I'm following the Rockies game on ESPN gamecast right now. I'm really grateful for this feature, but there are definitely things that bug me about it. The most notable at the moment involves statistics for the on-deck batters. The gamecast is supposed to display the on-deck hitter, and what they have done so far in the game (i.e. Todd Helton 1 for 3). The problem is that when gamecast runs slow, sometimes the batters statistics will be updated before they show the process of him going through an at bat, and I will know before I see the succession of pitches and stuff whether or not he makes an out. This takes away from the illusion that I'm following the game as it progresses. My life is ruined.
Mostly I'm just angry that MLB and the NFL have forbidden local radio stations from streaming games. I used to be able to at least listen to football and baseball games live online. Eh, I guess I'll stick with what I can get.
Daisy hasn't had an accident for awhile, but we're still having a hard time trusting her again.
Anna's computer is causing her fits. I think the biggest problem is a worn cord on her power adapter. I'm going to call Dell tonight. Her computer should still be under warranty.
I'm hungry.
Camouflage Taz boxers.
Apparently everyone's technology is going nuts. I guess my mom's computer fried too.
Bobbie came by the office today asking for a replacement lightbulb that she said she would replace herself. I went with her because I needed to see which kind of bulb she needed. It's a good thing I did, because none of her lights were working. Her bedroom, livingroom, and kitchen lights were all non-functioning. I tried flipping the breakers, but I called the electrician after that didn't work. He came and the first thing he did was try the breakers again. It worked that time. I felt stupid. But then we flipped on one of the switches again and heard this horrible crackling in the wall. It turns out Bobbie had a bad switch that was throwing her breaker. So even though I had tripped the breaker, it just blew it again. The electrician shocked himself pretty good replacing the switch. You'd think they would be more careful.
Daulton drove my absolutely insane today. Apparently, he didn't take his ritalin, and you could tell. He fought me over everything I told him to do. He kept trying to come up with an excuse to come to our apartment and see Anna (thirsty, had to use the bathroom, had to tell Anna something...). I wanted to strangle the kid.
Apartment 105: Mike
Mike, I would guess, is in his early sixties. He has had a couple strokes and requires at least a cane to walk. Sometimes he goes all out and uses one of those fancy roller walkers with a seat in it. The strokes also mean that he talks very slowly and a little slurred, but he's relatively easy to understand if you pay attention. He's got white hair. When I first met him, he just had a mustache, but now he has added a goatee. He's got a tattoo on his arm that almost makes me wonder if he were a prisoner of war or something. The first time I met Mike, he told me that I wouldn't see much of him because "I like living here, but I don't like staying here." He spends all day either visiting his mother or selling pocket knives at flea markets and the like. It's true that I don't see him much, but when he does come by the office he always stops in to chat about something. A couple times he has shown me a few of his pocket knives as well. He usually has half a dozen or so lining his pockets.
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