Steven: April 2005 Archives

The man I married ... ... Is ... - a gentleman. - my confidant. - a gentle man. - my better half. - honorable. - my soulmate. - patriotic. - my best friend. - a certified diver. - my partner. - a licensed minister. really. - my hero. ... Can ... - wire a dishwasher. - temper my moods. - wire a ceiling fan. - leave me speechless. - hit the bullseye on a target with a .45. - break my heart with a word. - almost hit the bullseye on a target with a compound bow. - set it right again just as easily. - rekey door locks. - cause my knees to buckle with his smile. ... Has ... - wired a house so every room has a LAN drop. - my trust. - a degree in biotechnology from RIT. - my respect. - a Master's in Computer Science from GWU. - my devotion. - two grandparents that are immigrants. - my support. - one grandparent that is first generation American. - my heart in his hands. - one grandparent that descends from settlers of Jamestown. - my love. ... Will Not ... - Lie - to me. - Cheat - on me. - Steal - from me. - Betray you - or me.

Steven and I are internet junkies. On days like yesterday (which was grey, raining and cold) we are most often found sitting behind a machine. Yes, we spent several hours, each on a different machine, communicating through messenger or shouts down the front hall, tweeking and making changes to the CSS and look of our web sites. For those who use Internet Explorer as your web browser you will have to make a slight effort to see the biggest change here. Add me to your favorites (bookmark me), close IE, reopen, come back to this web page. You should see a little red barn icon beside the URL. It should look like this: barn.jpg http://www.bigredcouch.org/blog If you are more web savvy and know that Internet Explorer is really a poor browser, you are using Firefox and you can see the icon with no effort what-so-ever. With some help from my resident geek husband the MT tags were added so that the catagories each entry is post under reads at the bottom of said entries and some CSS tweeking makes it look much nicer and conforms with the look I am trying to achieve. I must be honest. Getting those MT tags in the right place and getting it to look like I wanted was frustrating. My husband hears what I want to accomplish and he helps with a literal translation. He gave me the tags, showed me where they fit properly in page template, but what he did not do was hear that I wanted the output to be pretty and small and red. After much frustration, raised voice and seething rage, he help me add the CSS to make it exactly as I imagined. Yes, folks, I have no patience, get frustrated and it comes out in seething spats of conversation from between my gritted teeth and tight lips. However, Steven is a saint, who laughs at me and asks questions that only fuel the rage. "Whhaaaat?" he says. Smirky half grin. The look of one who can tweek and change with very little effort. The look of one who can write entire strings of code and make those words and symbols behave in any way he desires. The look of a geek who realizes his wife isn't as prolific in the areas of his geek expertise. A wife who gets frustrated which provides comedy for his future blogging pleasures. But also his wife, who is much better at graphic arts than he. A wife who hears his pain that the little picture he has is 32 x 32 and 256 colors that will not work. A wife who hears his unspoken desires to have a tractor icon that really looks like a tractor and not a walk behind lawn mower. A wife who sat and colored each and every pixel a compatable shade of green until he had a 16 x 16 green tractor icon that loads up at the top of the web browser right beside his URL. One that looks strikingly like this: greentractor2.jpg . Marriage is a partnership. Last night we complimented one another in the ways that partnership should work. Through barter and exchange, frustration and seething rage I got the code snippets I wanted. Through the heartfelt compassion of a wife who really wants her husbands web pages to look as her husband knows he imagines he got the icon of a little green tractor. You have to give a little to get a little, folks. We both gave and both got. We both gave and we both got what we wanted in the end but it is the journey to the destination in where memories are made. "Why are you so angry and shouting? I gave you the tags." "Because you do not listen. If you listened you would know I wanted it pretty and small and RED!"

