Sunday, October 28, 2007
Well, yesterday was my 63rd birthday. I've been telling people to ignore it for the past three years because I want to be able to truthfully say, when asked my age, "I was 60 on my last birthday." People ignore my wishes and make birthday noises at me anyway. But I was watching a past episode of Pushing Daisies online this evening, and heard the voiceover describe someone as "44 years 18 months xx days yy hours" old, and I realized I could describe myself as 60 years and 36 months old - and everyone knows that past infancy it's silly to include the months. I've found my solution.
I made it downstairs in time for breakfast this morning, which included quiche, bacon, sausage, all kinds of melon and other fruits, five juices, boiled eggs, bagels, english muffins, sweet muffins, donuts, oatmeal, raw veggies, and the usual caffeines.
I was accosted across the buffet table by, um, The Sex God. He's gorgeous, piercing blue eyes, amazing body, long wavy hair, silky beard, wonderful smooth voice, and (unusual for this bunch) makes a lot of sense when he speaks. I heard someone say "Silk!" and I looked up and it was him. I about fell over. Every healthy female who'd ever attended one of his presentations is hopelessly in love with him. (Too bad I'm aware he believes in "open relationships". That's a deal breaker.) Until you hear him speak, he looks like just another sexy biker dude, what with all the leather and chains and high boots.
He wanted to compliment me on my style, my smile, the way I move, and the dress I'd been wearing the night before. I was flabbergasted, especially since I'd run down to breakfast with no makeup on - after all, who's gonna see me that matters, right? I blushed, laughed, and smiled, and he said "That's it! That's the smile!"
He invited me to join the party sub-group, "Hell's Ms", that he could tell that I was a partier (partyer?). I said no, I'm not a partier at all. He said that depends on how you define party. A party can be two people and a bottle of wine, or fifty people and conversation, and that the main difference between Hell's Ms and other Mensa party groups is that Hell's Ms remember the next morning what happened the night before. I said, oh, ok, that does sound like my kind of party. Then I smiled and walked away.
Well, I was very flattered. I think. I'm not sure. What's with that he "can tell I'm a partier" bit? Like, you wish, Buster! Well, maybe, IF my current romantic interest doesn't work out long term, maybe someday I'll look into Hell's Ms. I understand that they do a lot of volunteer work within Mensa, I might pick up some social skills, and the logo t-shirts are a status symbol. Maybe I'll have to go read their newsletter.
My head is a bit swelled today. Over the past three days, three other men told me I was beautiful, in a quite serious and personal manner, when I got up to leave after we'd been talking a while. I know I'm not beautiful, but it's nice to be told I'm appreciated however they go about expressing it. (Keep in mind these guys are mostly sex-starved geeks. Maybe they just appreciate a woman who flirts with them a little. (I've been told I flirt unconsciously all the time, with everyone. I don't agree. I guess that's the unconscious part. (Should that be subconscious?)))
Which reminds me - we had some folks set up at a table outside the big hospitality room interviewing candidates for Beauty and the Geek, and some past beauties and geeks in a conference room answering questions. (Giggle. After my flattering weekend, I wasn't sure which side I should apply for.)
Programs I attended today: free hospitality breakfast; Science vs Religion - The search for truth; Beauty and the Geek Q&A; Waltzing Australia; an hour by myself in the whirlpool, with a book. (What book, you ask? I'm a Mensan. It was a dictionary - Bryerson's Dictionary of Troublesome Words.)
Programs I did not attend: Non-denominational Worship Service; Presentation of Awards; Swing Dance Lesson; Exertion (talk on strange sports, stunts, and physical activities); Trust Me, I'm a Lawyer (I wanted to go to this, but it overlapped the science vs religion program, which was very good); Stitch & Bitch; Settlers of Catan Tournament; Proctor Training (how to certify to administer the Mensa IQ test); Everything's Digital - Amazing opportunities and some problems; the after-party, known as "The Survivor's Party".
It was all over by 3 pm. The word was passed that all uneaten food in the hospitality rooms would be discarded, so come and get it now. I loaded a plate with meats and cheeses and melon and three bean salad to have for dinner, and scarfed up all the cans of iced tea I could find. Picnic in my room.
Bedtime. Hard traveling tomorrow. Luggage heavier with books (and handout trash that I'll likely throw away as soon as I get home, but right now seems so very important to LIFE!) I haven't the faintest idea how one gets from here to the airport, whether taxis will even come here to take me. I'll figure it out, I guess.
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Sunday, October 28, 2007
Saturday, October 27, 2007
1521 Gathering So Far
Saturday, October 27, 2007
I'm already starting to lose track of what I did when, so I guess I'd better make some notes.
Thursday
Arrival, room and gathering registration. Hospitality suites aren't open yet, so I took some time to wander around the hotel and see what's where. Picked up a copy of the program schedule and marked some things I want to do. FW arrived a few hours later, and we had dinner in the hotel dining room. Hung out with some other Mensans in the lobby. She said she was tired and was going to bed. I went to my room and read my email. Got to bed around 2 am.
Friday
The official gathering didn't start until 3 pm, but there were some field trips available in the morning. FW had signed up for one to the technology labs at the University of Illinois (8:30 am to 4 pm. Other trips included Taiko Drumming instruction, Museum of Science and Industry, and the Oriental Institute. I hadn't registered until just last Sunday, so I didn't even attempt to go on any of them.) I spent most of the morning sitting in the lobby with a congenial group of Mensans, conversation, and watching people arrive.
As people came in, we'd peg them as Mensan or non-Mensan. Basically, if they were over 300 lbs, we'd peg them as Mensan. Dressed in poorly matched clothes or strange styles, Mensan. Cardboard or grocery bag luggage, Mensan. Bad hair, Mensan. Strange, confused, or conflicting expressions flitting across their faces, Mensan. Oddly matched couples, Mensan. Stop right smack in the middle of traffic areas to talk, Mensan.
We'd find out whether we were correct or not by whether they turned right toward the elevators after leaving the hotel desk, or left toward the gathering registration desk. We were 100% correct on "Mensan". We were wrong only on a few reasonable-looking people we had decided were probably "non-Mensan".
Amazing, especially since if we have been evaluating ourselves, we would of course have been wrong. We being such beautiful and well-mannered people, that is.
There were about 500 Mensans in attendance by Friday night.
Programs I went to on Friday evening: Why You Need a Financial Advisor; Trust Me, I'm an Embalmer; free buffet dinner in the hospitality room; used book sale ($.50 each, every fourth one free - I bought four, one on antique jewelry, two Far Side compilations, and one Sherlock Holmes script by John Cleese, total $1.50); the adult Halloween costume contest; three rounds of Carnelli; the evening dance; and a lot of hanging out in the hospitality rooms.
In an subsequent post, I'll describe Carnelli, and the costume contest.
Programs I did NOT go to on Friday: Kill Doctor Lucky (live-action Clue game); Trust Me, I'm a Pro Gambler (how to get comped in Vegas); Speed Talking; Searching for the Soul of Judaism; Wine Sampling; Lexicography; Mead, the Forgotten Brew; Werewolves of Finsterwald (game, must be fun, they were very loud); Martial Arts in the Movies; Luke Ski concert; Hell's M's meeting (the hard party bunch); Cookie Contest; Sing-Along; Take My Punchline, Please (game - you start a joke, and the first person to come up with the punchline gets points).
FW missed almost everything. She couldn't get to sleep Thursday night, so she went to the hospitality room to get some beer, and ended up schmoozing until it was time to go on her field trip at 8:30 am. After returning from that, she took a nap and didn't wake until the costume contest. Then she went back to bed. Or something. I didn't ask.
I got to bed around 3:30 am.
Saturday
I have bags under my eyes.
FW checked out of the hotel at 10 am, because she's (believe it or not) got a blind date with a gay guy in the city this evening, they're going clubbing, and she's going to stay at his place until her flight home on Monday. She has a quite different lifestyle from mine.
Because I was paying for her room, and because she was checking out early (the reservation went through Monday), I had to go to the desk with her, and futzing around with that I missed the hospitality breakfast. The hospitality meals have been very good. I'm determined not to miss breakfast tomorrow.
Programs I went to on Saturday: Moral Absolutes: Do They Exist, and if So, Can They Be Known?; free hospitality lunch; Squirrels - the Mensans of Our Backyards; a hour in the whirlpool with myself and a book; the big Banquet; Computer Geek - One Nerd's Search for His Soul Mate; Pretentious Drinking; Foreskin Restoration for Fun and Profit; Saturday Night Dance.
Programs I did NOT go to on Saturday: Introduction to Unicode; Musical Surprises; Threatened and Endangered Species of Illinois; Yoga; Logic Puzzles; Web 2.0 Mass Collaboration and Emergent Coolness; Schemes, Scams, and Flim Flams; Poker Questions and Answers; 2007 Space Flight Update; The Journey from Hunter to Hero to Sovereign to Wiseman; Fiendish Armchair Treasure Hunt; Harry Potter and the Secret of the Giant Sales Figures; Texas Hold'em Poker Tournament; Nanotechnology - Many Small Steps to the Future; Etiquette - Keep Your Elbows Off the Table; Obie's Opus - Adventures in Classical Music; Return of the Werewolves (game); In Extremis (extreme accidents and natural disasters caught on tape); Laugh and Learn about Personalities; InQUIZition (game); Sexyg Fishbowl; Midwinter Mensan on Mars (Mars research facility in Utah); Social Dance Lessons; Movies (all night long, various cult horror movies); A Melancholy Hope- A Musician's Personal Creative Journey; CAM-- CAM Jigsaw Challenge. And I didn't visit the game room AT ALL - those people are weird!!!
Now I'm going to bed.
.
I'm already starting to lose track of what I did when, so I guess I'd better make some notes.
Thursday
Arrival, room and gathering registration. Hospitality suites aren't open yet, so I took some time to wander around the hotel and see what's where. Picked up a copy of the program schedule and marked some things I want to do. FW arrived a few hours later, and we had dinner in the hotel dining room. Hung out with some other Mensans in the lobby. She said she was tired and was going to bed. I went to my room and read my email. Got to bed around 2 am.
Friday
The official gathering didn't start until 3 pm, but there were some field trips available in the morning. FW had signed up for one to the technology labs at the University of Illinois (8:30 am to 4 pm. Other trips included Taiko Drumming instruction, Museum of Science and Industry, and the Oriental Institute. I hadn't registered until just last Sunday, so I didn't even attempt to go on any of them.) I spent most of the morning sitting in the lobby with a congenial group of Mensans, conversation, and watching people arrive.
As people came in, we'd peg them as Mensan or non-Mensan. Basically, if they were over 300 lbs, we'd peg them as Mensan. Dressed in poorly matched clothes or strange styles, Mensan. Cardboard or grocery bag luggage, Mensan. Bad hair, Mensan. Strange, confused, or conflicting expressions flitting across their faces, Mensan. Oddly matched couples, Mensan. Stop right smack in the middle of traffic areas to talk, Mensan.
We'd find out whether we were correct or not by whether they turned right toward the elevators after leaving the hotel desk, or left toward the gathering registration desk. We were 100% correct on "Mensan". We were wrong only on a few reasonable-looking people we had decided were probably "non-Mensan".
Amazing, especially since if we have been evaluating ourselves, we would of course have been wrong. We being such beautiful and well-mannered people, that is.
