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About Ramblings of a Hopeless Khowaga

Welcome to my Web site. My name is Chris, and I’ll be your host. I live in Austin, Texas, with my partner, Ray, and our child dog, Mocha. You can read more about me, learn 100 random things about me, and if you’re wondering what the heck a khowaga is, click here. Feel free to browse, read, and leave comments!

Tag: ‘thanksgiving’



My Life in Photographs

Wednesday, November 25th, 2009

So, I haven’t posted recently.  Well, here’s the story: on the way home from Atlanta, I was kidnapped by Tuareg nomads who happened to be roaming the luggage carousel at the Atlanta Airport for no particular reason, and I was held for a ransom of three thousand kilograms of gummy bears and a crate’s worth of the 1994 swimsuit edition of Sports Illustrated.  That having been completed …

Ah, who’m I kidding.  I got a cold in Atlanta that knocked me on my back for two days, and then I got to fly to Boston at the ass crack of dawn on Saturday morning for four solid days of meetings, networking, and restaurant food.

Finally, on Monday, I managed to get out of the hotel for a whole two hours to wander up the street to Copley Place, Boston Common, and the Old Granary Burial Ground, home to such American Revolutionary Heroes as Paul Revere, Samuel Adams, and the parents of Benjamin Franklin (who is, I believe, buried in Philadelphia).

Here are some photos from my wanderings:

Trinty Church

Repetition

Alleyway

Berries

Old Granary Burial Ground

Old Granary Burial Ground

Happy Thanksgiving, y’all!

Exercising My Right to be Lazy

Sunday, November 30th, 2008

‘Tis the Sunday after Thanksgiving and all through the house
Not a creature is stirring, especially not my lazy dog
The stockings have been hung by the TV with care
Because this is Texas and we don’t have a fireplace — get real!

And enough of the writing in verse.  It’s gotten chilly down here in America’s south, although it’s not as bad as, say, up north in DC or Seattle or Ireland, but let’s be perfectly honest: I’ll bet I can deal with the heat better than those guys can (except maybe Brian since he grew up in Atlanta).  Challenge extended, I’m going to exercise my right to sit here and be a lazy bum on the sofa today.  We have a free extended cable “preview” weekend, so Ray and I have watched nearly the entire first season of True Blood and are now catching up on Dexter.  Or we will whenever Ray gets up.

Thanksgiving this year was a small affair — just the two of us and my parents, who brought their photos from their recent “If it’s Tuesday, it must be Belgium” trip through Europe.  Ray chided me slightly for critiquing my father’s photography skills (or lack thereof) but, honestly, how many times can you shoot through your bus window with flash … when you’re using a digital camera … before it occurs to you that maybe you ought to turn the flash off?

This year, the menu consisted of ham (I’m ambivalent about turkey; Ray doesn’t care for it, and my parents always have one on Christmas if they’re jonesing for a tryptophan fix), cornbread stuffing, sweet potato puree, mashed potatoes, and asparagus.  We ate outside–Thanksgiving purists, recoil in horror!  It was 80 degrees on T day this year, and I suggested that we eat on the back patio because, after the stress involved in getting the damned thing built, I kind of feel as though we ought to use it as much as possible.

I insisted on going to the outlet malls down the street (they’re only two miles away) when they opened at midnight.  For those of you not in the US, I don’t know if you can appreciate the cultural phenomenon that is Black Friday.  Frankly, I was a little astounded at the number of people who showed up at midnight, and even more astounded by the number of people who brought small, tired, cranky, whining children with them.  Isn’t the whole point of hitting the Black Friday sales to buy gifts FOR your children?  What good does it to to wake them up in the middle of the night to bring them with you??

Ray and I went together because our primary objective really wasn’t gifts for each other.  We are going on a family visit to Korea in January to visit my brother and sister-in-law (along with my parents), and, based on the advice of everyone I know who’s been to Korea in the winter, I wanted to get thermal underwear, which was on sale at the Jockey store. 

That mission accomplished, we hit a few other places–Brooks Brothers was having a sale.  I have long coveted Brooks Brothers trousers.  I own many BB shirts, and they’re the easiest damned things to take care of.  You can practically wad them up into a ball at the bottom of your suitcase and, as long as you hang them up when you get to your hotel, they’ll be free of wrinkles by morning.  I hate ironing in hotel rooms — they never make the cord long enough and the ironing board tends to leave very little room for one to actually stand in front of it and … well, let’s just say I got my trousers.  Three pair, in fact :mrgreen:

Ray actually got up again at 4 am to go hit a bunch of other stores when they opened.  I slept right through it.

It’s been a fairly quiet long weekend — after what has been a hellish fall, I’m kind of enjoying it, actually.  Yesterday we put up some of the Christmas decorations, and I guess we need to decide how much we’re going to put up outside today or put the lights away. 

Oh, and my car is now overdue for its annual inspection.  Seriously –this is earthshattering stuff here, ain’t it?

Other than that.  I hope your weekend(s) have been fun and exciting or lowkey and relaxing, whichever your hearts desire!

It’s a Small World …

Friday, November 21st, 2008

Let me get this out of the way: Delta Air Lines is not my favorite airline, and my flight yesterday failed to change that perception in any way.  It was the second occasion on which I have booked myself a “direct” flight (i.e., one that stops at Point B but theoretically continues with the same plane from Point A through Point B to Point C) on Delta that somehow magically involved a change of aircraft.  

This time, I was relaxed and sitting in my seat while everyone else got off of the plane when we arrived in Atlanta.  After all, I was already on my connecting aircraft, right?  As the last few people were struggling with their bags, the flight attendant got on the PA and announced, “For your information, passengers continuing on this flight, this is not your aircraft.”  Normally I’m a little more reserved, but I did growl at the perky lady as I got off the plane with my own bags, “You know, that information might have been useful to have a little earlier.”