For those who think I have made up 'pee shivers' in the title of this post, I will have you to know it is a known neurological phenomenon that most often is experienced by men. More scholarly minds than I deduce that it is a result of a sudden change in body temp when the male of our species empties a too full bladder. I had never heard of 'pee shivers' until I met my husband. He told me once that he experienced 'pee shivers' on occassion not long after I had moved from Georgia to Virginia, in the days when we slept on a waterbed. "Pee shivers? You're making that up, right?" There is an air bubble in the waterbed. You can hear the slight slosh as he climbs on. "No," sexy half smile shows his white teeth, "some men shiver when they pee." "Every time you pee?" Slack jawed at this discovery. "No, just sometimes." Climbing deeper under the covers as if climbing into a sleeping bag filled with hot water. "You're shittin me?" Adjusting my position so I can be sure I can see his eyes clearly while he acrobatically positions himself on the moving mattress. "No, I was peeing." Doh! I looked it up. It's was real. Some people might find it odd or bordering on something akin to golden showers. IT IS NOT!!!! I want to witness a 'pee shiver'. I want to see this male urinary phenomenon live and in person. But honestly, more than a shake is a stroke and I think it might have something to do with that more than change in body temp. Really. Think about it. If you don't want to think about it you can read about it on Google Answers. *** I plan to buy a new laptop. I have my eye on the IMB Thinkpad R51. My husband is not completely sold on the idea but often suggests that I should be coveting a new Toshiba. If he thinks he is going to pull a "Dad" on me well that Mr. has another think coming. You see, Steven's mom bought herself a nice laptop. She does little more than check email and look at baby photos but the laptop was for her surfing pleasure. Over a brief period of time she lost that notebook to her husband, my father-in-law, Steven's dad. When he wore it out she bought another one at Costco. No idea which brand or model. Guess who now has a new laptop? Right! His dad. That is one dog that will not hunt in this house! Are you reading this, honey? You already own a laptop and I am currently typing this post on it. *** I talked to the service guy at the local John Deere dealer. It seems three things are wrong with my husband's new toy. 1. It needs a new PTO case. 2. It needs a new rear PTO shaft. 3. It needs a new PTO gear. I am praying it is under warrenty. If not, sweet jesus, it is going to cost some bucks. I was hoping they would not quote me a price and thankfully my prayer was answered. They had no price quote available. I guess I can look forward to heartburn one day next week. Steven has not been sleeping well this week. At first I was worried it was the huge amounts of stress heaped upon him at work. Now I really believe it is worry over his new toy. He says not. I am still on the fence.

When I was growing up it was common practice to be called something other than your name. I mean something beyond the common nickname (and no, SOB, jackass and the like was not allowed). My birth name is Angela. My nickname is Angie. My grandmother called me Pan-An or Angie-Pangie my entire life. She passed away last September and nobody calls me by those names, no one is allowed to, except for my Steven and that's only because he provides me with things like money and food and internet service that is NOT dial-up. I mean, this man has EARNED the right! My grandmother had other names she called her children, too. My uncle is named Melvin (do NOT play games with this name, it was my grandfather's name and it is a GREAT name, but I won't be naming any son of mine Melvin because I don't want his butt kicked on the playground for having such a nerdy name.) My grandmother called him "Buck", some family members called him "Buckshot". My mother hated her name. Her name is Martha, her nickname is Mot, but her other name was "SquashBottom". My Aunt Sue was "Sally Pumphandle". My Aunt Rachel and I were both addressed as "Fatty Rabbit" by my grandfather. My Aunt Sherry was called "Fe-Fee" by her younger bother and my sister. My youngest uncle was often called "Sport". Yeah, we know that is a dog's name, but we don't acknowledge it in public. My great uncle, Jesse, code name: "Uncle Tittle", (OMG the names) called him "Hammer" or "Hammerhead", stemming from an incident where the previous wacked the latter with a hammer on the head while he was napping on the couch. My grandmother was known to her brothers and my grandfather (and his mother and sister) as "Sis" and after my grandfather passed away her second husband called her, "Lovey". I like the name "Lovey". I was honored when for no reason my husband has started calling me "Lovey." He didn't know my grandmother was "Lovey" and it gave me a thrill to know that once again I had something in common with my grandmother. I asked him one night while we were in the truck why he called me "Lovey". I was expecting some great little tidbit about him loving me or some such romantic notion, but it wasn't to be. He called me "Lovey" in honor of Mrs. Thurston Howell, III, from Gilligan's Island. Oh, well, so much for romance. When my own children came along, I followed the family tradition and began giving my daughter other names. It's a wonder in the early years that she even knew her real name. She was "Sally", "Frog Bottom", "Flossy" and "Eulealeigh Quattlebaum". For a while between the ages of 4 and 8 she refused to answer to her birth name, ColbyAnne, and insisted she be called, "Francey". My younger daughter was given names like "Lollipop", "Hop Noodle", "Droopey Drawers" and "Eupheginia Pennyworth". My kids answer to just about anything these days. I mean, I did my duty as a southern mother! Colby is now nearing 18 years old and she too has picked up on the family tradition of changing peoples names. She might bring me a glass of tea and will sit it down with an off-handed "Here's you a glass of tea, Ethel." My husband and my step-daughter (age 9) does not understand this Southern Tradition. They are confused by it. Steven gives the kids names, like "Huggy Bear" and "Sugar Buggar", but that is the limit of his imagination and the only names he uses and only when he is in a playful mood. J., my step-daughter, gets upset when her name is changed. My oldest often calls her "Janet" and she shouts, "I am not Janet!". Suffice it to say that is two yankees who have no sense of humor of the southern variety. Which leads me to this thought. Steven thinks he is southern simple because he has lived in Virginia for the past 23 years. He thinks his daughter is southern because she was born in Virginia. My God! This man has 2 degrees and he doesn't understand the concepts of southernism. I point out nearly every single day he is not southern. He was born in Illinois, raised by two yankees from Chicago and his not understanding the word "yonder" clearly support this fact. As to the daughter born in Virginia who is not southern either, I simply point out: "A cat may have kittens in the oven but we don't call them biscuits any more than we would call your child, raised by yankees, a southerner." Being southern is a way of life and you know little to nothing about that life therefore you are not Southern! Get it, son? So what is all of this leading to? Last night we lay in bed, talking in those moments just before sleep, listening to the night music floating in the open window. Me: "Have you ever seen a may-pop?" Him: "No." Me: "Have you ever tied a thread to a June bug and watched it fly around?" Him: "Why would I do that?" Me: "Have you ever eaten a watermelon in the field while it is hot from the sun?" Him: "No." Me: "Have you ever used just a string to go fishing?" Him: "No." Then he tries to turn the table on me ... Him: "Have you ever crawled through a sewer pipe?" WTF? Me: "We have septic tanks in the country." Ha, I want to see his ass climb through a 'sewer pipe' from a septic tank. He is NOT southern. But he is getting to be a little bit country. I wish he would hurry up and learn were yonder is because I am tired of the deer-caught-in-the-headlights look he gives me when he asks "Where do you want this?" and I say, "Put it over yonder." **** Addendum 10:13 am**** Steve says: and what's so wrong about gilligan's island? it was a very popular show, and clearly mr. howell truly loved mrs. howell. Cold in Virginia says: no one but you would see the romance in gilligan's island Steve says: deserted tropical island, basic necessities made from coconuts and palm leaves. what's wrong with that? Cold in Virginia says: no internet Steve says: that's made from a palm tree, bamboo, some palm leaves, and an old can. Cold in Virginia says: if that were true they could have blogged it and been rescued Steve says: they went through the anonymizer. why would they spoil the tropical island? Cold in Virginia says: to get rescued Cold in Virginia says: you forget the whole show was written around getting rescued which they fucked up many times over Steve says: and be subject to taxation, overcrowded suburbs, pollution, etc.? Steve says: well - gilligan did. Cold in Virginia says: they all did Steve says: i think it was deliberate. Cold in Virginia says: ha Cold in Virginia says: i am sending jason the link to your tractor pics if you can't come up with something more believable or funny

