The Engineer and I Archive

Last night Kurt made the comment that his commute was the shortest he had in the five years that we’ve lived in our house. He was just ecstatic. This morning I was reading the paper and came across this short article, “6-vehicle crash snarls I-5 traffic“.

Friday, September 7, 2007 - Page updated at 07:39 AM
6-vehicle crash snarls I-5 traffic
By Seattle Times staff
MIKE SIEGEL / THE SEATTLE TIMES

All lanes of northbound I-5 were shut down through Shoreline by a crash caused by a pickup with faulty brakes pulling a trailer, according to the State Patrol.

A six-vehicle crash that sent one person to the hospital and snarled traffic on northbound Interstate 5 through Shoreline on Thursday afternoon was caused by a pickup with faulty brakes pulling a camping trailer, according to the State Patrol.
All lanes of the freeway were shut down at about 3 p.m. near Northeast 175th Street. Traffic quickly backed up nearly six miles to Seattle’s Ravenna neighborhood, according to the state Department of Transportation.

A woman, a passenger in the pickup, was hospitalized with serious injuries, State Patrol spokesman Cliff Pratt said. No one else was seriously hurt.

The chain-reaction crash resulted when the pickup, from British Columbia, failed to stop, Pratt said.

The freeway was reopened at about 5 p.m.

Copyright © 2007 The Seattle Times Company

I sent the link to Kurt with the email subject, “What made your commute tolerable…” He replied with this email which he also sent to some friends…

I commented last night that my commute was the best in 5 years of living in *our city*.

The freeway was strangely quiet.

I thought there must have been an accident south of *area where he works*.

I enjoyed this so much, I’m praying for more 6 car pile ups.

I’m thinking I might buy some $50 junker cars and then pay homeless guys $20 to play demolition derby on I-5 in *city south of where he works* to the benefit of my commute.

I know I’ve been slacking on the blog, but we’ve had quite a bit going on lately. Last week Kurt and I went to go see a lawyer about his paternal rights since we aren’t married. I find it disturbing that if a couple is married it’s just assumed that the baby belongs to the husband and his name is automatically on the birth certificate (maybe I just paid too much attention in the Navy to the hordes of wives at the bar when the squadrons were out to sea). In our case we have to fill out a paternity affidavit stating that he’s the father before his name can appear on the birth certificate. According to our lawyer we also have to do what is equivalent to the reverse of the parenting plan one would do for a divorce just to ensure that Kurt can legally take our daughter to the doctor and pick her up at school/daycare without me. I guess having his name on the birth certificate isn’t enough.

A couple days after our visit to the lawyer one of our many pregnant friends was sent to the hospital for bed rest so that the doctors can stop her contractions. At the time she was 31 weeks along with twins. Apparently her body thinks the babies are ready to come out - so far the doctors have been able to convince her body otherwise. Unfortunately she missed her own baby shower that was on Saturday. Hang in there M! Maybe we’ll wind up delivering together.

On Friday I had a doctor appointment, and I have another one this week (later today). As of last Friday I weigh in at 171 pounds and the baby has rotated to the head down – ready for birthing position. And her heart rate has slowed from the 140’s to 130’s - a good sign that she’s maturing properly.

I finally gave the doctor a copy of my birth plan. He said it was a great birth plan and that I should be a stand-up comedian. He also said that he and the nurses will make sure to stay clear of my hands. The only comments he had (other than the humor) was that the oral vitamin K that I would prefer doesn’t work. I had found a couple of sites that mentioned babies being more prone to childhood Leukemia after the vitamin K shots, but because they weren’t official scientific sites that I would give absolute trust I didn’t bring up that question. I had made my decision just because those sites raised the question and because oral drops seem a lot friendlier than shots.

