...to say the 'I'

I decree: Monday shall be the day of lists.

1. Replace some lightbulbs. I realize that replacing light bulbs is a particularly easy chore, but both of the bulbs in my hallway have blown, now, and with all the other stuff I have to take care of, this is one thing that I'd just like someone to do.

2. Take care of the car. There are now three problems with the car (though I do love it so). I have an appointment to take it in for servicing tomorrow, but again--it would be nice to have someone else do it.

3. Fix the toilet. The toilet is not broken yet, but it is on the verge of breaking, I am sure of it. I can do very simple repairs, but I'm bad at diagnosing plumbing problems.

4. Take out the air conditioner. For weeks, I delayed putting my A/C in the window, because it was up in the attic and I didn't think I could carry it down myself. Well, the weather got bad enough that I bit the bullet and managed it, and I was pretty proud of myself. It worked for about 24 hours, then I heard a big crack, I turned it off, and it won't go on now. Now I just want someone to take it out of my window, because it's not doing any good there.

5. Seriously, enough is enough. I have fleas--again! Exactly one year ago, we got fleas, and now they're back...thanks to the neighbor's damned cat hanging out in my attic. So, please, Mr. Man, block off the cat's secret passageway, and get the bugs out!

Yes, I'm aware that this plays into gender stereotypes. First, I don't care much about such stereotypes, and second, I'd just like to have someone to help me out--I'm just tired of taking care of a household for two all by my lonesome.

[And, I took care of the fleas myself, but the cat can still get in...]

In no particular order:

1. "Abbreviated" or otherwise altered cusses. In written language (particularly on the net), I hate it when people write things like f*ck, he11, and sh-t. @$$ is particularly bad. I mean, it's not like everyone can't tell what you're saying; if you don't want to write the word, use one of the many colorful expressions, the toned-down "heck" or "shoot." The exception, of course, is direct quotes, in which the language shouldn't be changed. [expletive] is useful in this case, or even the amusing [bleep]. Just stop with the cutesy forms.

2. The new kind of TV-show advertising, in which an obnoxious piece of text pops up over the picture of whatever show is currently playing. That is, while the actually show is on, the network is also advertising! I realize that networks need to make money, but it's enough that you can't watch any channel without seeing the same two commercials for the upcoming special of the week at every break.

3. Lack of a final serial comma, i.e., "apples, bananas and pears" rather than "apples, bananas, and pears." I realize that it's AP style--I had to fight my instinct on that one for two years while working at my college newspaper--but seriously, it's ridiculous. The final comma serves a clear and important purpose: It shows that the last two items should not be grouped together. And you know what? Strunk and White* agree with me, so there.

4. Neither of my TV remotes has a "last" button. In other words, if I want to go back and forth between two channels, I have to punch it in each time, and I'm a big surfer. Yeah, and I'm that lazy.

5. Low-carb/Atkins-friendly everything.

*No, this is not a product placement.

Ack! I missed an opportunity to make a Monday list. Well, here it is, a day late:

1. Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand.
This is my second time through, and while I loved it the first time through, I get it so much more this time.

2. The Kinder, Gentler Military: How Political Correctness Affects Our Ability to Win Wars, Stephanie Gutmann.
Provocative and fascinating.

3. Absolutely American: Four Years at West Point, David Lipsky.
I picked this up because I became fascinated with the USMA last fall when I attended a conference there. While the individual sections are well written, I don't like the overall structure of the book; it's very choppy. I find myself skipping ahead just to find the conclusion of a particular story. But it's worth it just to get an idea of daily cadet life. Damn, are they impressive.

These two have been on my list forever:

4. Militant Islam Reaches America, Daniel Pipes.

5. Why America Slept, Gerald Posner.

NB: Though I'm linking to sites where these books can be purchased, I'm not getting any money for it (too bad!). I just thought it might be nice to be able to see them--and to be able to judge them by their covers.

Recently, I haven't been inclined to list much on Mondays, but something happened today that inspired me to write up this two-item "list."

1. A couple of weeks ago, I was in line at Starbucks for my Frappuccino fix when I realized that I had left in my car the two other dollars necessary to pay for the drink. There was a line, but I resigned myself to having to wait behind people who would probably be extremely inefficient in their ordering technique.* When I returned from the car, the gentleman who had been behind me in line (and still hadn't ordered) shooed me in front of him, despite my protestations: "Just because you had to run out to your car doesn't mean you should lose your place!" I thanked him, ordered, and happily slurped down my Mocha with a shot of Creme de Menthe well before the party who would have been in front of me managed to decide whether they wanted a tall or a grande.

2. Alex told me he'd be sending some stuff home...I should have realized that when Alex talks about some stuff, he means a lot of stuff. This morning there was a knocking on my door, and a postal truck on the street. I dashed into my robe and down the stairs to my front door (I live on the second floor of a house), and found an extremely sweet mailman. He gave me the delivery confirmation to sign while he went to his truck to haul the huge black footlocker to the front door. "I know where this is from," he said, a smile in his voice. "I just retired from the military." Looking in, he could see the staircase, and the footlocker still in his arms, asked if I'd like him to carry it up. At 5'9'', I was taller than him by three or four inches, but, while I can carry a lot, I knew that this "parcel" would be a struggle for me. I accepted, and while he skipped up my stairs and slid the footlocker on to the hallway floor, he asked, "when is he coming home?" "In a few months." I thanked him, and he was out the door before I could process it allâ€"before I could think about all I would have said, had I been in a better state of mind. Words like, "thank you, sir, for all you've done." All I could do was shut my yellow-ribboned door.

* Yes, when alone, I can be extremely impatient. I'm pretty good at not showing it, though.