Katrina has finished her housesitting stint, and has informed me she has no interest in getting a jack russell puppy. Too high maintenance. Though it seems the Belgian shepherd thought he was an occasional lapdog, too. I didn’t get to spend that much time with them, but it seems like she had her hands full.
We got water back last Tuesday, so I didn’t quite go full-on survivalist mode. The weather has “warmed” (it’s only freezing now!), so we should be all right, at least for a while.
I’ve been seeing some response from my job hunt, and I’ve got a chance at a clerk position at the nearby liquor store. Not the most glamorous job, but it’ll pay the bills until I get something better. I first have to take a Training for Alcohol Professionals or “TAP” class (see what they did there?) to learn the basics of alcohol management, which is presumably “don’t sell booze to drunk people or 18-year-olds”. Between GameStop and the old movie theater job, I’m pretty used to turning away (sometimes angry) customers for not having valid ID. At least at a liquor store, people are expecting to be ID’ed. Not to get on my soapbox again, but it still grinds my gears how much parents whine about having to show an ID to buy their 12-year-old Devil May Cry, when they would hang us by our name tag lanyards if said 12-year-old just came home with it one day.
Of course, the big event this weekend was the double whammy of Katrina’s birthday and the Super Bowl. Taking a quick break from the needy doggie brigade, Katrina and I went up to her Dad’s for dinner, where she got her favorite, moose stroganoff, as well as one of Buff’s famous cakes. Sunday, we took part in the great American tradition of watching the Super Bowl commercials, occasionally interrupted by a football game. I’m not a huge football guy, but I understand well enough how the game works, and I was interested to see the ’49ers win, if only to have San Francisco be the undisputed champions once again (Go Giants!). Despite their best efforts in the second half (or, more accurately, after the power outage) that did not come to pass. Until presented with evidence to the contrary, I’m going to blame the power outage on Beyoncé and her overdone light show of a halftime.
At least they didn’t loseall the lights: in an enclosed dome, someone could have gotten hurt in the ensuing panic of pitch black. Even the ads were kind of a letdown this year; the only really good ones were the sappy tearjerkers that were trying to sell you a car (Dodge and Jeep must have the same advertising team) or a beer. The “funny” ads weren’t all that funny, and the movie promos were too short to really get a feel for what they were pitching us. Yeah, I want to see Iron Man 3, but I could have told you that before.