The eye goop they put on newborns isn’t optional in Washington State. Apparently all doctors and midwives must administer the eye drops which are an antibiotic that help reduce the occurrence of blindness due to picking up bacteria and viruses on the way out of the birth canal (specifically gonorrhea and chlamydia). The odd thing to me is they do this even if the baby was born via cesarean. Anyway they don’t use Silver Nitrate any longer so it doesn’t burn or irritate quite so much.

The last thing the doctor commented on was the Hepatitis B vaccination. They no longer use vaccinations that contain thimerosal/mercury.

Kurt’s “New dad’s class” was supposed to be on August 8th, but he didn’t go. It was his idea to sign up for that class in the first place, but he talked himself out of going. He figured as soon as he walked into the class with his motorcycle helmet the guys would tell him, “Oh you’ll have to give that up”. I guess he has already had a coworker talk to him about it and was amazed that I hadn’t *made* Kurt sell his toys, like I’m going to tell him what he can an can’t do with his own money or say he can’t have his one hobby.

I’m a little disappointed that he didn’t go because I was hoping that it would be a helpful class and make him a little less stressed about being a dad. What am I going to do though, scold him for not taking the class that was his idea to begin with? Anyway I think he might be doing better with the idea of having full control over a tiny human on his own. The other day he told me he was glad about the timing of her due date. I asked him why and he said, “Because she’ll be a week old when she gets to see her first motorcycle race with me.” – Awww that’s so cute (I almost cried). He added that she wouldn’t be able to see that far yet, so I told him he’ll just have to bring the TV closer

I know it’s just horrible that he isn’t talking about reading to her as part of quality time with dad, but at least it’s not “Baby Einstein“.

Yesterday I made stuffed bell peppers. I specify bell peppers because I occasionally (twice) make Chile Rellenos as well. I have a few dishes that I never really make the same way twice and stuffed bell peppers is one of them. Here is the basic recipe:

Four bell peppers
One can of diced tomatoes (14 ounce)
One can of black beans (14 ounce)
One can of salsa (4 ounce? - very small) or make a little of your own
A couple small slices of Monterey Jack cheese
Sour cream

Mix the tomatoes and beans together and stuff into peppers. Add a couple teaspoons of salsa and a couple slices of cheese in each pepper. You can either place the peppers in a crock pot and have dinner ready right after work or put in the oven at about 400 degrees Fahrenheit for about 45 minutes (I place the peppers in a enamel coated cast iron Dutch oven). Serve with a dollop of sour cream. Depending on the size of the peppers they may not be fully stuffed with just those ingredients and this is where the changes take place.

One time I made this dish and added some polenta. It was edible but I wasn’t impressed – never bought the stuff again. Another time I had some extra frozen corn from another dish I had recently made and so I added that. With both of those variants, Kurt took little notice. Last night I made it and cut up a couple carrots – he freaked out. “You added carrots!” he says with disgust. He likes carrots. I guess he felt they don’t belong in this dish at all! He acted like I may as well have served live chickens.

On Friday, the BMW dealership called him in the late afternoon to let him know they fixed his motorcycle. If he went down there picked it up and came all the way back home we wouldn’t be able to eat diner until 8:30 at the earliest, and that’s assuming Friday traffic isn’t too bad. I asked him what he wanted to do. I suggested that I could follow him in my truck. He said no because he would be in the carpool lane (they gave him a loaner bike) and I would be stuck in regular traffic, so he came up with a plan. He told me he would go down, get the bike, and then call me when he’s about to leave so that I could take off from home and meet him about halfway for dinner out. That sounded good to me. He gave me the time frame for when I should be getting his call and as he’s leaving to get his bike he says sternly, “Now when I call just get in your truck and go. No, oh I had to go to the bathroom, feed the bird…” Raised eyebrow - Excuse me? When did I become his teenage daughter? And who is it that routinely makes us late for things? “Ok dad” I answered. He became all huffy and said, “Fine I’ll just come all the way back home and we can eat late.” He called me and we met halfway – no big deal. I even went to the bathroom AFTER he called. *eye roll*

I didn’t get any breakfast before leaving for our first baby class on Saturday so I brought a banana and an applesauce cup to eat on the way. I finished the banana and put the peel into the trash bag. Yes, I actually keep a trash bag in my truck. As soon as the peel is in the trash Kurt says with an authoritative voice, “Make sure to throw that trash out when we get back or you’ll have fruit flies in here.” What!?! Again with this micromanagement attitude? With one eyebrow raised, I saluted him – actual salute not the one-fingered kind. This is the second time he’s talked to me like that. What are you practicing your parenting skills on me?