There were about 500 Mensans in attendance by Friday night.
Programs I went to on Friday evening: Why You Need a Financial Advisor; Trust Me, I'm an Embalmer; free buffet dinner in the hospitality room; used book sale ($.50 each, every fourth one free - I bought four, one on antique jewelry, two Far Side compilations, and one Sherlock Holmes script by John Cleese, total $1.50); the adult Halloween costume contest; three rounds of Carnelli; the evening dance; and a lot of hanging out in the hospitality rooms.
In an subsequent post, I'll describe Carnelli, and the costume contest.
Programs I did NOT go to on Friday: Kill Doctor Lucky (live-action Clue game); Trust Me, I'm a Pro Gambler (how to get comped in Vegas); Speed Talking; Searching for the Soul of Judaism; Wine Sampling; Lexicography; Mead, the Forgotten Brew; Werewolves of Finsterwald (game, must be fun, they were very loud); Martial Arts in the Movies; Luke Ski concert; Hell's M's meeting (the hard party bunch); Cookie Contest; Sing-Along; Take My Punchline, Please (game - you start a joke, and the first person to come up with the punchline gets points).
FW missed almost everything. She couldn't get to sleep Thursday night, so she went to the hospitality room to get some beer, and ended up schmoozing until it was time to go on her field trip at 8:30 am. After returning from that, she took a nap and didn't wake until the costume contest. Then she went back to bed. Or something. I didn't ask.
I got to bed around 3:30 am.
Saturday
I have bags under my eyes.
FW checked out of the hotel at 10 am, because she's (believe it or not) got a blind date with a gay guy in the city this evening, they're going clubbing, and she's going to stay at his place until her flight home on Monday. She has a quite different lifestyle from mine.
Because I was paying for her room, and because she was checking out early (the reservation went through Monday), I had to go to the desk with her, and futzing around with that I missed the hospitality breakfast. The hospitality meals have been very good. I'm determined not to miss breakfast tomorrow.
Programs I went to on Saturday: Moral Absolutes: Do They Exist, and if So, Can They Be Known?; free hospitality lunch; Squirrels - the Mensans of Our Backyards; a hour in the whirlpool with myself and a book; the big Banquet; Computer Geek - One Nerd's Search for His Soul Mate; Pretentious Drinking; Foreskin Restoration for Fun and Profit; Saturday Night Dance.
Programs I did NOT go to on Saturday: Introduction to Unicode; Musical Surprises; Threatened and Endangered Species of Illinois; Yoga; Logic Puzzles; Web 2.0 Mass Collaboration and Emergent Coolness; Schemes, Scams, and Flim Flams; Poker Questions and Answers; 2007 Space Flight Update; The Journey from Hunter to Hero to Sovereign to Wiseman; Fiendish Armchair Treasure Hunt; Harry Potter and the Secret of the Giant Sales Figures; Texas Hold'em Poker Tournament; Nanotechnology - Many Small Steps to the Future; Etiquette - Keep Your Elbows Off the Table; Obie's Opus - Adventures in Classical Music; Return of the Werewolves (game); In Extremis (extreme accidents and natural disasters caught on tape); Laugh and Learn about Personalities; InQUIZition (game); Sexyg Fishbowl; Midwinter Mensan on Mars (Mars research facility in Utah); Social Dance Lessons; Movies (all night long, various cult horror movies); A Melancholy Hope- A Musician's Personal Creative Journey; CAM-- CAM Jigsaw Challenge. And I didn't visit the game room AT ALL - those people are weird!!!
Now I'm going to bed.
.
Friday, October 26, 2007
1520 Map of Where I Am
Friday, October 26, 2007
We're pretty far out from the city, without a car. Zoom to level 6 on the map to get the idea.
Map of 3400 W Euclid Ave Arlington Heights, IL 60005-1052, US
If anyone can tell me how to imbed a map from either Mapquest or Google, or at least how to get the link right for the zoom level I'm looking at, I'd pure-D appreciate it.
We're pretty far out from the city, without a car. Zoom to level 6 on the map to get the idea.
Map of 3400 W Euclid Ave Arlington Heights, IL 60005-1052, US
If anyone can tell me how to imbed a map from either Mapquest or Google, or at least how to get the link right for the zoom level I'm looking at, I'd pure-D appreciate it.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
1519 Settling In
Thursday, October 25, 2007
I'm in the hotel, after a frantic morning. I set the alarm for 7 am, planning to leave the house by 8:30, but then didn't wake up until the alarm STOPPED buzzing at 9. I made it out of the house in a record 20 minutes, made it to the airport just barely in time to get my suitcase checked onto the plane.
The Mommy Letter (informational letter you get from Mensa when you register for the gathering) said to arrange for a taxi from O'Hare to the hotel by calling a taxi from a courtesy phone. By the third try I was almost in tears - the guys who answered the phone barely spoke English, and I couldn't understand the letter of the door they wanted me to stand at and the number of the taxi that would come, and the first two hung up on me when I couldn't understand the number. The third guy was nicer, and worked with me until I got it. ("E, as in fervid." "E as in Edward?" "No, E as in fervid." "Like, A B C D E?" "No, A E E E." "Oh, D, as in dog?" "No. E as in David." "Ok, I've got it. A B C D!" "Yuh." "Uh, that's the door under construction that doesn't have a letter on it, right?" "Yuh, that one. Next one up from E.")
At the desk, they asked me if I really required room 906 (or whatever), and when I said no, they moved me to a "preferred" floor. My room is HUGE! Beautiful matched cherry furniture, a king-sized sleigh bed with five pillows, sofa, free wifi, etc.
The hotel is pretty fantastic, too. They have a 60,000 sq. ft. indoor waterpark, with slides, water cannons, whirlpools, and movies you can watch while floating in an innertube. On the other hand, a cup of tea in the cafe is $3.
FW's plane was delayed out of Newburgh. No idea when she'll get here. If she runs into the same taxi guys I did, she might flip out and go home, and I'm not kidding. I wouldn't blame her.
....FW just called my cell. She's here, her room's on the 3rd floor. (I'm on the 10th.) We're going to hunt down some food in about a half hour. (She's got big ideas about famous Chicago restaurants. We are NOT in the city - we're out in the middle of nowhere. I didn't see so much as a Denny's driving in. It's gonna be the hotel food or nothing.)
....Later - checked with the desk. The nearest restaurant is a 10 minute drive away. Nothing within walking distance. Ate in the hotel restaurant. Ten buffalo wings with celery, tea, key lime pie - $23 with tax and tip.
Located the Mensa gathering registration desk. All set.
.
I'm in the hotel, after a frantic morning. I set the alarm for 7 am, planning to leave the house by 8:30, but then didn't wake up until the alarm STOPPED buzzing at 9. I made it out of the house in a record 20 minutes, made it to the airport just barely in time to get my suitcase checked onto the plane.
The Mommy Letter (informational letter you get from Mensa when you register for the gathering) said to arrange for a taxi from O'Hare to the hotel by calling a taxi from a courtesy phone. By the third try I was almost in tears - the guys who answered the phone barely spoke English, and I couldn't understand the letter of the door they wanted me to stand at and the number of the taxi that would come, and the first two hung up on me when I couldn't understand the number. The third guy was nicer, and worked with me until I got it. ("E, as in fervid." "E as in Edward?" "No, E as in fervid." "Like, A B C D E?" "No, A E E E." "Oh, D, as in dog?" "No. E as in David." "Ok, I've got it. A B C D!" "Yuh." "Uh, that's the door under construction that doesn't have a letter on it, right?" "Yuh, that one. Next one up from E.")
At the desk, they asked me if I really required room 906 (or whatever), and when I said no, they moved me to a "preferred" floor. My room is HUGE! Beautiful matched cherry furniture, a king-sized sleigh bed with five pillows, sofa, free wifi, etc.
The hotel is pretty fantastic, too. They have a 60,000 sq. ft. indoor waterpark, with slides, water cannons, whirlpools, and movies you can watch while floating in an innertube. On the other hand, a cup of tea in the cafe is $3.
FW's plane was delayed out of Newburgh. No idea when she'll get here. If she runs into the same taxi guys I did, she might flip out and go home, and I'm not kidding. I wouldn't blame her.
....FW just called my cell. She's here, her room's on the 3rd floor. (I'm on the 10th.) We're going to hunt down some food in about a half hour. (She's got big ideas about famous Chicago restaurants. We are NOT in the city - we're out in the middle of nowhere. I didn't see so much as a Denny's driving in. It's gonna be the hotel food or nothing.)
....Later - checked with the desk. The nearest restaurant is a 10 minute drive away. Nothing within walking distance. Ate in the hotel restaurant. Ten buffalo wings with celery, tea, key lime pie - $23 with tax and tip.
Located the Mensa gathering registration desk. All set.
.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
1518 Pushing & Spitting
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
I got everything done today that I was supposed to get done, except packing. It's after 11 pm, I have an early flight tomorrow out of an airport a hour and a half away, and I haven't even started packing yet. Bad girl.
I accidentally caught a few minutes of "Pushing Daisies" earlier this evening, and it intrigued me, so now, instead of packing, I'm watching the first three episodes of that show online while simultaneously watching the world series on TV. (What's with all the spitting? Yuck!)
I'll sleep tomorrow. Yeah, sure. At a convention.
.
I got everything done today that I was supposed to get done, except packing. It's after 11 pm, I have an early flight tomorrow out of an airport a hour and a half away, and I haven't even started packing yet. Bad girl.
I accidentally caught a few minutes of "Pushing Daisies" earlier this evening, and it intrigued me, so now, instead of packing, I'm watching the first three episodes of that show online while simultaneously watching the world series on TV. (What's with all the spitting? Yuck!)
I'll sleep tomorrow. Yeah, sure. At a convention.
.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
1517 Running
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Big date last night. Among other things (dinner, walk along the riverfront, long drive, etc.) we went to a huge arcade, where I learned about breeding and training a racehorse. Yup. I don't remember what it's called, but you breed a sire and dam, and get a virtual foal (colt or filly), name it, and then you train it, and feed it, and race it. My friend had a stable full, so we picked a good pair from his stable, and I got a colt, which I named Silken Drum. He's young, and doesn't have his full strength yet, did well in his first few races, and then came in last in the race just before the arcade closed. It was fun, but they have time limits on how long you can think about what to feed, and how to train, and so on, and I just don't think that fast. His data is on a card in my purse, and I can't wait to get back to him. He's cute. I hated to leave him with such a bad loss.
Today I went to dinner with a friend, and tomorrow I have to pack for Chicago.
Mother is having a good time.
.
Big date last night. Among other things (dinner, walk along the riverfront, long drive, etc.) we went to a huge arcade, where I learned about breeding and training a racehorse. Yup. I don't remember what it's called, but you breed a sire and dam, and get a virtual foal (colt or filly), name it, and then you train it, and feed it, and race it. My friend had a stable full, so we picked a good pair from his stable, and I got a colt, which I named Silken Drum. He's young, and doesn't have his full strength yet, did well in his first few races, and then came in last in the race just before the arcade closed. It was fun, but they have time limits on how long you can think about what to feed, and how to train, and so on, and I just don't think that fast. His data is on a card in my purse, and I can't wait to get back to him. He's cute. I hated to leave him with such a bad loss.
