up yet, the husband is holding them hostage on his laptop.  Ok, so maybe not really hostage, but they aren’t on any of my machines, so I’ve put them off till last.

None of these new pics have descriptions yet, but someday I’ll get to that.  :-)

labeled gallery pics

Saturday, January 5th, 2008

Ok, so I haven’t gotten around to actually adding any more pics to my gallery - but I did go back and label the pics that are already there.  I also tried to trim the galleries, but I don’t think I was very successful at it.

And, for the husband’s family, I do know your names.  I made a conscious effort to not put names in, I instead used relationships.  (i.e., ‘the niece,’ ‘the mother-in-law,’ etc.)  I made this decision because while I don’t have a problem with my name being ‘out there’ on the ‘internet,’ I realize that not all people feel the same way.  I don’t want to make anyone feel exposed.

Using relationships in lieu of names also serves a double purpose: for people who don’t know the people in the pictures, relationships serve as a better description.  The husband’s coworkers, for example, have no idea who ‘mildred’ is or how she might connected to me - but they do understand step-great-aunt-in-law.  Er, well, maybe not that relationship, I’m not entirely sure what that one means …

dhl is the suck

Friday, January 4th, 2008

I’ve always had a little mistrust for dhl - the ups wannabes - but never had a solid reason why.  Oh, except for the package they delivered to my husband by placing it at the door of the people 6 doors down from us - luckily my husband was expecting a dhl package, so he glanced down at it as he walked past, and sure enough, it had his name on it.  It wasn’t even mislabeled or anything.  How hard is it to match an address?  I mean, if it’s like YOUR JOB.  The ONE thing you were HIRED to do?

So when I ordered my shiny new happiness last week, I was dismayed to get the confirmation email that stated that shipment would be via dhl.  Now, I had opted for the normal ‘free’ shipping - so I guess I shoulda known that I was gonna get exactly what I paid for.

As soon as dell sent me my tracking number, I registered with dhl so they would send me email updates.  Specifically, I wanted to know when my package was out for delivery.  It was a signature-required package, so I wanted to be able to like, oh, be home when they delivered my package.  I checked my email all day today, and the last thing dhl sent me was a notification that my package had arrived at the local chantilly facility.  There was no ‘Your package is out for delivery notification.’  So I worked late today, in anticipation of a delivery attempt early next week that I might want to bail out of work early for.

When I got home, the husband let me know that dhl tried and failed to deliver my package today.  They left a note on the door stating that they would redeliver on monday.  And there was a phone number in case I had any questions.  There was no ‘Your package will be at X after Y o’clock and available for pickup’ on the note.  Like, say, ups, fedex, and the good ol’ usps provide. 

I grumbled at dhl and assumed they wouldn’t have a pick-up facility.  Because, well, surely they would have mentioned it on their note?  After dinner, the husband finally convinced me to call the number and ask if I could pick the package up.  Well, it so happens that I was able to do just that.  The lady on the phone was ever so helpful, even giving me the address of the facility, and calling the facility to let them know I was on my way to pick up my package.  She was very adamant that the place closed at 8, and I was all, relax lady, it’s a quarter to 7 … 

I arrived at the chantilly dhl office at 7:15 expecting them to have already located my package.  I was expecting to be in and out in 5 or 10 minutes.  I should have known something was up when I got there and found 8 or 10 cars in the parking lot.

I entered the lobby of the dhl facility and found 10 people already waiting.  No one behind the counter.  Only one guy had seen a dhl employee, he had given her his slip.  20 minutes earlier.

We could hear several dhl employees.  They were having some kind of fight.  I’m not sure what about, but it was very animated.  I played my daily sudoku game on my phone.  And then I surfed the internet on my phone - brit lost custody of her kids.  And there are 5 states that you can get executed in for child-rape, though the last person executed for it was in 1964.

By 7:30, there were 20 or so people in the lobby.  Still no sight of a dhl employee.  No one knew exactly what was going on.  Some people left. 

7:35, a dhl employee sighting!  Oh, but she was on her way out.  She had been there since 5 am, I guess I won’t begrudge her for going home.  She promised that there were still dhl employees there. 