So, it was a mad dash to my new gate, whereupon I discovered that the flight couldn’t board because they were waiting on the flight attendants to show up from the old plane.  And they took their sweet time, sauntering up, chatting with friends, having stopped for food, etc.  I don’t begrudge them the right to eat, but I do think that there’s something fucked up about Delta scheduling.

And so I struggled with my bags onto the new airplane, sat down, and sent a text message off to Will to let him know the flight was running late, as I was supposed to meet him for dinner and drink he owed me.  My seatmate arrived while I was typing, so I got up, let him sit down, and resumed the message.  Passengers finished loading, and we began pushing back from the gate, at which I turned to the window and got a look at the man sitting next to me for the first time.

“Tom?” I asked in amazement.

Sitting right next to me was one of the few coworkers who kept me sane at my first “real” job when I lived in DC … eleven years ago.  We chatted a bit – he was coming out of his new association’s massive annual convention, and he was exhausted, and I have to admit that once we got past, “How have you been?” there wasn’t a lot to say.  Tom and I parted ways at the airport–it was one of those random bump-ins where you don’t really feel the need to ask for someone’s contact information because you aren’t really planning to keep in touch.  Totally weird.

The funny thing is that this was the second random encounter I’ve had — at the conference in Houston last week, our booth was visited by the mother of a roommate that I had at the same time.  Weirder and weirder.

And now, I’m counting the minutes until the business begins (40 as of now).  I have managed yet again to schedule my time so tightly that I have virtually no free time while I’m here.  I probably shouldn’t do this to myself, because I know a number of people in town and would like to have time to see them all, but this conference is always at a terrible time (the weekend before Thanksgiving) and is hard to schedule around because of the number of corollary events associated with it.  Not to mention, this year there’s a few of those corollary events that I’m actually responsible for.

Oh, well.  No rest for the wicked, I suppose.  And now I’m off to find something to bring to my luncheon meeting … the one where they’re not actually providing lunch :/

Sniff.

Tuesday, October 28th, 2008

 

I took this photo of my parents’ dog, Lonnie, on the 12th–a little over two weeks ago.

Lonnie was almost 17, and she’s been sick a lot lately.  So, when my e-mail chimed and I saw a message from my father titled “Lonnie,” I knew what it was going to say before I opened it.  Sadly, this time, I wasn’t wrong.

She was one of the last links with my childhood–we got her Thanksgiving of my senior year in high school.  I really never lived with her, but she was always there when I went home to visit, and she was always very happy to see me.

In all honesty, I’m not sure she even knew who I was the last few years–until my parents moved to Texas last spring, I only saw her once or twice a year.  She’d lost her hearing and her sight wasn’t so great, and lately I’ve been the nasty guy who had to clip her nails (something she thoroughly hated).

It also seemed like my mother had been preparing herself for a while for the eventuality.  Every time I left, she told me to say goodbye because, “You might not see her again.”  Realistically, Lonnie was old and had massive health problems. Last week she had a kidney infection, and the vet suggested that she had “canine cognitive disorder,” which I think means that she was senile.  This week, the vet reported that her liver and pancreas were shutting down.  So, it wasn’t unexpected that the end was near.

All of which goes to explain that I should have known it was coming.  And I did.

And I still have a lump in the back of my throat.

Ready. Set. Shop.

Friday, November 24th, 2006

Thanksgiving has come and gone, and that can only mean one thing: it’s Black Friday!

Black Friday, for the uninitiated, is the day after Thanksgiving, traditionally the busiest shopping day of the year. All of the stores open at ridiculous hours (5 am seems to be the time of choice this year) and discount special items to prices you only dream of in your wildest fantasies (if that’s the sort of thing you fantasize about).

The problem with Black Friday is twofold. First: if you want to get a popular item for a low, low price, you pretty much have to not go to bed the night before, but instead go line up outside the store that carries it — and around your normal bedtime would be a good timeframe to get there.

Second, there’s usually only about four of whatever it is you want to purchase in stock, so if the store opens at 5, and you arrive at 5:02, you’re pretty much out of luck.

Then, of course, there’s the crowd factor.

Ray and I got up at 7 (late risers, we) and did a couple hours of moderate shopping. I am not a PowerShopper – Ray and a friend of his once spend 7 hours at IKEA. I get impatient after about 15 minutes, unless I am in The Mood To Shop (which I’m usually not). I tend to be a guy shopper: I walk in, find the first item that remotely resembles what I’m looking for, sometimes I try it on (more likely if I’m with Ray), purchase it and leave. Only when I’m in weird bazaars in far off places of the world is this not the case, and even then I tend to max out after about an hour.

I did fairly respectable today – I managed to purchase items (a couple of them were for Ray, which made it interesting, especially when Best Buy placed my purchases in a nice, clear plastic bag that hid nothing). However, that’s what the spare tire compartment is for …

My friend Richard’s boyfriend, Miles, is the manager at a local Toys ‘R Us – when we drove by this morning, there were cars backed out onto the main road just trying to get into the parking lot. Miles is so high strung anyway, I can’t even imagine what kind of mental state he must have been in by the end of his shift.

Anyway. Here’s hoping your Thanksgiving was a success, and that you don’t have to spend too much time in line today at all the sales!

P.S. I got another nice nod from Best Gay Blogs about my Thanksgiving post from Tuesday. It must have been the bit about Rachael Ray’s contract with Satan that did it ;) Thanks guys!

 

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