Today I went to dinner with a friend, and tomorrow I have to pack for Chicago.
Mother is having a good time.
.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
1516 Math Woes
Sunday, October 21, 2007
I went to a symposium today, and got to talk with some friends after. I mentioned the math video of a few posts back (http://thesilkentouch.blogspot.com/2007/10/1506-denver-math-plans.html), and one of the guys told of an experience he'd had yesterday.
He was in a store, and his bill came to $12.82. He handed the girl exactly $12.82, and then remembered that he had a $3-off coupon, so he handed her the coupon. She turned to another cashier and asked, "Hey, how much is 12 minus 3?"
I laughed and told him that if he REALLY wanted to confuse her, on a $12.82 tab, he should hand her $23.02 (a twenty, three ones, two pennies).
I do that a lot, and they almost always try to hand the three dollar bills and the two cents (or whatever is over the large bill) back immediately. I say no, and they ask why I gave them so much. I tell them to do the math and then they'll see.
They do the math (well, they punch buttons on the register), are surprised at how it works out, and look at me like I'm some kind of genius.
Well, duh! I just know math.
.
I went to a symposium today, and got to talk with some friends after. I mentioned the math video of a few posts back (http://thesilkentouch.blogspot.com/2007/10/1506-denver-math-plans.html), and one of the guys told of an experience he'd had yesterday.
He was in a store, and his bill came to $12.82. He handed the girl exactly $12.82, and then remembered that he had a $3-off coupon, so he handed her the coupon. She turned to another cashier and asked, "Hey, how much is 12 minus 3?"
I laughed and told him that if he REALLY wanted to confuse her, on a $12.82 tab, he should hand her $23.02 (a twenty, three ones, two pennies).
I do that a lot, and they almost always try to hand the three dollar bills and the two cents (or whatever is over the large bill) back immediately. I say no, and they ask why I gave them so much. I tell them to do the math and then they'll see.
They do the math (well, they punch buttons on the register), are surprised at how it works out, and look at me like I'm some kind of genius.
Well, duh! I just know math.
.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
1515 Flippin' ClearTel!
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Back in the desktop days, I had a dialup connection. I had a second phone line from Frontier, and the server was ClearTel. I paid once a year for the ClearTel connection, for the year ahead, and every month for the Frontier line.
Then I got the laptop and the wireless connection. Shortly after that the annual bill from ClearTel arrived. Naturally, I called ClearTel and cancelled the account. Don't need it any more. I got a cancellation number, and the guy said that since we were a few days into the next contract period, I would have to pay one months' prorated cost. Ok, no problem. As soon as I got off the phone, I followed up with a formal snailmail letter closing the account, with the rep's name, and the cancellation number, and enclosed a check for the prorated amount.
The next month, I got another bill for the year's contract, with the prorated amount deducted from the total. I wrote them another letter, reminding them that the contract was cancelled, and the balance owed should now be zero. I asked that they contact me after verifying this, and let me know what their disposition was.
No response. The next month, I get a notice that the account has been turned over to a collection agency.
I exploded!
I wrote letters this evening to ClearTel and to the collection agency. The tone of the letter to the collection agency was businesslike. I know they can't do much without direction from ClearTel. The letter to ClearTel was mostly businesslike, except for the first paragraph, which is: "Please forward this letter to someone with enough intelligence to read it, enough experience to understand it, and enough courtesy to answer it. My experience with ClearTel so far is that these are rare qualities."
Frontier is next, but I'll try a phone call to them first.
.
Back in the desktop days, I had a dialup connection. I had a second phone line from Frontier, and the server was ClearTel. I paid once a year for the ClearTel connection, for the year ahead, and every month for the Frontier line.
Then I got the laptop and the wireless connection. Shortly after that the annual bill from ClearTel arrived. Naturally, I called ClearTel and cancelled the account. Don't need it any more. I got a cancellation number, and the guy said that since we were a few days into the next contract period, I would have to pay one months' prorated cost. Ok, no problem. As soon as I got off the phone, I followed up with a formal snailmail letter closing the account, with the rep's name, and the cancellation number, and enclosed a check for the prorated amount.
The next month, I got another bill for the year's contract, with the prorated amount deducted from the total. I wrote them another letter, reminding them that the contract was cancelled, and the balance owed should now be zero. I asked that they contact me after verifying this, and let me know what their disposition was.
No response. The next month, I get a notice that the account has been turned over to a collection agency.
I exploded!
I wrote letters this evening to ClearTel and to the collection agency. The tone of the letter to the collection agency was businesslike. I know they can't do much without direction from ClearTel. The letter to ClearTel was mostly businesslike, except for the first paragraph, which is: "Please forward this letter to someone with enough intelligence to read it, enough experience to understand it, and enough courtesy to answer it. My experience with ClearTel so far is that these are rare qualities."
Frontier is next, but I'll try a phone call to them first.
.
Friday, October 19, 2007
1514 Density
Friday, October 19, 2007
We've all heard that Hong Kong has a high population density. I didn't fully realize what that meant until I saw the photographs from Michael Wolf. Go to http://www.photomichaelwolf.com/intro/index.html, and click on "Architecture of Density" (I had to click on it twice). As you scroll through from first to last, it begins to look less and less human, and more and more machine.
.
We've all heard that Hong Kong has a high population density. I didn't fully realize what that meant until I saw the photographs from Michael Wolf. Go to http://www.photomichaelwolf.com/intro/index.html, and click on "Architecture of Density" (I had to click on it twice). As you scroll through from first to last, it begins to look less and less human, and more and more machine.
.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
1513 Ashes to Ashes
Wednesday, October 18, 2007
I don't trust animal crematoriums at all, even the regulated and inspected ones. You send a 90 lb. dog, and you get back a cup of ashes. You send a 30 lb. dog, and you get back a cup of ashes. You send a 10 lb. cat, and you get back a half a cup of ashes. You send a 30 lb. big-boned Maine Coon cat, and you get back a half a cup of ashes.
Seems like there's a formula: dog = 1 cup, cat = 1/2 cup. I half suspect they cremate several animals at once, and then just apportion out the mixed ashes.
Not that it really matters that much. When you disperse the ashes in a loved place, it's really the idea that counts.
Speaking of cremation, there's something that has been bothering me for years. Humans don't burn down to powder. No matter what the temperature or time, there will be very brittle pieces of bone that kind of hold together and continue to look like bone. So the crematorium crushes the remains before they return them. When I scattered Jay's ashes on my mountain, there were many hard bits of obvious bone, the size of the pink part of my pinky fingernail.
Now here's what bothers me: there were no bits of metal. The man was full of metal. He had a Greenfield filter, and lots of clips and plates holding his skull together, and some other stuff. I expected to see melted pellets of metal. I didn't. Why not?
--------------------------
Joke I heard recently:
A scientist goes to God, and says, "Lord, we don't need you anymore. Scientific advances have allowed us to now make the shape of a man from dirt, treat the dirt, and breathe life into the form. Now that we can do everything you can do, you can retire."
God answers, "You can create life? Show me."
So the scientist kneels down and starts scraping dirt into a pile.
God stops him, wagging His finger. "Uh uh. Use your own dirt."
.
I don't trust animal crematoriums at all, even the regulated and inspected ones. You send a 90 lb. dog, and you get back a cup of ashes. You send a 30 lb. dog, and you get back a cup of ashes. You send a 10 lb. cat, and you get back a half a cup of ashes. You send a 30 lb. big-boned Maine Coon cat, and you get back a half a cup of ashes.
Seems like there's a formula: dog = 1 cup, cat = 1/2 cup. I half suspect they cremate several animals at once, and then just apportion out the mixed ashes.
Not that it really matters that much. When you disperse the ashes in a loved place, it's really the idea that counts.
Speaking of cremation, there's something that has been bothering me for years. Humans don't burn down to powder. No matter what the temperature or time, there will be very brittle pieces of bone that kind of hold together and continue to look like bone. So the crematorium crushes the remains before they return them. When I scattered Jay's ashes on my mountain, there were many hard bits of obvious bone, the size of the pink part of my pinky fingernail.
Now here's what bothers me: there were no bits of metal. The man was full of metal. He had a Greenfield filter, and lots of clips and plates holding his skull together, and some other stuff. I expected to see melted pellets of metal. I didn't. Why not?
--------------------------
Joke I heard recently:
A scientist goes to God, and says, "Lord, we don't need you anymore. Scientific advances have allowed us to now make the shape of a man from dirt, treat the dirt, and breathe life into the form. Now that we can do everything you can do, you can retire."
God answers, "You can create life? Show me."
So the scientist kneels down and starts scraping dirt into a pile.
God stops him, wagging His finger. "Uh uh. Use your own dirt."
.
1512 A Way
Thursday, October 18, 2007
I have copied the following text whole hog from http://wwwjackbenimble.blogspot.com/2007/10/easy-way-to-help-others.html, because the link he included to the full story requires a subscription which I don't have. Given the topic, I doubt he'd mind. (Plus I suspect his text came from the original story in the Los Angeles Times, anyway.) The link to Kiva, however, does work, and that site includes a link to a New York Times story/video.
Through Kiva, anyone with $25 and an e-mail address can make a loan to a small entrepreneur in a developing country. Gabriela Villegas scrolled through the online profiles, searching for a photo and description that appealed to her.
She wasn't surfing for a date or networking for new friends. She was on the Kiva website, reading through stories of impoverished entrepreneurs in developing countries, trying to decide to which venture she would extend a $25 business loan.
"Twenty-five dollars -- that's probably how much I spend on just one meal," said Villegas, 25, of Manchester, Conn. "But with that same money, I was able to change someone's life."
Kiva, at www.kiva.org, is a nonprofit based in San Francisco. It has not yet celebrated its two-year anniversary but is already attracting international attention for its unique mission -- blending the principles of micro-financing with the power of online social networking to deliver business loans to the world's working poor.
Named after the Swahili word for "unity," Kiva is getting big-name nods from the likes of Oprah Winfrey and former President Clinton. And with more than $13 million lent to 1,800 ventures, it's being held as an example of a savvy brand of online activism.
"People are by nature generous and want to help others, but they want to do it in a way . . . where they can really see how they're making an impact on somebody's life," said Kiva spokeswoman Fiona Ramsey. "We all see [the philanthropic work that] Bill Gates and Oprah do, and we'd all love to do that ourselves. But few of us can afford to."
Enter Kiva, making a micro-lender of anyone with $25 and an e-mail address.
Here's how it works. The organization partners with 66 nonprofit micro-finance institutions that vet loan applicants in 38 countries. Once they get clearance, the borrowers post their pictures and needs on the Kiva website, where would-be lenders can pore through the 70-or-so listings posted at any given time -- a motor-taxi service in Asia, a goat farmer in Africa, a seamstress in Iraq. An average loan request is $650, and lenders can choose how much to fund.
As borrowers repay their loans, they send online progress reports so lenders can see how their money is working. Once the loan is repaid -- and most are, with a default rate of just 0.3% -- lenders can collect their money or lend it to another entrepreneur. Most lenders choose the latter, Ramsey said.
I have copied the following text whole hog from http://wwwjackbenimble.blogspot.com/2007/10/easy-way-to-help-others.html, because the link he included to the full story requires a subscription which I don't have. Given the topic, I doubt he'd mind. (Plus I suspect his text came from the original story in the Los Angeles Times, anyway.) The link to Kiva, however, does work, and that site includes a link to a New York Times story/video.