I really hope that “New dad’s” class he’s going to take soon helps calm him down. And if Sophia is anything like me, I hope he realizes quickly that the micromanagement crap will get him NOWHERE after about age three, if anything it’ll work against him. Wish us luck - we’re going to need it!

A few weeks ago Kurt asked if I wanted to play City of Heroes. I did, but I decided that I wanted to play in the room where I already had my laptop set up. I logged into the game and Kurt demanded that move into the same room with him. “Why?” I dared to ask. He said, and I quote, “So I can tell you what to do.”

Kurt first realized his Super Nerf Powers after nearly castrating a friend with a smelt net as a child. His friend was up in a tree retrieving a soccer ball and Kurt thought it would be funny to blindly poke up through the bushes. On the first shot he hit his friend right in the nuts, and with the second he hit him in the eye. Thankfully Kurt isn’t just dangerous to others. He continually complains about the dullness of our knives. He can’t cut shit with them and thus all sharp and normally deadly objects are safe in his hands.

A few weeks ago Kurt came running to me in utter disbelief as his index finger spurted blood like an anime cartoon. He had cut himself on the tin-foil cover of a yogurt cup, and as if that weren’t amazing proof of his unusual Super Nerf Power a few days later he had yet another incident. He was cooking, which is usually safe considering all of the hot burners and sharp implements of death, but this time he was up against a very blunt potato. He was using a knife with his thumb on top of the handle and cutting a potato with a down and forward motion. As he pushed down on a thin slice a sliver formed on the potato and on the forward sawing like motion he proceeded to shove said sliver under his thumbnail. He literally had to use tweezers to remove the potato sliver from under his thumb as if it were a wood sliver or metal filing and after doing so it began seeping blood. In case you missed that, a potato drew blood.

We didn’t do anything grand this year. Not that we ever do anything over the top for New Years, but this year was much more mild than usual. We aren’t normally in Washington for New Years; generally we’re still in Kurt’s home area and spend the New Year with his childhood friends. We still had fun. The night started with Kurt and I stopping at the Olive Garden to put our names on the list and grab table pager, then we were off to pick up our friends who lived nearby. It went slightly sour when the table pager started to sing to us indicating that we had gone outside the range. We can now relate to the distance called 100 yards. We had our friends meet us at the restaurant, and after an forty-five minutes we got our table. I had a martini that got me completely giddy, and when I say ‘a’ martini I do in fact mean one single martini of ordinary size and strength. So while I was having fun being drunk off my ass Kurt and our friends were having fun watching me just giggle at every little thing. We were going to go out to a movie afterwards but it took too long at the restaurant, so we went to our friend’s house and played Balderdash. I love the game. In the original game one person reads a word off the card and the others write down a definition to try and bluff the others into thinking it’s the real thing. The person that read the word writes down the real definition. All definitions get read and each person tries to guess the real one. In the version our friend’s have they also have movie titles, dates, initials, and names. The last round was a date. Kurt won the game and then announced that he knew right off that all the dates were never about big events or famous people. He started to go through the box in order reading each date and what happened. After the third card I grabbed the box and pulled a card from the middle with the attitude of, “I’m going to end this now!” I looked at both sides before saying, “Ok, November 16, 1960, and remember it’s never anything big or anyone famous”. “I don’t know” he says. I answer, “Clark Gable died.” After that we played a game of poker and I won.

