Feb. 21st, 2009

lance_sibley: (Strike)
I thought tonight was going to be a good night at bowling after I got two spares and a strike in practice, but then the splits started coming about halfway through the first game. 135, 172, 161. (I was on a pace for a 180 game in the third until I got a split in the ninth frame, too.)

The trip down was... interesting. Not as interesting as a couple of weeks ago when I shared the back of the bus with a bunch of juvenile delinquents, but still... interesting. In an annoying way.

A woman got on the subway with her small daughter and slightly older son. Most of the seats were taken, so the mother and daughter were standing. The daughter - who looked to be about seven years old - immediately started to climb the pole right in front of me. She got to the top, then slid down and started climbing again. Rinse and repeat. Rather than stop her (my mother would have grabbed me by the hair and slapped me if I had done that at that age), every time the girl slipped a little, she would grab her by the waist and hold her up so that she could continue to climb.

Then she slid down and started playing with the Etch-a-Sketch that her mother was holding. The mother started to turn around so that the girl had to run in circles around her to continue playing with it. Then she stopped and went back to climbing the pole. At one point she spread her legs and started spinning around the pole in midair. WTF???

I told my teammates at the bowling alley about this, and Jamie said, "I bet she's going to be a stripper when she grows up." I wish I'd thought of that at the time (I was too annoyed, plus I was trying to read - I started Cowl by Neal Asher last night, and I was having enough trouble getting into the story without the distraction). Though you'd think that, given that I'm working on a website right now for a stripper exotic dancer, it would have occurred to me.

Oh, and I should also not be able to hear people over the sound of my iPod when it's at maximum volume, but I could hear every word this girl was saying. *headdesk*

The second annoying part of the evening came after bowling. I put my ball and shoes in my locker, then put my sweatshirt, coat and boots on, grabbed my backpack, and headed out. Mario wasn't there tonight, so I didn't have my usual ride to the subway. (Ed had offered me a ride, but they were ready to go and I knew that it would take me at least 15 more minutes because I had to fill out the team scoresheet and our opponents weren't finished yet - Ed and Jamie are always out of there before the rest of us are finished. So I didn't want to make them wait.)

So I made my way outside, grabbed the bus up to Eglinton and then the Eglinton bus across to Yonge. I got off the bus, put my hands in my coat pockets, and...

No keys.

My key ring contains the keys for my apartment door, the deadbolt, my storage locker, my bowling alley locker, the office, and one mystery key. (As Eric said, everyone has to have one mystery key.) I wasn't that concerned about the bowling alley key or the office key (since they're not identifiable as such), but my key ring has a tag on it that has the address of my building on it, and there have been eight break-and-enters in the past month or so.

I had enough charge on my cellphone left to call the bowling alley in case I'd left them there, so I did so - and it turned out that I'd left them on the counter in front of the lanes we were on tonight. Whew!

So I schlepped all the way back over to the bowling alley, got my keys, and came back home. It added about an hour to my evening because the buses were all running every 15 minutes or so, and I must have just missed one each time except for the first leg of the trip back (and I had to run for that one).

After getting home, I logged onto Skype and Eric called, and we chatted for a while. He's visiting friends at Berry College this weekend, so we didn't watch BSG tonight - we may have to wait until Tuesday night when we're both home from work.

And now I think I'm ready for bed... I figure I'll probably wake up around 2 in the afternoon. *yawn*
lance_sibley: (wake me up)
I said yesterday (I think it was yesterday) that I was so tired that I'd probably sleep until some ridiculous hour today.

I thought I was joking. I didn't know that I would actually do it. And then I woke up and it was 3:30 in the afternoon.

So much for most of the things I intended to accomplish today. Laundry, cleaning, catching up on the emails (which are back up to over 200)... I'll get some of it done, obviously, but I'll have to try to do the rest tomorrow.

I managed to get out the door by 4, and while I was out having my coffee, I wandered into Future Shop just on the slim chance that they'd gotten a copy of Doctor Who S4 in the past week - and they HAD! There was one copy on the shelf. *Mine!*

Oh, and I picked up the Dead Like Me movie while I was in there. I was a little miffed that they'd packaged it with the whole series for less money than I had paid for the two box sets, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Almost everything these days seems to be half of what I originally paid for it. That's what I get for being impatient. (The stupid thing is, I hardly ever watch anything as soon as I buy it, which is why I may have trouble exchanging my copy of Heroes S2 - now two of the discs won't play in my DVD player. They told me today at the store that they'll only exchange stuff within 30 days of purchase. Like I have the time to watch anything within 30 days of when I buy it... but I may be able to prevail upon the manager. I've done it before when I've found, six months after buying something, that it wouldn't play. I just tell them that I have something like 20 box sets on the shelf that I still haven't even gotten around to unwrapping. And that's not a lie or an exaggeration.)


Feb. 21st, 2009 05:45 pm
lance_sibley: (Lust - by crazybutgraphic)
Gakked from [livejournal.com profile] redeem147:

Post an image of the actor (or actress) you most crushed on in high school.

This one is easy:


Yeah, I know. I was weird. :)


lance_sibley: (Default)

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