Through Kiva, anyone with $25 and an e-mail address can make a loan to a small entrepreneur in a developing country. Gabriela Villegas scrolled through the online profiles, searching for a photo and description that appealed to her.
She wasn't surfing for a date or networking for new friends. She was on the Kiva website, reading through stories of impoverished entrepreneurs in developing countries, trying to decide to which venture she would extend a $25 business loan.
"Twenty-five dollars -- that's probably how much I spend on just one meal," said Villegas, 25, of Manchester, Conn. "But with that same money, I was able to change someone's life."
Kiva, at www.kiva.org, is a nonprofit based in San Francisco. It has not yet celebrated its two-year anniversary but is already attracting international attention for its unique mission -- blending the principles of micro-financing with the power of online social networking to deliver business loans to the world's working poor.
Named after the Swahili word for "unity," Kiva is getting big-name nods from the likes of Oprah Winfrey and former President Clinton. And with more than $13 million lent to 1,800 ventures, it's being held as an example of a savvy brand of online activism.
"People are by nature generous and want to help others, but they want to do it in a way . . . where they can really see how they're making an impact on somebody's life," said Kiva spokeswoman Fiona Ramsey. "We all see [the philanthropic work that] Bill Gates and Oprah do, and we'd all love to do that ourselves. But few of us can afford to."
Enter Kiva, making a micro-lender of anyone with $25 and an e-mail address.
Here's how it works. The organization partners with 66 nonprofit micro-finance institutions that vet loan applicants in 38 countries. Once they get clearance, the borrowers post their pictures and needs on the Kiva website, where would-be lenders can pore through the 70-or-so listings posted at any given time -- a motor-taxi service in Asia, a goat farmer in Africa, a seamstress in Iraq. An average loan request is $650, and lenders can choose how much to fund.
As borrowers repay their loans, they send online progress reports so lenders can see how their money is working. Once the loan is repaid -- and most are, with a default rate of just 0.3% -- lenders can collect their money or lend it to another entrepreneur. Most lenders choose the latter, Ramsey said.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
1510 Kitty Update
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Jasper went to the vet today, and had some minor surgery. (I suppose most males would not consider it minor.) He's still staggering a little from the anesthesia, but otherwise doesn't seem too inconvenienced.
When I picked him up at the vet's office, he was extremely inconvenienced, and let me know. He actually hissed at me, even after he knew it was me. I don't know what he was so ticked off about. I may have a serious problem getting him into the carrier again.
I'll be going to Chicago soon, leaving on a Thursday and returning the following Monday. That's three days I won't be home, and I've never had any problem leaving Miss Thunderfoot alone for that long. I just put out three days worth of dry food, and she apportions it properly.
I've concluded that I can't do that with Jasper. If I put out three days worth of food, he'll eat it all immediately, throw it up, and have nothing left to eat. And if I don't shut him away, he will also eat all of Thunder's food, so she won't have anything, either. I'm going to have to board him.
The schedule is too tight for me to take him to Pussyfoot Lodge, my first choice, so he'll be staying at the vet's (which isn't too terrible - they let board animals out to wander the office and socialize with the office staff). But after today's experience, Jasper may not be too happy to find himself back there so soon.
.
Jasper went to the vet today, and had some minor surgery. (I suppose most males would not consider it minor.) He's still staggering a little from the anesthesia, but otherwise doesn't seem too inconvenienced.
When I picked him up at the vet's office, he was extremely inconvenienced, and let me know. He actually hissed at me, even after he knew it was me. I don't know what he was so ticked off about. I may have a serious problem getting him into the carrier again.
I'll be going to Chicago soon, leaving on a Thursday and returning the following Monday. That's three days I won't be home, and I've never had any problem leaving Miss Thunderfoot alone for that long. I just put out three days worth of dry food, and she apportions it properly.
I've concluded that I can't do that with Jasper. If I put out three days worth of food, he'll eat it all immediately, throw it up, and have nothing left to eat. And if I don't shut him away, he will also eat all of Thunder's food, so she won't have anything, either. I'm going to have to board him.
The schedule is too tight for me to take him to Pussyfoot Lodge, my first choice, so he'll be staying at the vet's (which isn't too terrible - they let board animals out to wander the office and socialize with the office staff). But after today's experience, Jasper may not be too happy to find himself back there so soon.
.
1509 The Moving Table
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
A few years ago I had to pull together a list of all the places I had lived. I forget what for. I was cleaning out a desk drawer last night, and found my notes. I tried to put the list in a table, but even though it looked fine in Works Word, I couldn't get it to work here. I kept it simple, and I'm sure I did it right. I finally gave up. Here's the list, as a list, and I'm annoyed because Blogger doesn't recognize tabbing, and even removes extra spaces. Snort.
Scranton, PA
1944-1946
Birth & infancy
?????
1947-1948
Toddling
Fayetteville, NC
1948-1949
Kindergarten
Scranton, PA
1949-1950
Kindergarten
Mississippi City, MS
1950
Summer before 1st grade
Biloxi, MS
1950
1st grade
Scranton, PA
1950
1st Grade
Hershey, PA
1951
1st Grade
Benton, PA, River St
1951
1st Grade
Benton, PA, 2½ St
1951-1952
2nd Grade
Benton, PA, Appleman’s house
1952-1953
3rd Grade
Benton, PA, Rooster house
1953-1954
4th Grade
Ottawa, Canada, Bank Street
1954-1955
5th Grade
Ottawa, Canada, Fairbanks Ave.
1955-1957
5th-7th Grades
Benton, PA, BSA House
1957-1958
8th-9th Grades
Red Rock, PA, USAF Base
1958-1962
9th-12th Grades
Bloomsburg, BSC Dorms
1962-1963
College
Benton, PA, Parsonage House
1963
College
Bloomsburg, PA, BSC Dorms
1964
College
Bloomsburg, PA, town housing
1964
College
Berwick, PA
1965
College, Student Teaching
Bristol, PA
1965
College, Student Teaching
Bloomsburg
1965
Summer Session & Graduation
Gettysburg, PA, Mrs. K.’s House
1965
Teaching H.S.
Gettysburg, PA, In-town Apartment
1965-1966
Teaching H.S.
Gettysburg, PA, Trailer
1966-1967
Teaching H.S.
Schwenksville, PA
1967-1968
Teaching H.S.</
Ruby, NY
1968-1971
The Company
Ballwin, MO
1971-1976
The Company
Germantown, MD
1977-1982
Stay at Home Mother
Highland, NY
1982-1994
The Company
Current Address, NY
1994-Present
Retired
A few years ago I had to pull together a list of all the places I had lived. I forget what for. I was cleaning out a desk drawer last night, and found my notes. I tried to put the list in a table, but even though it looked fine in Works Word, I couldn't get it to work here. I kept it simple, and I'm sure I did it right. I finally gave up. Here's the list, as a list, and I'm annoyed because Blogger doesn't recognize tabbing, and even removes extra spaces. Snort.
Scranton, PA
1944-1946
Birth & infancy
?????
1947-1948
Toddling
Fayetteville, NC
1948-1949
Kindergarten
Scranton, PA
1949-1950
Kindergarten
Mississippi City, MS
1950
Summer before 1st grade
Biloxi, MS
1950
1st grade
Scranton, PA
1950
1st Grade
Hershey, PA
1951
1st Grade
Benton, PA, River St
1951
1st Grade
Benton, PA, 2½ St
1951-1952
2nd Grade
Benton, PA, Appleman’s house
1952-1953
3rd Grade
Benton, PA, Rooster house
1953-1954
4th Grade
Ottawa, Canada, Bank Street
1954-1955
5th Grade
Ottawa, Canada, Fairbanks Ave.
1955-1957
5th-7th Grades
Benton, PA, BSA House
1957-1958
8th-9th Grades
Red Rock, PA, USAF Base
1958-1962
9th-12th Grades
Bloomsburg, BSC Dorms
1962-1963
College
Benton, PA, Parsonage House
1963
College
Bloomsburg, PA, BSC Dorms
1964
College
Bloomsburg, PA, town housing
1964
College
Berwick, PA
1965
College, Student Teaching
Bristol, PA
1965
College, Student Teaching
Bloomsburg
1965
Summer Session & Graduation
Gettysburg, PA, Mrs. K.’s House
1965
Teaching H.S.
Gettysburg, PA, In-town Apartment
1965-1966
Teaching H.S.
Gettysburg, PA, Trailer
1966-1967
Teaching H.S.
Schwenksville, PA
1967-1968
Teaching H.S.</
Ruby, NY
1968-1971
The Company
Ballwin, MO
1971-1976
The Company
Germantown, MD
1977-1982
Stay at Home Mother
Highland, NY
1982-1994
The Company
Current Address, NY
1994-Present
Retired
Monday, October 15, 2007
1508 Total Loss of Anonymity
Monday, October 15, 2007
It happened for the first time today. It don't know how it could happen. I don't know how they found out, how they got the information, and it's freaking me out!
I got political campaign email spam on one of my ids!
It was for a Dutchess County judge running for reelection.
How did "they" know the person who owns that email id lives in Dutchess County? As far as I know, there is NO street address connected with that id through the email provider - it's a free email account. It's possible I have provided an email address sometime on some form somewhere to which a political committee may have access, but it wouldn't have been THIS id! I have other ids for that kind of distribution. This one is jealously guarded.
Ack! This is scary!
.
It happened for the first time today. It don't know how it could happen. I don't know how they found out, how they got the information, and it's freaking me out!
I got political campaign email spam on one of my ids!
It was for a Dutchess County judge running for reelection.
How did "they" know the person who owns that email id lives in Dutchess County? As far as I know, there is NO street address connected with that id through the email provider - it's a free email account. It's possible I have provided an email address sometime on some form somewhere to which a political committee may have access, but it wouldn't have been THIS id! I have other ids for that kind of distribution. This one is jealously guarded.
Ack! This is scary!
.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
1507 The Weekend
Sunday, October 14, 2007
According to the PBS program on child brides mentioned in the previous entry, parents in India will marry off very young daughters "to have one fewer mouth to feed". But that doesn't make any sense at all, because the child brides don't go to the husband's house until puberty. So the parents still have to feed her, AND they have to come up with a dowry to marry her off.
Maybe the real reason is that the dowry is lower if she's very young?
----------------------------------
On the new math mentioned in the previous entry, what I didn't say, and don't want to say, is that the new methods are very close to how some math whizzes think when they do multiplication and division "in their heads". I didn't point it out because it comes too close to a defense. The difference is that the whizzes come up with it themselves out of a complete understanding.
-----------------------------------
I went to Rakkasah, and was met by my friend. I had a very good time. I am trying very hard not to fall in love. It's good that we've held off on any great declarations. Truths are being slowly revealed, and are being accepted. Trust is getting built. If this goes anywhere, it will be solid. If it goes nowhere, there will be no terrible disillusionment, no unbearable pain. This is good. I'm learning.
.
According to the PBS program on child brides mentioned in the previous entry, parents in India will marry off very young daughters "to have one fewer mouth to feed". But that doesn't make any sense at all, because the child brides don't go to the husband's house until puberty. So the parents still have to feed her, AND they have to come up with a dowry to marry her off.
Maybe the real reason is that the dowry is lower if she's very young?
