Jump to content

Garage_Rubin
 Share

Recommended Posts

where i work vs where i live is separated by water. which makes for bottle necks. there are two ways across. for me the real option is the erskine bridge. unfortunately the signs before the bridge tonight said it was closed. and the whole drive up all you could see from the bridge were the flashing blue lights. switched to radio, multiple car crash. enough to close the bridge. which diverts me and everyone else along the same road to the next crossing, which is the clyde tunnel. normally takes me 45 minutes to get home. as a result of this took me 2 hours and 15 minutes. was shattered by the time i got home. also, going a route you don't use, so aren't familiar with, where signs are poorly lit, is pretty stressful. every day i see people drive like shit, so confident that some fucker switched lanes, without warning and if they are lucky destroyed a number of cars, and delayed 100s of people for hours. left work at 5, got home after 7, checking traffic scotland's twitter looks like it was after 8 before it was clear, must have been some fucking mess.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Turns out one of our guys was there. Such that the fire engine was so close to front of his car he could watch while they cut folk from the wreck. He reckons no one was hurt, but they were cutting people out to be safe. Funny,  when sat in traffic part of your brain says they must have cleared the crash by now, be quicker heading back at this rate. He said he was still there for another half hour after I got home.

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Clyde Tunnel:  I remember, when I worked in Glasgow in 1965-66, most of my work was with Yarrow's and John Brown's shipyards, both in Clydebank, but I sometimes had to go to the Govan shipyard, just the other side of the river, and easily reachable through the tunnel which had just opened. I never yet was able to drive through, as one or another of the two tunnels was closed for repairs every time I needed to. Instead, I parked the car on the North bank, and walked through the tunnel instead, an eerie and lonely journey, accompanied by alarming drips and puddles at the lowest part. On one occasion, I met one of the tunnel engineers, and remarked on the constant dampness. He told me "Every tunnel leaks. You've just got to make sure the pumps can keep pace. We're upgrading these ones." Very reassuring.

  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

My best friend had stomach troubles and nothing we bought or did fixed it- finally on sat she went into the walk in clinic, which turned into surgery for her gallbladder-

She texted me about it- Being without a car there is little i could do but text her words of encouragement-

Mean while i would look over at her house where i knew her kids and hubby where, on occasion and wonder if i should go over and keep the older two teen in line and watch the toddlers-

But, I thought, no it's the weekend and with her hubby home all should be well-

She came home on Monday, i went over after dialysis to see how she was-

she was in pain felt weird from drug and tired-

I could tell some thing was up, so i got out of dodge and told her i would be over to take care of her toddlers on tues-

Yeah, you figure that lot would figure out that if i run for cover it is time to get yur shit in line- but they never do- I guess she blew her top about the house being a disaster and things not being taken care of while she was in the hospital-

I feel like one of the those animals that know when the volcano is going to blow-

So I went over today, took care of the toddlers and exiled her to her room until she had a shower and a couple hour nap-

picked up the house a little- made her a little coffee and food- waited til her older son got home gave him a chore list, watched him do it-

Waited for the daughter gave her chores made sure she did them- made snacks for the toddlers- and waited til the hubby got home- clocked out-

my question is when did i marry my best friend and why don't i get anniversary gifts-

or one of the fucking kids as a tax write off-

 

  • Like 6
Link to comment
Share on other sites

I was up and down all night with the toddler (2 in March) who was suffering from a combination of "this was a weird day" and an impending cold. Put a bit of a wrench into my plans for today, which were to go up to the gardens/farm in the back of our valley to participate in a volunteer work day - instead I sent the preschooler (5 in August!) off with her grandmother (TM may join them in a while) and am encouraging the toddler to rest and relax. Which means watching cartoons ;)

Link to comment
Share on other sites

G~R, *love* the new icon.  You're looking awfully dangerous there.  :-)

 

Anyway, I kept getting these periodontal infections no matter what I did -- as you may have guessed from my detailed reply to Noir's dental problem a while back.  Flossing was no help.  Antibacterial mouthwash was no help either [although it did offer temporary relief].  Penicillin only seemed to work, until it flared-up again just two days after a ten-day run of the stuff.  I asked the doctor not to prescribe it again this time, btw.  Clindamycin does help, but isn't something you want to take all the time, especially since it kills *everything*, including the bacteria you want to keep.  So my intestines are a bit of a mess right now.  You can't eat yogurt with it either, because the antibiotic will go after the probiotics instead of doing its job.