7:38, a slightly tipsy man in the back told his girlfriend he was going to put her in a dhl box and ship her.  And she would be LOST FOREVER because it was dhl, and he would get away with murder.  We all agreed it was a fool-proof plot.

7:40, a man in the lobby called dhl’s chantilly office.  To let them know there were 25 impatient people in the lobby - and 5 more outside.  In 35 degree weather. 

7:45, a surprisingly pleasant ups man showed up behind the counter.  No, for real, he was wearing a ups shirt.  Cross my heart.  After reassuring everyone that dhl was his part-time gig, he asked for ashburn and south riding slips.  Because, well, those were the trucks that had already made it back.  Lucky for me, I was in that group, so I handed him my slip. 

The man who had seen his slip disappear almost an hour earlier asked the ups man if there was still a dhl lady back there, and if she was like, crushed and dying under a pile of heavy boxes.  Because, well, that is the most reasonable explanation for why she would take his slip, and then disappear for nearly an HOUR without checking on the status of the lobby.  Or without coming back to let him know she was still looking. 

7:50, the elusive dhl lady showed up and gave the very angry man his package.  She took some more slips.  The ups man arrived with a few boxes, and had the dhl lady sign them out.  (As a ups man, he had no such package sign-out privileges.) 

7:52, a man arrived to SHIP packages.  Like A LOT of packages.  He brought them ALL into the lobby - building a fort almost completely around one man.  We were all bewildered as to why anyone would choose to ship via dhl.  And why he had to bring all his boxes into the lobby while it was packed with people. 

7:55, the ups man arrived with my package!  He called out my street, in lieu of my name.  Didn’t feel up to the challenge of ‘akaemi,’ I guess.  I moved up to the counter and gazed longingly at my box.

8:00, closing time for the chantilly office.  There were still 20 people in the lobby.  No dhl employee had arrived to let me sign out my package.  I contemplated taking it and running.  And then I contemplated opening it and playing with it on the counter.

8:05, two dhl men showed up and started handing out packages.  Tipsy got his and signed out before me.  As the dhl men were about to scurry off to locate more packages, I begged them to sign me out, seeing as my box was RIGHT in FRONT of me on the COUNTER.  They obliged, and I was able to finally leave that horrible, horrible place. 

muffin licker

Thursday, January 3rd, 2008

Forge has found himself a new title. Because, well, it seems he likes to lick blueberry muffins. He did manage to carry one off (they were just mini muffins, so it wasn’t quite the miraculous feat you may have imagined), but he couldn’t figure out how to eat it, as his teeth aren’t really designed for blueberry muffin eating.

So I’ve learned my lesson: I will throw out any muffins I have left unattended. There’s no telling what Forge has done to them.

happy new year!

Wednesday, January 2nd, 2008

I rang in last year with my lego batmobile. This year, it’s lego star wars for the ps3.

Now, I am not a serious gamer - I prefer mah jong and solitaire to the generally more reflex-testing console games. But the lego star wars game is just plain fun - and no serious skill needed. If you die, no biggie, you lose some coins and come back to life. Have no coins? Whatever, come back to life anyway! It’s all good.

The cut scenes are truly a delight - they tell the star wars story, but with lego characters. Someone lose a head? Off pops the lego head. Someone lose a hand? Off pops the lego appendage. No gore, just pure silly lego fun.

And the two player functionality is awesome - a second person can just join and leave whenever they want - no commitment required. This has actually come in handy on some of the more difficult maneuvers - while chasing darth maul up and across and over platforms (lots of jumping required), the husband and I just couldn’t seem to get it together and both make all the jumps. Sometimes I’d miss, and end up dragging him down with me. Rarely, it was he who would miss, and we’d both go plummeting back down to the beginning. So what to do? I dropped out until he made it all the way to the top, then joined back in. My qui-gonn, as the computer, had managed all the jumps just fine.

We’ve made it to episode III fairly quickly, which is a plus. Games that drag on for too long get frustrating, and then I never finish them. Once we make it to the end, the game isn’t over - you can replay the levels with any characters you choose. Last night, the husband and I replayed one of our beaten levels as qui-gonn and darth maul. It did make getting to the end of the level a little difficult however, as we kept feeling the need to kill each other …