----------------------------------
On the new math mentioned in the previous entry, what I didn't say, and don't want to say, is that the new methods are very close to how some math whizzes think when they do multiplication and division "in their heads". I didn't point it out because it comes too close to a defense. The difference is that the whizzes come up with it themselves out of a complete understanding.
-----------------------------------
I went to Rakkasah, and was met by my friend. I had a very good time. I am trying very hard not to fall in love. It's good that we've held off on any great declarations. Truths are being slowly revealed, and are being accepted. Trust is getting built. If this goes anywhere, it will be solid. If it goes nowhere, there will be no terrible disillusionment, no unbearable pain. This is good. I'm learning.
.
Friday, October 12, 2007
1506 Denver, Math, Plans
Friday, October 12, 2007
PBS had a tribute to John Denver this evening. It reminded me of a reaction I had back in the very late 70s or early 80s, when John Denver was at the top of the charts with one song after another. I was driving, and there was a new John Denver song playing on the car radio, and then the announcer said "And that was Annie's Song by John Denver." Well, back then, car radios weren't all that good, and what I heard was "And that was any song by John Denver", and I laughed and thought, "oh, yes, they do all sound alike!"
Not to knock JD, I loved him, too, but hey, they DID all sound alike!
--------------------------------
If you have children in school, or know anyone who has children in school, you MUST watch this video. It's about 15.5 minutes long, but it's interesting, important, and frightening. The teaching of math is changing again, and not in a good way. As a former math teacher, this scares me!
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tr1qee-bTZI)
There have been several responses to the above video. At http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wOH9gwImyXg, a guy has timed the old algorithms against the new methods.
At http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9skRrnN2_HU (Part 1) and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U1tPHInrEk0 (Part 2) a college professor attempts to defend the new against the old on the grounds that students must understand the concepts behind what they are doing, and must learn the logic, as opposed to simply memorizing the algorithms. However, he admits that he is unfamiliar with the new books and methods. He apparently doesn't realize that the new methods DON'T get one closer to the concepts. Taught correctly, the old algorithms should be backed by concepts. I can assure you MY students understood what they were doing!
Finally, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tx5KDyvlG3Q is an amusing (and very well done) look at the topic.
----------------------------------
It's been two weeks since I've seen The Man. We were supposed to get together in Newburgh last night, but work pressures intervened, so it's tomorrow. I'm heading to NJ for the Saturday performances at Rakkasah, and he will join me there.
----------------------------------
Whoops. A PBS program on child brides in India is starting. Gotta sign off.
.
PBS had a tribute to John Denver this evening. It reminded me of a reaction I had back in the very late 70s or early 80s, when John Denver was at the top of the charts with one song after another. I was driving, and there was a new John Denver song playing on the car radio, and then the announcer said "And that was Annie's Song by John Denver." Well, back then, car radios weren't all that good, and what I heard was "And that was any song by John Denver", and I laughed and thought, "oh, yes, they do all sound alike!"
Not to knock JD, I loved him, too, but hey, they DID all sound alike!
--------------------------------
If you have children in school, or know anyone who has children in school, you MUST watch this video. It's about 15.5 minutes long, but it's interesting, important, and frightening. The teaching of math is changing again, and not in a good way. As a former math teacher, this scares me!
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tr1qee-bTZI)
There have been several responses to the above video. At http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wOH9gwImyXg, a guy has timed the old algorithms against the new methods.
At http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9skRrnN2_HU (Part 1) and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U1tPHInrEk0 (Part 2) a college professor attempts to defend the new against the old on the grounds that students must understand the concepts behind what they are doing, and must learn the logic, as opposed to simply memorizing the algorithms. However, he admits that he is unfamiliar with the new books and methods. He apparently doesn't realize that the new methods DON'T get one closer to the concepts. Taught correctly, the old algorithms should be backed by concepts. I can assure you MY students understood what they were doing!
Finally, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tx5KDyvlG3Q is an amusing (and very well done) look at the topic.
----------------------------------
It's been two weeks since I've seen The Man. We were supposed to get together in Newburgh last night, but work pressures intervened, so it's tomorrow. I'm heading to NJ for the Saturday performances at Rakkasah, and he will join me there.
----------------------------------
Whoops. A PBS program on child brides in India is starting. Gotta sign off.
.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
1505 Taxes and Cascade
Thursday, October 11, 2007
I got a $500 rebate check yesterday, under the STAR program (School Tax Relief Program, which includes a school property tax rebate program and a partial property tax exemption). The amount of the rebate depends on one's age and income level, and amount of taxes paid. They (Albany) determine your income from the income tax forms filed the previous April.
Now, I appreciate the rebate. But what bugs me is that it costs the state money to cut all these checks and mail them. I paid my school taxes several months ago, using money from a money market account, $500 of which I will now return to that account. So I'm out those months of earnings on that $500.
In these days of computers, would it really be so difficult to figure the rebate before I pay the school tax, and simply discount the tax bill by that much? Duh?
---------------------------------
This (http://www.nytimes.com/2007/10/09/science/09tier.html?_r=1&oref=slogin) is a New York Times article on "mistaken consensus".
I've seen mistaken consensus in action in The Company. It's when some person considered an expert comes up with a conclusion that a few others accept without question. Then, since there are now several "experts" espousing this conclusion, others accept it too. It cascades. Next thing you know, it's common wisdom. "Everyone knows" it's true.
Then, a few skeptics decide to actually test the truth, and are unable to support the conclusion. In fact, they may even prove it false. But since the conclusion is generally accepted (by experts who have never tested it, based solely on the acceptance of others who had never tested it, the cascade), these skeptics are shouted down, and even ostracised, to the point where dissension could become professional suicide - in a "reputational cascade".
The example used in the article is "Dietary fat is bad for you." 'Tain't true. The article traces the origin and mistaken cascade of the myth, and the difficulty combating it.
I witnessed several mistaken cascades within The Company. The source was almost always someone who stood to profit from the myth (not that they knowingly spread misinformation - they likely fully believed it - just that it wasn't true), and, on the basis of the myth, was promoted beyond harm by the time it was disproved. And, unfairness piled upon unfairness, the disprover was usually professionally injured by early dissension, and the final disproving of the myth never fully repaired that damage. ("Harumph! Not a team player! Rocks the boat! Yeah, ok, she was right, but still...")
Sigh. Yeah. The disprover was often me. It's a real credit to my talents that I actually did quite well on appraisals, raises, promotions. When I wasn't in the doghouse, that is. Which would last until I managed to kickstart a competing consensus cascade of my own.
There's a lesson there.
.
I got a $500 rebate check yesterday, under the STAR program (School Tax Relief Program, which includes a school property tax rebate program and a partial property tax exemption). The amount of the rebate depends on one's age and income level, and amount of taxes paid. They (Albany) determine your income from the income tax forms filed the previous April.
Now, I appreciate the rebate. But what bugs me is that it costs the state money to cut all these checks and mail them. I paid my school taxes several months ago, using money from a money market account, $500 of which I will now return to that account. So I'm out those months of earnings on that $500.
In these days of computers, would it really be so difficult to figure the rebate before I pay the school tax, and simply discount the tax bill by that much? Duh?
---------------------------------
This (http://www.nytimes.com/2007/10/09/science/09tier.html?_r=1&oref=slogin) is a New York Times article on "mistaken consensus".
I've seen mistaken consensus in action in The Company. It's when some person considered an expert comes up with a conclusion that a few others accept without question. Then, since there are now several "experts" espousing this conclusion, others accept it too. It cascades. Next thing you know, it's common wisdom. "Everyone knows" it's true.
Then, a few skeptics decide to actually test the truth, and are unable to support the conclusion. In fact, they may even prove it false. But since the conclusion is generally accepted (by experts who have never tested it, based solely on the acceptance of others who had never tested it, the cascade), these skeptics are shouted down, and even ostracised, to the point where dissension could become professional suicide - in a "reputational cascade".
The example used in the article is "Dietary fat is bad for you." 'Tain't true. The article traces the origin and mistaken cascade of the myth, and the difficulty combating it.
I witnessed several mistaken cascades within The Company. The source was almost always someone who stood to profit from the myth (not that they knowingly spread misinformation - they likely fully believed it - just that it wasn't true), and, on the basis of the myth, was promoted beyond harm by the time it was disproved. And, unfairness piled upon unfairness, the disprover was usually professionally injured by early dissension, and the final disproving of the myth never fully repaired that damage. ("Harumph! Not a team player! Rocks the boat! Yeah, ok, she was right, but still...")
Sigh. Yeah. The disprover was often me. It's a real credit to my talents that I actually did quite well on appraisals, raises, promotions. When I wasn't in the doghouse, that is. Which would last until I managed to kickstart a competing consensus cascade of my own.
There's a lesson there.
.
1504 Sheesh. Some People....
Last year I replaced all the windows in my house with those expensive, double-pane energy efficient kind. Yesterday, I got a call from the contractor who installed them. He was complaining that the windows had been installed a whole year ago and I had not paid for them yet.
Helloooo.... Now just because I'm blonde doesn't mean that I'm automatically stupid! So I told him what his fast talking sales guy had told ME last year....namely, that in just ONE YEAR these windows would pay for themselves.
"Helloooo"? (I told him) "It's been a year." There was only silence on the other end of the line. So I finally just hung up. He hasn't called back, probably too embarrassed about forgetting the guarantee they made me.
Bet he won't underestimate a blonde anymore!
.
Helloooo.... Now just because I'm blonde doesn't mean that I'm automatically stupid! So I told him what his fast talking sales guy had told ME last year....namely, that in just ONE YEAR these windows would pay for themselves.
"Helloooo"? (I told him) "It's been a year." There was only silence on the other end of the line. So I finally just hung up. He hasn't called back, probably too embarrassed about forgetting the guarantee they made me.
Bet he won't underestimate a blonde anymore!
.
1503 Some Amusement
The Top Ten Reasons Why Trick-or-Treating is Better Than Sex
10. You're guaranteed to get at least a little something in the sack.
9. If you get tired, you can wait 10 minutes and go at it again.
8. The uglier you look, the easier it is to get some.
7. You don't have to compliment the person who gives you some.
6. It's okay if the person you're with fantasizes you're someone else, because you actually are.
5. Forty years from now you'll still enjoy candy.
4. If you don't like what you get, you can always go next door.
3. It doesn't matter if the kids hear you moaning and groaning.
2. There's a lot less guilt the morning after.
1. You can do the whole neighborhood.
10. You're guaranteed to get at least a little something in the sack.
9. If you get tired, you can wait 10 minutes and go at it again.
8. The uglier you look, the easier it is to get some.
7. You don't have to compliment the person who gives you some.
6. It's okay if the person you're with fantasizes you're someone else, because you actually are.
5. Forty years from now you'll still enjoy candy.
4. If you don't like what you get, you can always go next door.
3. It doesn't matter if the kids hear you moaning and groaning.
2. There's a lot less guilt the morning after.
1. You can do the whole neighborhood.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
1502 The Geeks and the Brauhaus
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Mensa dinner tonight at the Mountain Brauhaus, near Mohonk. It was a tad expensive for this group, but the food was very good. We sat down at the table at 6:30. We got our entrees at 8:00. I was amused because after the wait of an hour and a half, five of the six at the table had inhaled their dinner within 12 minutes of its arrival (I'm a bit slow). The waitress apologized for the slow service. The place was mobbed (on a Wednesday night!) and they were short handed.