 

This is really annoying, because I'd just got all my teeth fixed, was taking proper care of them, and don't want to lose any more.  I'm even trying not to smoke [again], because that lowers your resistance to almost everything.  And this kept happening anyway.

 

So I ordered a Waterpik from Amazon, and *that* seems to work, so maybe I have a couple pockets which floss only scratches the surface of.  I'd never cleaned my teeth with a machine gun before.  It's kind of fun.  :-)

 

 

Cheers,

Patrick.

  • Like 4
Link to comment
Share on other sites

The wife of one of my best (and oldest) friends presented a Ph. D. thesis.

 

Actually, it is the written testimony of an overwhelming obsession. She is a guitar teacher at the Conservatory, quite famous in the rarefied circles of Baroque and Neoclassical guitar, with several records recovering popular songs from past centuries, several of them profiting from the support in the bicentennials of the Napoleonic wars. The last five years she has been tracking an elusive composer, spy, diplomat and general, Federico Moretti, including trips throughout Europe. The kind of noble dilettante and cosmopolitan adventurer that opposed the French Revolution for many years. So on one hand she has almost written a historical novel for the period, including romances, cloak and dagger events, musical evenings for French field marshals, and bloody battles. On the other she is preparing the integral work of the 75 works of his she has recovered (more than double those known before she started looking for them) from one of the best pedagogians of guitar in its time.

 

The first public defence I have seen where the future doctor stopped the discussion to sing and play for ten minutes. 

 

It puts things in perspective, that level of obsession. And how many information sources still remain for events taking place two hundred years ago. Probably more than will remain of us, with our new paperless tendencies.

 

Combined with some IT hiccups in the company, I feel the urge to print several thousand pages of reports. They will not last two hundred years, but probably enough for the rest of my life.

  • Like 4
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Dentist appointment didn't go so well [not today; Friday].  You know how the lower molars kind of split into two roots?  I have a periodontal lesion in the `crotch' of one molar, and that's what keeps getting re-infected.  Something like this;

 

1715623a-7f00-0001-40a6-5fa88ed9daf7.JPG

[not a human tooth, just an example]

 

The long-term prognosis for that one wasn't good anyway, so I'd expected to lose it eventually, but now the crud's starting to leak over into the neighbouring molar.  Rather, the bone *around* a neighbouring molar.  Kind of sucks because outwardly things look fine, and the teeth themselves actually are fine.  Like mighty oaks, rooted in loose soil.  :-\

 

So I'm thinking he might as well pull both of them.  We didn't do anything that day; he gave me some time to think about it.  There's not much point making a partial plate for just one tooth, and no guarantee that pulling the back one will help the one next to it.  No point in prescribing antibiotics either [which he didn't] because those already haven't worked, twice.  Okay, in the short-term yes they worked, but it just came back when the pills ran out.

 

I went straight from his office to a denture clinic, asked the guy a few questions.

 

With not much chewing surface left, I don't want the jaw muscle to atrophy on that side, or the upper molars to slide down for lack of chewing stresses to hold them in place.  So, partial plate.  Then if it clears up, and if my jaw stays fairly clean afterward, and if I can stay off tobacco for at least six months [my own rule, btw; not much point fixing stuff which will only succumb to slow poisoning later], we can talk about dental implants.  At present no one in their right mind would drill any *new* holes in my jaw, so we'll just have to wait and see.  Either way, it looks like I'll become a cyborg sooner than I'd expected.  Wish I'd had more time to save-up for that.

 

 

Fuck,

Patrick.

Edited by Garage_Rubin
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Thanks!  :-)

 

Doberman buds, in `Johnny Mnemonic' [novella, not the book or the [shudder] movie].  They were popular among the savages living up above Nighttown.  "If they think you're technical, go crude.  If they think you're crude, go technical."  Not sure if I like the idea of immunosuppressants to sustain nonhuman teeth though; gum infections can get nasty enough as it is, so I'd rather keep my immune system fully intact thank you very much.

 

[The X-ray above was of a cat's molar, btw, not dog.]

 

I'd mentioned a preference for shark teeth a while ago, after getting some fillings, because they're disposable and more or less infinitely replaceable -- and don't have that useless bloody nerve down the middle, which I still think is a bad design despite Mz.Clean trying to introduce me to God.  I haven't hassled Him about that one directly, btw, in prayer or otherwise.

 

 

Cheers,

Patrick.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

9 hours ago, Garage_Rubin said:

With not much chewing surface left, I don't want the jaw muscle to atrophy on that side, or the upper molars to slide down for lack of chewing stresses to hold them in place.  So, partial plate. 

