Lazy holiday. I spent about half of today watching documentaries on Netflix while finishing our living room curtains and doing the laundry. So inevitably, I learned quite a bit. Without getting too much into things, here is a list of a few things I learned today:

The designer of the Brooklyn Bridge never lived to see the project started and his son, who continued the project, ended up getting a very bad case of the bends from two years of building the caissons… but he didn’t die! He actually continued supervising the project from his bed, with his wife as his eyes and ears.

The New York Public Library is a larger network of branches and extensions than I ever expected including the Lincoln Center and other special interest collections that I had always thought were private or university collections.

H.H. Holmes , whose birth name was Herman Webster Mudgett, was the first serial killer in the United States. Roger swears that he became a “multi-murderer” due to his birth name.

Fingerprinting didn’t come into play for crime solving until 1903. Very hard to identify bodies.

There are a lot of people writing books about roadside attractions… and they are all experts.

Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing” has graduated to Fourth of July fireworks status.

Watching fireworks with my family on the bank over looking Poway High School, I was fist-pumping along to Lee Greenwood’s patriotic classic, “God Bless the USA” (apparently written by a guy who also wrote a knock off for our northern neighbor called “God Bless Canada”… truth according to Wikipedia) when all of a sudden Journey popped on the radio to the next set of big bangs.

I knew it had to be coming. The song has infiltrated our karaoke bars and  sports games, with the next logical stop being American icon status. But I find my self saddened by this discovery. I understand that patriotic songs are limited and no one really wants to hear the full 9 minute version of Don McLean’s “American Pie,” but seriously “Don’t Stop Believing” needs to stay in the bars with the drunk girls. I really don’t want my Bruce Springsteen, “Born in the USA” to be tainted by patriotism of the wasted masses of America. All I’m asking is please don’t call me a traitor for not singing along.

Febreze makes limited edition products.

What? Yes, it is true. Apparently, like my beer, my parent’s choice in air freshener comes in seasonal varieties. Why? I have no idea… some marketing “genius” sold the idea that people actually care if their bathrooms smell like the current season. Really? What test market proved that? Please just don’t mess with my deodorant. I really don’t want to be forced to smell like a pine tree in the winter.

I have worse carpel tunnel from using a sewing machine than I have ever had using a keyboard.

 So around noon today I found out that we had a half day at work. Somehow I totally spaced on this awesome potential for getting things done. The day just opened up for me. Since I had planned to go to the gym for lunch, I stayed a bit longer until my stomach was aching for food. Once I satisfied my body’s need for excercise and sustenance, I set to work on one of the many projects derived for being a homeowner.

Today’s project: try to finish the curtains for the living room. I set out to make curtains from scratch nearly a year ago thinking it would be easy and cheaper. Neither have been true. At this point I feel that I should have just forked over the cash to Bed, Bath and Beyond for new curtains then either alter them myself (bad idea) or pay to have them altered. Well… neither of these things will happen in the near future because at this point it is a mission. I have to finish this project.

So sewing like mad for almost three hours, I have 1) only finished two of the four panels, 2) one that is about 1 inch longer than the other and 3) carpel tunnel aching like crazy in my left wrist. I type everyday. And I admit my wrist position and posture is poor. BUT I have never felt the way I felt when sewing today. I would never make it in a textile factory. And what really kills me is that I am only halfway done.