Angie's friend Nate sat next to me, and he says "sexy lingerie" is garter belts with stockings with seams up the back, and stiletto heels. Nobody else at the table had much of an opinion (Les looked confused), but Nate seemed to really get into the topic. Angie was looking at him like he'd grown a second head.
My exploration continues. I may have to write a book.
Not much else to report. I'm slow paying bills again. They're on the list every day, and they just don't get done. Good thing I don't have a mortgage, or I'd be out on the street by now. They probably won't get done tomorrow, either.
One of my guilty pleasures is Beauty and the Geek (don't knock it if you haven't watched it all the way through). This time they have a twist. It had always been male geeks and female beauties. This time there's also one female geek and a male "beauty", Sam.
I don't know who picked him. He's NOT even remotely good looking. He makes me cringe, with his dead eyes, self-satisfied mouth, and sticking-up-on-top hair. I'd like to see him gone, but then his partner the girl geek would go, too, and I like her.
.
Mensa dinner tonight at the Mountain Brauhaus, near Mohonk. It was a tad expensive for this group, but the food was very good. We sat down at the table at 6:30. We got our entrees at 8:00. I was amused because after the wait of an hour and a half, five of the six at the table had inhaled their dinner within 12 minutes of its arrival (I'm a bit slow). The waitress apologized for the slow service. The place was mobbed (on a Wednesday night!) and they were short handed.
Angie's friend Nate sat next to me, and he says "sexy lingerie" is garter belts with stockings with seams up the back, and stiletto heels. Nobody else at the table had much of an opinion (Les looked confused), but Nate seemed to really get into the topic. Angie was looking at him like he'd grown a second head.
My exploration continues. I may have to write a book.
Not much else to report. I'm slow paying bills again. They're on the list every day, and they just don't get done. Good thing I don't have a mortgage, or I'd be out on the street by now. They probably won't get done tomorrow, either.
One of my guilty pleasures is Beauty and the Geek (don't knock it if you haven't watched it all the way through). This time they have a twist. It had always been male geeks and female beauties. This time there's also one female geek and a male "beauty", Sam.
I don't know who picked him. He's NOT even remotely good looking. He makes me cringe, with his dead eyes, self-satisfied mouth, and sticking-up-on-top hair. I'd like to see him gone, but then his partner the girl geek would go, too, and I like her.
.
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
1501 Heat
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
I just heard on TV that "they" expect heating oil to go up by 22% this winter. A few weeks ago I paid $1500 up front to lock in the August price for $1500 worth of oil. It was painful pocket-wise, but I guess it was a good decision.
Today I drove two hours and forty-five minutes to drop some stuff off on Daughter's back porch, then turned around and drove home. She and SIL were both still at work, and both had stuff scheduled for this evening, but I wanted them to get the stuff. So, quick trip.
On the way down and back I listened to a CD that a friend would like me to be familiar with. When I stopped at a rest area to get some food, I said to myself, "Ok, there are 14 selections on the album, and you've been listening to it for five hours. Name or describe three songs." I could think of only one. Worse, right now I can't remember even that one. Sometimes I worry about me.
.
I just heard on TV that "they" expect heating oil to go up by 22% this winter. A few weeks ago I paid $1500 up front to lock in the August price for $1500 worth of oil. It was painful pocket-wise, but I guess it was a good decision.
Today I drove two hours and forty-five minutes to drop some stuff off on Daughter's back porch, then turned around and drove home. She and SIL were both still at work, and both had stuff scheduled for this evening, but I wanted them to get the stuff. So, quick trip.
On the way down and back I listened to a CD that a friend would like me to be familiar with. When I stopped at a rest area to get some food, I said to myself, "Ok, there are 14 selections on the album, and you've been listening to it for five hours. Name or describe three songs." I could think of only one. Worse, right now I can't remember even that one. Sometimes I worry about me.
.
1500 Restroom
Dear Date:
Remember my trip to the restroom before dinner, the day of our Central Park walk? When I came out of the ladies' room, I found you wondering what had happened to me, and that while I was in the ladies' room, the hotel had chased all the men to the upstairs facilities, and turned the men's room into a temporary ladies' room.
I found the following on a joke website, and it's scarily close to my experience that day.
---------------------------------
When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied. Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.
You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants. The dispenser for the modern "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume " The Stance."
In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance." To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying,"Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!"
Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday, the one that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail.
Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet. "Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course.
You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life-form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper -not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your Mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get."
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.
At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting. You are no longer able to smile politely.
A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this."
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?"
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restrooms (rest?? You've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door!
.
Remember my trip to the restroom before dinner, the day of our Central Park walk? When I came out of the ladies' room, I found you wondering what had happened to me, and that while I was in the ladies' room, the hotel had chased all the men to the upstairs facilities, and turned the men's room into a temporary ladies' room.
I found the following on a joke website, and it's scarily close to my experience that day.
---------------------------------
When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied. Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.
You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants. The dispenser for the modern "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume " The Stance."
In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance." To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying,"Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!"
Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday, the one that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail.
Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet. "Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course.
You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life-form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper -not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your Mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get."
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.
At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting. You are no longer able to smile politely.
A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this."
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?"
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restrooms (rest?? You've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door!
.
Sunday, October 07, 2007
1499 Sunday Warming
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Today I went to a ... panel discussion? (but there was no discussion, really. It was three presenters) ... on global warming, organized by Mensa and sponsored by Sierra Club and two SUNY environmental groups. Today's portion was the science and why it's worrying. Next Sunday is the politics. The following Sunday is what can be done.
It was at 3 pm in the lecture center at SUNY New Paltz. I have a problem with that campus. It's huge, and no matter what maps I print out, the minute I enter the campus, I'm lost. Somehow, the way the roads twist around, and end suddenly, and unexpectedly become one-way, I lose all sense of direction. North becomes west, labels on the map bear no relation to signs on buildings. I always just park in the first legal-looking space I can find and ask someone to point me in the direction of the building I want.
Our current Mensa programs person is a prof at SUNY New Paltz, so she seems to think the campus is the ideal place for events. "So convenient." I hate to admit the place scares me.
I found the talks interesting. There were a lot of townspeople and students there, which was nice, but only three of us Mensans, two of whom were the organizers of the event, and me. That was disappointing, but I could have predicted it - there was no free food!
The first speaker addressed what "global warming" is, what causes it, where the greenhouse gases come from, and why it's dangerous. Even a small change causes a shift in ocean and air currents, increasing the effects.
The second speaker addressed a question I've had, which is "How do we know what the temperatures were all those thousands of years ago, when, like, there was nobody out there waving a thermometer around." There are several things they look for in ice and ocean floor cores, one of which is the proportion of two particular oxygen isotopes (I'm not a chemist and may be using the wrong term - ignore me) in the shell remains of ocean critters, and the air trapped in ice. He showed the relationship of temperature fluctuations over a few hundred thousand years in relation to the amount of methane and other greenhouse gases in the atmosphere, and how they determine those amounts.
The third speaker addressed the environmental and economic effects of rising temperatures on the state of New York. (I figure one good outcome is a shorter snowmobile season. I HATE the damn things. Noisy ground-tearer-uppers, operated by idiots with no respect for private property.)
We three Mensans went out for dinner after the program. The other two were saying that the second speaker was completely over their heads, and maybe they should review content ahead of time. I said that he's the one I found most interesting, the others talked about stuff I already knew, and I didn't find him dense at all. Oh, well.
They've had some difficulty finding politicians willing to speak at next week's session. Several well-known federal and state representatives at first agreed to participate, and then one after another they cancelled. To hot a topic, perhaps? Too small an audience? They've had to settle for poli-sci types.
I had a question I've been carrying around for two years now, and I should have asked it of the second speaker, but I forgot. The movie about the march of the penguins - the penguins walk a gazillion miles across ice shelves into Antarctica to breed and raise their chicks, because that's where they have been going for eons. Now, is it possible, even probable, that back when penguins started going there, it wasn't so terribly far? That either the ice shelves didn't extend so far out, or the ocean was higher? If so, where does that fit on the time/temperature charts he was showing us? Is there an explanation?
I'm so annoyed that I forgot.
.
Today I went to a ... panel discussion? (but there was no discussion, really. It was three presenters) ... on global warming, organized by Mensa and sponsored by Sierra Club and two SUNY environmental groups. Today's portion was the science and why it's worrying. Next Sunday is the politics. The following Sunday is what can be done.
It was at 3 pm in the lecture center at SUNY New Paltz. I have a problem with that campus. It's huge, and no matter what maps I print out, the minute I enter the campus, I'm lost. Somehow, the way the roads twist around, and end suddenly, and unexpectedly become one-way, I lose all sense of direction. North becomes west, labels on the map bear no relation to signs on buildings. I always just park in the first legal-looking space I can find and ask someone to point me in the direction of the building I want.
Our current Mensa programs person is a prof at SUNY New Paltz, so she seems to think the campus is the ideal place for events. "So convenient." I hate to admit the place scares me.
I found the talks interesting. There were a lot of townspeople and students there, which was nice, but only three of us Mensans, two of whom were the organizers of the event, and me. That was disappointing, but I could have predicted it - there was no free food!
The first speaker addressed what "global warming" is, what causes it, where the greenhouse gases come from, and why it's dangerous. Even a small change causes a shift in ocean and air currents, increasing the effects.
The second speaker addressed a question I've had, which is "How do we know what the temperatures were all those thousands of years ago, when, like, there was nobody out there waving a thermometer around." There are several things they look for in ice and ocean floor cores, one of which is the proportion of two particular oxygen isotopes (I'm not a chemist and may be using the wrong term - ignore me) in the shell remains of ocean critters, and the air trapped in ice. He showed the relationship of temperature fluctuations over a few hundred thousand years in relation to the amount of methane and other greenhouse gases in the atmosphere, and how they determine those amounts.
The third speaker addressed the environmental and economic effects of rising temperatures on the state of New York. (I figure one good outcome is a shorter snowmobile season. I HATE the damn things. Noisy ground-tearer-uppers, operated by idiots with no respect for private property.)
We three Mensans went out for dinner after the program. The other two were saying that the second speaker was completely over their heads, and maybe they should review content ahead of time. I said that he's the one I found most interesting, the others talked about stuff I already knew, and I didn't find him dense at all. Oh, well.
They've had some difficulty finding politicians willing to speak at next week's session. Several well-known federal and state representatives at first agreed to participate, and then one after another they cancelled. To hot a topic, perhaps? Too small an audience? They've had to settle for poli-sci types.
I had a question I've been carrying around for two years now, and I should have asked it of the second speaker, but I forgot. The movie about the march of the penguins - the penguins walk a gazillion miles across ice shelves into Antarctica to breed and raise their chicks, because that's where they have been going for eons. Now, is it possible, even probable, that back when penguins started going there, it wasn't so terribly far? That either the ice shelves didn't extend so far out, or the ocean was higher? If so, where does that fit on the time/temperature charts he was showing us? Is there an explanation?
I'm so annoyed that I forgot.
.
Saturday, October 06, 2007
1498 Kitty Update
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Jasper is still growing. He's the first lap cat I've had in a lifetime of cats, and he's getting too big for my lap!