I wouldn't fret too much about that. I had most of my molars extracted 35 years ago (a potential cross-infection precaution with coronary artery grafts), I had partial plates, but seldom used them, and my jaw muscles certainly didn't atrophy. In point of fact, because of the additional work the remaining teeth had to do, I'd say they are stronger. What's more, I've never had to worry about tooth decay in that area.

Edited by gil
  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Thanks, that helps.  :-)

 

I did have an upper molar `crawl out' three or four millimeters in the space of a year, after having the corresponding lower removed.  IIRC my wisdom teeth [uppers] hung down a bit, although they had grown in straight.  Maybe there's naturally some play in the uppers [where the bone is less dense / more malleable], like they're adjustable or something, to form a good fit overall.  So with no resistance, they drift out over time.

 

Maybe I'm being vain.  Maybe it's different if you're married.  In any case I have a nice smile, and would like to keep it that way -- at least 'til someone sees past all that, and stops caring how many teeth I have.  For now, first impressions still matter to me.

 

Maybe it's the creeping curse of middle-age.  I don't like to think I'm getting old yet.  But I am getting older, and sometimes it feels like time is running out.  I'm not where I'd like to be yet, and stuff like this gets in my fucking way.

 

As for smoking, I'm not worried about it killing me, just want to feel better while I'm still alive.  My grandmother on my Dad's side almost made it to ninety -- chain-smoking and drinking like a fish.  She did have lung cancer when she died, but I'm not sure if that's what killed her.  My grandfather, her widower, lived well into his nineties, but had quit smoking in his fifties due to sinus problems [probably caused by smoking], and was a much more moderate drinker.  No lung cancer there either.  Grandparents on Mom's side both got into their late eighties at least, maybe to ninety, but neither smoked and rarely drank.  Grandpa on Mom's side had no [natural] teeth for as long as I can remember, though, steel knees later on, and an artificial hip, so I've got that to look forward to.  :-)  [Really; the replacements work better than the originals at that stage, and have no pain receptors.]

 

I'm more afraid of daylight; skin cancer *does* run in my family, on both sides I think.

 

 

Cheers,

Patrick.

PS:  I guess it's about time to watch Roy Batty rail against his four-year lifespan again...  Puts things in perspective, doesn't it?

Edited by Garage_Rubin
Morphology, longevity, incept dates.
Link to comment
Share on other sites

PPS:  If I even start to say anything positive about Rogaine, skin creams, hair dyes or anything like that, SHOOT ME.  I'll send you my address.  I'll even find you a gun.  :-)  [Won't say where I found it, but I'll find you one...]  You all know what I look like already, and if you type my postal code into Google Earth, or Maps, it zeroes-in on my house like the AI in that `Killswitch' episode of the X-Files.  Consider yourself invited.

 

 

Thanks,

Patrick.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Meanwhile, the woman who organizes those aspie get-togethers is thinking of taking it to a different restaurant -- somewhere quieter, both in terms of acoustics and actual sound output from customers and kitchen hardware.  The cafe we've been going to is pretty much all hard surfaces, so the relationship between number of patrons and amount of noise tends to be exponential, rather than linear.  :-\  Add sensory processing issues, and some attendees start to have trouble thinking in there, let alone having a conversation.

 

Good idea, but the discussion on where else to go turned into a bit of a gong show.  She's always titled herself `Organizer and Head Cat-Herder', and at times like this I can see why.

 

Mz.Clean's been really nice, and as always a lot of fun to be around, but seems to wonder what's wrong with me lately.  She asks if I'm okay on a regular basis.  I don't always have a good answer for that.  Maybe it's winter.  I'll try getting nuked in the tanning booth [a *safe* dose of radiation for people who burn easily, of course], see if that improves my mood.

 

Everyone at The Gym is gearing up for another stationary biking event, to raise money for kids' activities and fitness programs.  I'm signed on to ride [and my Lucky Dragon jersey is at the ready], but haven't raised any money yet.  :-\  I'll probably just throw some of my own cash into it, haven't had the spare time to hassle family and friends, this time around.

 

 

Cheers,

Patrick.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

We are having a bit of a freakstorm weather. Traveling to the coast for business (a 500 km drive), we had both a snowstorm at -3ºC (an area at 1200 m height over sea level) and over 20ºC sunny weather by the sea. It looks as it will end as the warmest winter on record.