I haven’t been keeping up with the news lately, so I only just found out yesterday that ex-President Ford died on the 27th and today I heard that Saddam Hussein was hung yesterday. Today as Kurt and I head out to go shopping for a new living room chair to place next to our couch, “The Laura” I noticed that the a flag at half mast. Given the latest news I wondered who was it flying for the ex president or Saddam. Don’t scoff at me, just twenty years ago Saddam was our ally against Iran. Twenty years ago it didn’t matter that Saddam was an assassin who killed his way up to the top of the Iraq government or that the US knew Iraq was using chemical weapons both against Iran and to punish Kurdish insurgents. It wasn’t really cool with US citizens to support a terrorist, and the government denied it at the time, but with Iraq being 80% Shiite I don’t think the Sunni Leader would have had a chance without a little help from his friends.

In the ‘90s Saddam became a bad guy again. He accused Kuwait of illegally slant-drilling petroleum across Iraq’s border and so Iraq invaded. The US feared for Saudi Arabia because they are an ally of the US, but mostly because we like their oil, so Bush Sr. tried to pursued the public to go to war. It’s not ok for Iraq to violate Kuwaiti territorial integrity, but in a few more years (2003) it’ll be ok for us to invade Iraq’s boundaries for preemptive purposes. Many cried, “No Blood For Oil”. Bush Sr. pulled the biochemical weapons card and the attempting to build atomic bombs card. It wasn’t until the Kuwaiti government paid for the Nurse Nayirah ads in which a nurse described Iraqi soldiers pulling babies out of incubators and letting them die on the floor that everyone said ok fine let’s go to war.

Now the US government claims moral superiority over Iraq even though as a civilian anyone who not only has knowledge of a crime but funds the criminal is an accessory to said crime. So for moral reasons very similar to the ones daddy Bush used, let’s wage war! Does this make any fucking sense? With nothing but a document stating that there are “weapons of mass destruction in Iraq”, which is known by the government before the start of the war to have been falsified, let us go to war because we can’t find Waldo in Afghanistan. Why if it’s so important to bring Saddam to ‘justice’ don’t we just go to the UN and start filing all the papers for a war crimes / human rights abuses trial? The penalty for that is still death. His underlings will get trials and then Iraq could have their civil wars without our soldiers getting in the way. – Oh wait there’s still that pesky fact of us having known all along what was going on but didn’t give a shit at the time factor. If helping Saddam in the 80’s was the right thing to do then we really should be flying the flag for our dear friend Saddam.

And in case you were wondering we did find the perfect chair to go with the Laura. It’s called the Farris. We also got an ottoman called the Tosha.

“Iraq: Declassified Documents of U.S. Support for Hussein”
With Joyce Battle Middle East Analyst, National Security Archive at George Washington University Thursday, Feb. 27, 2003; 11 a.m. ET

“Giant Firm Parlays Political Connections Into Pr Coups” Marcy Gordon AP Sunday, February 02, 1992

“Photos don’t show buildup” St. Petersburg Times - St. Petersburg, Fla. Author: JEAN HELLER Date: Jan 6, 1991

THE STOVEPIPE
How conflicts between the Bush Administration and the intelligence community marred the reporting on Iraq’s weapons.
by SEYMOUR M. HERSH
Issue of 2003-10-27
Posted 2003-10-20

Mohamed ElBaradei, publicly described the fraud at his next scheduled briefing to the U.N. Security Council, in New York on March 7th. The story slowly began to unravel.

Vice-President Cheney responded to ElBaradei’s report mainly by attacking the messenger. On March 16th, Cheney, appearing on “Meet the Press,” stated emphatically that the United States had reason to believe that Saddam Hussein had reconstituted his nuclear-weapons program. He went on, “I think Mr. ElBaradei frankly is wrong. And I think if you look at the track record of the International Atomic Energy Agency on this kind of issue, especially where Iraq’s concerned, they have consistently underestimated or missed what it was Saddam Hussein was doing. I don’t have any reason to believe they’re any more valid this time than they’ve been in the past.”