Miss Thunderfoot is still snarling, but she knows attacking makes me unhappy, so there's a little less of that. Yesterday, I was sitting on the side of the bed with Thunder asleep beside me, when Jasper jumped up onto the bed. Thunder woke and hissed, but I turned her around so she wasn't facing him, and petted her until she calmed down and went back to sleep. Jasper had enough sense to stay on the other side of the bed.
Until....
For all of her ten years, Thunder has had a whippy tail. Doesn't matter whether she's happy or angry, interested or asleep, her tail flicks constantly. So there the two cats are on the bed, Thunder asleep and no longer snarling, Jasper stretching out and exploring the possibilities of a bed, and then he saw the flicking tail, and couldn't resist.
Idiot cat.
If I hadn't moved fast and grabbed Thunder around the hips as she lunged, Jasper'd be sporting one fewer ears today.
.
Jasper is still growing. He's the first lap cat I've had in a lifetime of cats, and he's getting too big for my lap!
Miss Thunderfoot is still snarling, but she knows attacking makes me unhappy, so there's a little less of that. Yesterday, I was sitting on the side of the bed with Thunder asleep beside me, when Jasper jumped up onto the bed. Thunder woke and hissed, but I turned her around so she wasn't facing him, and petted her until she calmed down and went back to sleep. Jasper had enough sense to stay on the other side of the bed.
Until....
For all of her ten years, Thunder has had a whippy tail. Doesn't matter whether she's happy or angry, interested or asleep, her tail flicks constantly. So there the two cats are on the bed, Thunder asleep and no longer snarling, Jasper stretching out and exploring the possibilities of a bed, and then he saw the flicking tail, and couldn't resist.
Idiot cat.
If I hadn't moved fast and grabbed Thunder around the hips as she lunged, Jasper'd be sporting one fewer ears today.
.
1497 Bits
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Cornell University researcher Robb Willer has concluded that men whose masculinity is challenged become more inclined to support war or buy an SUV.
"I found that if you made men more insecure about their masculinity, they displayed more homophobic attitudes, tended to support the Iraq war more and would be more willing to purchase an SUV over another type of vehicle," Willer said. "There were no increases [in desire] for other types of cars."
Those who had their masculinity threatened also said they felt more ashamed, guilty, upset and hostile than those whose masculinity was confirmed, he said.
I believe it. Don't know why it took a study to confirm it.
It leaves me wondering what effect the movement toward equality of the sexes over the past 50 years has had on male actions and reactions, having far reaching effects on energy economy and peace initiatives.
Ladies, confirm your man's masculinity. The world needs it.
------------------------
Psychology professor Richard Haier of the University of California and colleagues from the University of New Mexico have found that in general, men have nearly 6.5 times the amount of gray matter related to general intelligence compared with women, whereas women have nearly 10 times the amount of white matter related to intelligence compared to men.
"These findings suggest that human evolution has created two different types of brains designed for equally intelligent behavior," said Haier, adding that, "by pinpointing these gender-based intelligence areas, the study has the potential to aid research on dementia and other cognitive-impairment diseases in the brain."
In human brains, gray matter represents information processing centers, whereas white matter works to network these processing centers.
Hmmmm. Men, nearly 6.5 times the gray. Women, nearly 10 times the white. And he concludes that this is a design for "equally intelligent behavior". Uh huh. Would that be the same conclusion if it were reversed? Isn't a chief indicator of intelligence the ability to pull together disparate bits of information?
---------------------------
Last year I inventoried shoes in my closet. I had more than a hundred pair, some 30 years old, many unwearable, lots of high heels I've refused to wear since retiring. I cleaned out.
Last night I went after bras. There are five that I wear over and over, mainly because they're always on the top of the heap. I found I had 47 altogether, and none of them are more than four years old. My weight and style of dress have changed drastically over the past six years, up and then down, and I've had to keep buying to keep up.
I tried them all on. Seven are too large. They'll go out. Nine are too small. I'll keep them in hopes for the future. Four are suitable for sleeping in. The remaining 27 fit, sort of.
Some of the 27 are flat-out uncomfortable. Whatever possessed a manufacturer to use that stiff nylon thread in seams? No matter how you snip, or match-melt, or sew a scrap of fabric over, somewhere a thread end works loose and stabs all day. And even though they're sexier, I simply cannot abide a narrow strap. They cut my shoulders. A few have straps too far apart, and they fall off my shoulders. Those will each get one full day of "test wearing", and then live or die based on how happy I am to take them off in the evening.
Several flatten or round me rather than lift and shape, but I bought them and will keep them because they have adjustable straps, or plunging fronts, which is useful with some clothing.
I keep buying strapless bras, searching for a good one, and failing. Seems like they all have stiff or padded cups, and in my size the cups are pointed! Agh! I look like I'm wearing missile nosecones. They fit, but they don't work. They embarrass. I'll keep the least pointy, but the rest may as well go.
So when I work it down to fit, comfort, and shape, for daily wearing, I end up with (ta rah) five (not including the "specialty" ones).
What is really interesting is that size seems to have very little to do with fit. The one I'm wearing right now, that fits perfectly, is the same size as all the ones that are way too large, and a few of the too small ones are the same size. Of those that fit, they are three different sizes.
What is really annoying is that when I find a bra that's perfect, it seems like I must have bought the last of a discontinued style. I can never find it again, in stores or online. That's sorta how I ended up with so many. A never-ending, frustrating, search for perfection.
.
Cornell University researcher Robb Willer has concluded that men whose masculinity is challenged become more inclined to support war or buy an SUV.
"I found that if you made men more insecure about their masculinity, they displayed more homophobic attitudes, tended to support the Iraq war more and would be more willing to purchase an SUV over another type of vehicle," Willer said. "There were no increases [in desire] for other types of cars."
Those who had their masculinity threatened also said they felt more ashamed, guilty, upset and hostile than those whose masculinity was confirmed, he said.
I believe it. Don't know why it took a study to confirm it.
It leaves me wondering what effect the movement toward equality of the sexes over the past 50 years has had on male actions and reactions, having far reaching effects on energy economy and peace initiatives.
Ladies, confirm your man's masculinity. The world needs it.
------------------------
Psychology professor Richard Haier of the University of California and colleagues from the University of New Mexico have found that in general, men have nearly 6.5 times the amount of gray matter related to general intelligence compared with women, whereas women have nearly 10 times the amount of white matter related to intelligence compared to men.
"These findings suggest that human evolution has created two different types of brains designed for equally intelligent behavior," said Haier, adding that, "by pinpointing these gender-based intelligence areas, the study has the potential to aid research on dementia and other cognitive-impairment diseases in the brain."
In human brains, gray matter represents information processing centers, whereas white matter works to network these processing centers.
Hmmmm. Men, nearly 6.5 times the gray. Women, nearly 10 times the white. And he concludes that this is a design for "equally intelligent behavior". Uh huh. Would that be the same conclusion if it were reversed? Isn't a chief indicator of intelligence the ability to pull together disparate bits of information?
---------------------------
Last year I inventoried shoes in my closet. I had more than a hundred pair, some 30 years old, many unwearable, lots of high heels I've refused to wear since retiring. I cleaned out.
Last night I went after bras. There are five that I wear over and over, mainly because they're always on the top of the heap. I found I had 47 altogether, and none of them are more than four years old. My weight and style of dress have changed drastically over the past six years, up and then down, and I've had to keep buying to keep up.
I tried them all on. Seven are too large. They'll go out. Nine are too small. I'll keep them in hopes for the future. Four are suitable for sleeping in. The remaining 27 fit, sort of.
Some of the 27 are flat-out uncomfortable. Whatever possessed a manufacturer to use that stiff nylon thread in seams? No matter how you snip, or match-melt, or sew a scrap of fabric over, somewhere a thread end works loose and stabs all day. And even though they're sexier, I simply cannot abide a narrow strap. They cut my shoulders. A few have straps too far apart, and they fall off my shoulders. Those will each get one full day of "test wearing", and then live or die based on how happy I am to take them off in the evening.
Several flatten or round me rather than lift and shape, but I bought them and will keep them because they have adjustable straps, or plunging fronts, which is useful with some clothing.
I keep buying strapless bras, searching for a good one, and failing. Seems like they all have stiff or padded cups, and in my size the cups are pointed! Agh! I look like I'm wearing missile nosecones. They fit, but they don't work. They embarrass. I'll keep the least pointy, but the rest may as well go.
So when I work it down to fit, comfort, and shape, for daily wearing, I end up with (ta rah) five (not including the "specialty" ones).
What is really interesting is that size seems to have very little to do with fit. The one I'm wearing right now, that fits perfectly, is the same size as all the ones that are way too large, and a few of the too small ones are the same size. Of those that fit, they are three different sizes.
What is really annoying is that when I find a bra that's perfect, it seems like I must have bought the last of a discontinued style. I can never find it again, in stores or online. That's sorta how I ended up with so many. A never-ending, frustrating, search for perfection.
.
Friday, October 05, 2007
1496 Hot
Friday, October 5, 2007
It's well into October, and it's 85 degrees out there. Weird. I switched from A/C to heat several weeks ago (a major pain), and I've been suffering. I know that if I switch back, it'll get cold immediately.
-------------------------------------
Another kind of heat wave has passed through. A friend has expressed surprise that at my age and experience level, I am completely unfamiliar with sexy lingerie. I don't own any. All I have is functional and utilitarian underwear.
I'm wondering if it could be interesting. So I've been wandering around Victoria's Secret and Frederick's online shopping sites, and I'm very confused. (Also a bit embarrassed. I really can't imagine ME in any of that stuff!)
Where's the line between slutty and sexy? Is there one? A friend says no, not in the bedroom. If you wear it outside, then you get slutty, but in private, nothing is slutty. I also can't figure out when one would wear it. So she educated me. Hmmmm. Doesn't sound like you'd get anything else done of an evening....
That led me to wondering why it never entered my mind or experience before.
Ex#1 spent most of our marriage in Germany, in the army, and when he finally got out, I wasn't interested in encouraging him. Ex#2 wasn't interested period, and would have been annoyed at any expression of interest on my part. Jay thought the sexiest thing was panties and a tight white T-shirt, and that was my usual sleeping attire, so he was happy as a pig in mud. On other fronts (and there were many in my twenties and early thirties) men were happy just to finally get me out of my clothes.
A lot of men I've "known" best, would quite frankly have been turned off by many of the things I've seen on Frederick's. Sort of an "Eeek! What the heck is that!" reaction.
So, I'm gathering opinions. Suggestions, please, as to what works and when, and how. Male and female, please. Anonymous, if you like. I'm really at sea here. Maybe even leave links to suggestions. (BTW - thongs are out. I find them irritating, painful, and extremely annoying, no matter what size I've tried.)
Thanks.
(P.S. I bought this, in black, 'cause I sorta liked it, and some "c-less" panties ('cause they were on sale), and a merry widow ('cause that I can use anyway), so I'm sorta on my way. Tip-toeing lightly.)
.
It's well into October, and it's 85 degrees out there. Weird. I switched from A/C to heat several weeks ago (a major pain), and I've been suffering. I know that if I switch back, it'll get cold immediately.
-------------------------------------
Another kind of heat wave has passed through. A friend has expressed surprise that at my age and experience level, I am completely unfamiliar with sexy lingerie. I don't own any. All I have is functional and utilitarian underwear.