April 03, 2005 I Married The Absent Minded Professor My husband has started a blog. I did encourage him and am very glad he found the motivation and followed suit. I think the comment I made was along the lines of: "You should start a blog." "Why?" "Just because," pause, "you don't really do any of the average things most geeks do," followed by laughter. A couple days later he surprised me when I found him making an entry in a blogspot account. "Why are you using blogspot?" "I thought it might be interesting to write about things, repairs to the buildings and things we discover about old houses. Someone might be interested." "I think it is a great idea. But why don't you just install Movable Type on your website?" "What website? I have a website?" "The one I paid for as your Thanksgiving present..." "Oh ... where is it?" Followed by my search for all the account info. Somedays I feel as if I am actually married to The Absent Minded Professor. He can be so smart, yet so dumb at the same time! Actually installing Movable Type and getting it to work was another thing. He wanted to use SSH and had to use Leech to upload all the files, which is far below his standards. He is CommandLineGuy with no time for other ways of accomplishing the same result. I know HE was frustrated with ME! He ended up deleting everything he had uploaded and started all over again with my "guidance". I think he is so accustomed to development he just skims through things and doesn't follow instructions. It took a not-so-geeky-girl approach to get him up and running. Anywho, back to the purpose of this post... I love to read what he writes. It doesn't make any difference what the subject is. I like hearing the voice of his writing. I like the way he chooses his words. I like his style. I like discovering the little things he doesn't always say out loud. I like reading the small details of his plans for our farm and outbuildings. I like his humor, dry at times, geeky, too, and sometimes grade school boyish. How his brain works is completely sexy. Posted by Angie at 04:11 AM | Comments (0)

April 02, 2005 Yes, Dear "I am thinking about buying an Apple iBook." A look of total horror slides across Steven's face, "Why?" "Just kidding! I am thinking about a ThinkPad..." Horror is replaced with a dumbfounded look, "Why?" "When I say I am thinking about buying something instead of asking 'Why?' and making me justify my wants/needs the answer is always going to be, 'Because.' OK?" "Yes, Dear." Posted by Angie at 06:22 AM | Comments (0)