Two or three years ago Kurt and I were in the car on our way to visit some friends. I don’t remember what the topic of the conversation was but as usual after Kurt has made his point about something he said, “But the key is…” and continued with further analysis of his own statements. After that he said, “But the real key is…” and on this occasion I had enough. I was thoroughly annoyed because the whole time I thought I had be listening to the real key, so I said, “tell me, what’s the REAL fucking key?” And we both started laughing. We (meaning I) told all our friends and everyone made sure to point out every instance of Kurt saying, “But the key is…” or waiting for him to finish telling what the key is and then ask, “so what’s the real key?” Yes, we are all a bunch of asses.

This Christmas I bought Kurt a foosball table. We were in Costco one day seeking gift ideas for my parents when Kurt’s eyes locked onto his future mistress (Not an actual person just another object that will take more of his attention away from me much like the motorcycles.) I bought it for him the next week and took it to a friend’s house for safe keeping, but because this was something Kurt was really drooling over he had to make comments like, “Don’t look at me and give it away, but if you aren’t going to get the foosball table for me for Christmas we should go buy it soon since Costco always changes their stock.” So in order to through him off the trail I had to get Kurt two or three smaller gifts that were expensive enough to make him think that’s all he would get.

A few days before Christmas there was a raffle at work and I won a 32” LCD TV. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with it since Kurt and I bought an LCD TV just two months ago, but as soon as I got it into my truck I got an idea. I got back to my desk and immediately called my friend who works in a different department, “Don’t tell your husband, because he’ll tell Kurt”. She had to hang up quickly to call her hubby because she had already emailed him about it. Whew! That was close. I got the TV home and took it up stairs to the spare room. When Kurt got home from work I had him get the wrapping paper down from the rafters in the garage and I wrapped up the TV. When I was done Kurt looked into the room and the first thing he said was, “Well it can’t be an LCD TV because we just bought one.” He’s absolutely correct. It’s just not possible.

On Christmas eve I went to out friend’s house to pick up the foosball table and left it locked up in the back of my truck. I went upstairs and found an old ring box, a gift bag, and a DVD case. I put the key to my bicycle lock in the ring box and wrapped it up. I put the key to my truck in a plastic bag and then into the gift bag and topped it with some crumpled wrapping paper, and then I taped the key to my truck topper to the inside of the empty DVD case and wrapped it.

We usually open our presents at midnight on Christmas eve, but Kurt didn’t want to stay up till midnight and I told him that his gift needed to be opened that night, so we opened them at about ten. He carried the LCD down and I brought out his smaller gifts. I told him he had to open all in a specific order starting with the large one. He of course has to make several guesses before opening anything. He’s great at spoiling gifts. He shook the TV. Lifted and rattled it. Set it down. Walked around it and finally said, “All I can come up with is LCD TV”. He was so puzzled. He took off the paper and then looked up at me, “You just used a TV box, right?” Nope that’s the real thing. He was so confused. After he got all the paper off I told him that I had won it.

The next one he unwrapped and said, “Should you be getting on one knee for this?” I told him no, “Just open it”. Then he said, “It’s too small for the key to an MV Augusta.” The fact that he knew it had to be a key if it wasn’t a ring is just uncanny. He opened it and glared at me. I had to pull the note down that was stuck in the top of the box for him. It read, “The Key”. There were no comments or guesses before opening the gift bag gift. The note was taped to this key. It read, “The Real Key.” Then he began to lecture me as he held what was clearly a wrapped DVD case about my gag falling through because the motorcycle announcer that also uses the phrase, “The key is…” was from AMA races and not MotoGP and World Superbike blah blah blah. I told him to just open that damn thing. He unwrapped it and saw that the case was from a bird training video, “so what’s really in this?” He opened it and saw…another key. On this key I had a note that said, “But the real key is…” I had to tell him to go use the last two keys to get his present. At that point he knew exactly what it was.