Last night I installed a bunch of software updates on my desktop computer. When they finished, the computer needed to be restarted. It gave me two options in the dialogue box: Restart or Shut Down. I looked to my left, where Z was sitting swathed in a quilt and looking adorable. He had just asked me what I wanted to do tonight, now that we'd finished eating dinner.

I clicked "Shut Down" and said, "Let's do something together."


He huddled himself down under the quilt and said, "I'm scared!"

So we snuggled on the couch to overcome our mutual fear of A World Where The Computer Was Off.


(Of course, all three laptops we owned were still on, but we won't get into that.)

I am still trying to find The Perfect Photo Hosting Service.
I have two candidates currently in the running.

1) Flickr. I have just posted a bunch of pictures of drunk coworkers there.


2) Photobucket. My 4th of July pics of my baby sisters visiting are posted there.



Other news is scanty, but I did just pull a ton of weeds out of the garden and plant another planting of lettuce, peas, and radishes, because why not?

I wasn't kidding when I said that t-shirt about blogging has totally backfired.


I had my iTunes on random (ok not totally random, but as close as I get) and this song came on. I have a lot of random bits of Billy Bragg on there, and this one is somewhat typical.

I am a member of a union, for the first time in my life. Hotel Workers' Local 4, a subsidiary of a garment worker's union based out of Rochester-- of all things.

Now, thanks to the union, I have subsidized health insurance and have a procedure to ensure that I cannot be terminated without cause, cannot have my hours changed without going through proper processes, cannot be forced to work overtime (in theory), and am paid at a base rate much higher than the federally-mandated minimum for tipped positions. (In fact, if you are curious, my base hourly rate is ten cents above minimum wage, which is almost double what most bartenders make on the clock.)

However. The union is largely useful to me simply as a deterrent. When they adjusted my schedule without my permission, the union steward only had to say, "Well, when I spoke to [the union rep] he did say that that's illegal, but I wanted to talk to you before initiating anything," to the scheduling manager and she was falling all over herself to explain.

But when they actually screwed one of my coworkers on a seniority issue and she legitimately filed a grievance, it took the union rep two months to so much as respond.

These people get seven bucks a week from me, and from every single one of my coworkers, and are they there for us if we actually have a problem?

Not really.

But Buffalo's such a big pro-union town, and all through all my history classes I was always so inspired to read about the important fights the labor unions engaged in for the rights of workers...

Sigh. History classes make it so much easier to label The Good Guys vs. The Bad Guys; it's sort of painful to wonder what the history books will label us with, and what they'll simply forget.

So I just went down to the open skate at the Rainbow Rink in NT. There's a roller derby league forming, and somebody's starting a Buffalo chapter.

All-girl competitive amateur roller derby.

I had never heard of roller derby. Z had, apparently, and was really excited. But, he's a boy. However, his favorite thing to do is to egg people on so they do dumb things, so he's been all over this idea of me joining.

I can't skate for shit.
But everyone there was remarkably awesome.

I may have to do this.

Z's just excited because he wants an excuse to buy himself roller skates. Given that he's been looking for an excuse for over a year now, I have to admit that he's likely to be serious. Not that I tell him how to spend his money, but I do tend to roll my eyes over his propensity for buying things he winds up not using.

So, baby's getting himself a pair of roller skates. Me, I'm trying to convince myself that I need a new self-destructive hobby. How bad could it be? I already run into people for a living...

Queen City Roller Girls:

How awesome is that? Potentially, very.