 

Fortunately the car and tyres were fully all weather. That portion of the coast has become a wintering spot for thousands of retired Northern Europeans. Like Florida but with milder weather.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  1. Mirtazapine [mildly sedating antidepressant, also good for anxiety],
  2. Methocarbamol tablets [generic Robaxacet, muscle relaxant, for the intramuscular novocaine shot],
  3. Naproxen [anti-inflammatory, to minimize swelling.  Will prolong bleeding, but that might flush-out some of the crap that's causing me trouble anyway].

...And some yogurt to settle my stomach, because naproxen is still nasty stuff.

 

Back to the lab again...  I'm not looking forward to this.  Clinical and/or institutional environments still make me squirrelly sometimes.

 

 

I actually *have* looked forward to dental appointments when we were doing something constructive, but demolition...?  Not so much.  Once again and as always, I'll do my best to *not* bite the dentist.  He's a nice man.

 

Mojo?  [Not for me; for him.]

 

 

Thanks,

Patrick.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Well, that went smoothly.  I'm still not happy about this, but it could have been worse.  My roots are quite long, and the one in back had a weird curve to it, but he was able to get that out with a bit of a backward twist.  No cutting the crown in half to get the roots out separately, no digging around in my jaw for broken-off tips of root.  The next one over was a premolar with a single, fairly straight root.  And the bone around them was kind of -- damaged, probably didn't hold them in as well as it should.  That helps if you're trying to pull them out though.

He said I can use a waterpik again in just a couple days, but I'd rather save that for Monday, just in case.
 

 

Cheers,

Patrick.

PS:              tumblr_inline_nk12vyLjmz1qgy9dr.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Made all my under-resourced students look up who is running for president, what the candidates have said, and decide whether they agree or not.

 

90% of kids heard of, "The Donald Duck guy.  Donald Trump?  Trump."  Maybe 10 or less percent heard of "Hillary Clinton."  "That lady who marry George Bush," --direct quote.

 

Most of these kids are in Section 8 and are immigrants, so when they looked up and found that Donald Trump wants to send basically everyone "back where they came from", the kids were real pissed off.  Then one of the girls found a quote by The Donald, "It doesn't matter what the media says about you, as long as you have a beautiful piece of ass standing next to you."  I had to cover the word up because of the foul language, but she'd already read it.  She shared it with everyone eventually, and the responses went mostly like this.

 

"What kind of President say the bad words!  He is evil!"   "That guy is a bad guy!  He cannot be President!"   "I hate that Donald Duck!"  And several others described colorfully how they would 'remove him' from office, and from living, if he ever won.  I of course had to encourage them not to hate or commit violence against anyone.  

 

But, you know... it's good to see at least the children have not lost their senses, unlike a lot of Trump supporters.

 

They were happy to see Bernie was planning to make college free.  Especially the university-student volunteers.

  • Like 5
Link to comment
Share on other sites

So, prologue-

My mom got into a major accident a few months ago- a month before that she found out the land my uncle was buying for my grandfather before he died was massively unpaid and had been bought by some guy and she was planning to try to buy it from him at and over inflated price- whatever-

after the accident tho she lost her job and therefore chance to buy the land back-

So, i had to get 30+ years and 3 household moved off the land in less  than a month-

My uncle told me to take what i wanted, sell it and keep the money-

One of the things was a cuckoo clock still in an unopened box-

So i put some of the things on the facebook garage sale- to sale locally-

I put it up for 50 bucks and figure i would take 40-

This woman comes at me it 25-

told her nope- but i would go as low as 40-

Then she tells me she'll give 30-

now i am amused-

I tell her 39-

then she comes back with 25-

I message back 39-

this is like bad comedy sketch-

I have to get the rest of the stuff up- sigh-

Link to comment
Share on other sites

There is a definite fuck you culture. People taking the piss on off chance you are desperate. Half the time you don't get impression they really care. But if they can put one over on you then they win. Hear it all the time - from colleagues putting things up on sale sites to people selling property. People fucking make me sick.

  • Like 2
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Apologized to Mz.Clean for -- well, not an apology exactly, more an explanation that I don't want to be around *anyone* right now, but especially not anyone I like, for fear of snapping at them [or just not being able to fake being glad to see them, right then].  She was really understanding about that, and wished me the best of luck with everything.  I helped out a bit, but didn't stick around the gym any longer than absolutely necessary.  Will have some catching up to do later.

 

Same went for my other job, except I didn't really have to explain that to security, just steered clear of them and left early.

 

Funny, the less you know someone, the easier it is to fake it with a `professional demeanour' and kind of slide past them.  But the closer they are, the harder that gets.  As it should.

 

 

Cheers,

Patrick.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

 Share

×
×
  • Create New...