I'm wondering if it could be interesting. So I've been wandering around Victoria's Secret and Frederick's online shopping sites, and I'm very confused. (Also a bit embarrassed. I really can't imagine ME in any of that stuff!)
Where's the line between slutty and sexy? Is there one? A friend says no, not in the bedroom. If you wear it outside, then you get slutty, but in private, nothing is slutty. I also can't figure out when one would wear it. So she educated me. Hmmmm. Doesn't sound like you'd get anything else done of an evening....
That led me to wondering why it never entered my mind or experience before.
Ex#1 spent most of our marriage in Germany, in the army, and when he finally got out, I wasn't interested in encouraging him. Ex#2 wasn't interested period, and would have been annoyed at any expression of interest on my part. Jay thought the sexiest thing was panties and a tight white T-shirt, and that was my usual sleeping attire, so he was happy as a pig in mud. On other fronts (and there were many in my twenties and early thirties) men were happy just to finally get me out of my clothes.
A lot of men I've "known" best, would quite frankly have been turned off by many of the things I've seen on Frederick's. Sort of an "Eeek! What the heck is that!" reaction.
So, I'm gathering opinions. Suggestions, please, as to what works and when, and how. Male and female, please. Anonymous, if you like. I'm really at sea here. Maybe even leave links to suggestions. (BTW - thongs are out. I find them irritating, painful, and extremely annoying, no matter what size I've tried.)
Thanks.
(P.S. I bought this, in black, 'cause I sorta liked it, and some "c-less" panties ('cause they were on sale), and a merry widow ('cause that I can use anyway), so I'm sorta on my way. Tip-toeing lightly.)
.
1495 Look-alikes
At www.MyHeritage.com, you can give them a photo, and they use face recognition techniques to find celebrities you look like. Ahem.
The first photo I used was so bad I'm not allowing anyone else to see it, but it's me unadorned. This is what I got:
So then I tried a photo I like better, and got this:
What's with all the men?! Unfortunately, I can see the Jesse Jackson, but please explain how I can have a 49% intersection with Iman, AND 51% with Alan Greenspan! Well, we all have two eyes, a nose, and a mouth, I guess.
Third try:
Oh Good Grief! All men! And two full beards! I give up.
----------------------------------------------
A little later, having returned from licking my wounds, I decided to try my mother's high school picture:
I guess it's not the system. It's me. I wonder how people know I'm female? The perfume, I guess.
.
The first photo I used was so bad I'm not allowing anyone else to see it, but it's me unadorned. This is what I got:
So then I tried a photo I like better, and got this:
What's with all the men?! Unfortunately, I can see the Jesse Jackson, but please explain how I can have a 49% intersection with Iman, AND 51% with Alan Greenspan! Well, we all have two eyes, a nose, and a mouth, I guess.
Third try:
Oh Good Grief! All men! And two full beards! I give up.
----------------------------------------------
A little later, having returned from licking my wounds, I decided to try my mother's high school picture:
I guess it's not the system. It's me. I wonder how people know I'm female? The perfume, I guess.
.
1494 Loan
Me: Can you lend me twenty dollars?
He: Yeah, sure, ok.
Me: But give me only ten of it.
He: Only ten? Why only ten?
Me: Because then you owe me ten, and I owe you ten, and we're even.
He: Yeah, sure, ok.
Me: But give me only ten of it.
He: Only ten? Why only ten?
Me: Because then you owe me ten, and I owe you ten, and we're even.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
1493 Rebellion
Thursday, October 4, 2007
If there's a problem that we're aware of, and we know what we should do, but it seems like whatever we do won't be enough to make any real difference, instead of doing the right thing anyway, or doing nothing, the human tendency is to do exactly the opposite of what we know we should do.
Like if we know we're overweight, and our attempts to lose weight don't seem very effective, we give up and eat MORE than we know we should.
Or if someone tells us our SUV wastes gas and contributes to global warming, we're likely to buy a Hummer.
Or if someone is riding us at work, we'll leave early.
I wonder why.
.
If there's a problem that we're aware of, and we know what we should do, but it seems like whatever we do won't be enough to make any real difference, instead of doing the right thing anyway, or doing nothing, the human tendency is to do exactly the opposite of what we know we should do.
Like if we know we're overweight, and our attempts to lose weight don't seem very effective, we give up and eat MORE than we know we should.
Or if someone tells us our SUV wastes gas and contributes to global warming, we're likely to buy a Hummer.
Or if someone is riding us at work, we'll leave early.
I wonder why.
.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
1492 Long Lunch
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Piper and I had agreed last week that we would go over my account and have lunch sometime this week, but Monday and Tuesday were taken up with museum business, and I want to keep Thursday and Friday open for higher priority socializing, just in case, so that left today.
I had so much I wanted to do today. I need to make some medical and veterinarian appointments, do some laundry, shovel out the kitchen, and get the recycle out. I should have known better.
Nothing but lunch got done.
Tomorrow is another day.
.
Piper and I had agreed last week that we would go over my account and have lunch sometime this week, but Monday and Tuesday were taken up with museum business, and I want to keep Thursday and Friday open for higher priority socializing, just in case, so that left today.
I had so much I wanted to do today. I need to make some medical and veterinarian appointments, do some laundry, shovel out the kitchen, and get the recycle out. I should have known better.
Nothing but lunch got done.
Tomorrow is another day.
.
1491 Sunshine
You've heard the newsreaders' reports and our government's assessments of the conditions in Iraq. Sunshine, a 15-year-old blogger in Iraq, has a different view. Her blog is "Days of My life". I highly recommend it.
Some quotes from her most recent post:
The terrorists are like cancer everyday they increase in size and yet no one can vanquish them. they kill innocents in the name of a sect or religion while they don't belong to any. they are only pretenders who don't have ethics, believes, nor humanity .they try to disperse us, and make us live in fear & danger, they want us to be hopeless, everyday many explosions happen, many innocents get killed and many Iraqis get kidnapped, there are more than 5 millions orphans in Iraq, and so many widows, my friend and I counted 12 car bombs in 48 hours, in one of the sides of the city, we didn't count the mines, nor how many times we heard shooting (they are so many to number).Many times I say the terrorists won't succeed, evil don't win, but I sometimes feel they are achieving their goal.
"My mom's aunt live in the most dangerous part in Baghdad, she said 'when the militias threaten the Sunnis, we hide in our Shiites neighbors' houses, and when the militias threaten the Shiites they come and hide in our houses.'"
A different view of the Sunni/Shiite relationship, eh?
.
Some quotes from her most recent post:
The terrorists are like cancer everyday they increase in size and yet no one can vanquish them. they kill innocents in the name of a sect or religion while they don't belong to any. they are only pretenders who don't have ethics, believes, nor humanity .they try to disperse us, and make us live in fear & danger, they want us to be hopeless, everyday many explosions happen, many innocents get killed and many Iraqis get kidnapped, there are more than 5 millions orphans in Iraq, and so many widows, my friend and I counted 12 car bombs in 48 hours, in one of the sides of the city, we didn't count the mines, nor how many times we heard shooting (they are so many to number).Many times I say the terrorists won't succeed, evil don't win, but I sometimes feel they are achieving their goal.
"My mom's aunt live in the most dangerous part in Baghdad, she said 'when the militias threaten the Sunnis, we hide in our Shiites neighbors' houses, and when the militias threaten the Shiites they come and hide in our houses.'"
A different view of the Sunni/Shiite relationship, eh?
.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
1490 Museum Guests
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
I had my keychain camera at the Maritime Museum, so I took some pictures of visitors.
This one is a catamaran:
This is a big tour boat:
The gondolas did arrive, but I didn't get any pictures. I missed seeing them coming up the Rondout. By the time I noticed them they were moored.
.
I had my keychain camera at the Maritime Museum, so I took some pictures of visitors.
This one is a catamaran:
This is a big tour boat:
The gondolas did arrive, but I didn't get any pictures. I missed seeing them coming up the Rondout. By the time I noticed them they were moored.
.
1489 Museum Done!
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
I went back to the museum today, and the new guy came in, and we processed a few payments that had come in, and sent out membership cards for them, AND sent out renewal reminders for October renewals. So now he has gone through the complete cycle once. I told him to call me when he's ready to do the next batch, and I'll sit in.
He did worry me at one point. He was supposed to be creating a new member record, and I glanced over, and instead of filling in a blank record, he was overwriting an existing record. Huh? It worries me that he didn't seem to see anything wrong with that, that he didn't recognize that there was a problem.
The really surprising part is that I'm not worried about it. Not so very long ago I'd be afraid that he'd screw up the data base, that records will go missing or be duplicated, I'd be riding him to understand every aspect so he'd anticipate the ramifications of his actions, and eventually I might go to the powers and say "Um, I don't think he can handle it...".
Not now. I'm very surprised at how little I care. I really don't care. I have been telling those folks that the data base is a mess and should be redesigned, and I even contributed a significant amount of money last year earmarked for hiring a DB expert, and nothing has been done. And now I'm just happy to be out of it.
After we update the database, we do a backup onto a floppy disk (yeah, floppy). So if he does screw it up, it can be repaired. Well, today, he did the backup following the instructions. It was interesting that the system went through the whole process, including where it says that there are already copies, should it overwrite? and we answer yes and then it says backup complete.
However, he had forgotten to put the floppy in the drive. There was NO floppy in the drive.
So, uh, where did the backup copy go? Hard drive? The same hard drive the original is on? Not wise.
Given the new guy's propensity to destroy records, maybe I should follow up on that. Alert Russ that either there IS NO backup, or the backup is somewhere other than the floppy everybody thinks it's on.
.
I went back to the museum today, and the new guy came in, and we processed a few payments that had come in, and sent out membership cards for them, AND sent out renewal reminders for October renewals. So now he has gone through the complete cycle once. I told him to call me when he's ready to do the next batch, and I'll sit in.
He did worry me at one point. He was supposed to be creating a new member record, and I glanced over, and instead of filling in a blank record, he was overwriting an existing record. Huh? It worries me that he didn't seem to see anything wrong with that, that he didn't recognize that there was a problem.
The really surprising part is that I'm not worried about it. Not so very long ago I'd be afraid that he'd screw up the data base, that records will go missing or be duplicated, I'd be riding him to understand every aspect so he'd anticipate the ramifications of his actions, and eventually I might go to the powers and say "Um, I don't think he can handle it...".
Not now. I'm very surprised at how little I care. I really don't care. I have been telling those folks that the data base is a mess and should be redesigned, and I even contributed a significant amount of money last year earmarked for hiring a DB expert, and nothing has been done. And now I'm just happy to be out of it.
After we update the database, we do a backup onto a floppy disk (yeah, floppy). So if he does screw it up, it can be repaired. Well, today, he did the backup following the instructions. It was interesting that the system went through the whole process, including where it says that there are already copies, should it overwrite? and we answer yes and then it says backup complete.
However, he had forgotten to put the floppy in the drive. There was NO floppy in the drive.
So, uh, where did the backup copy go? Hard drive? The same hard drive the original is on? Not wise.
Given the new guy's propensity to destroy records, maybe I should follow up on that. Alert Russ that either there IS NO backup, or the backup is somewhere other than the floppy everybody thinks it's on.
.
Monday, October 01, 2007
1488 Museum Sigh
Monday, October 1, 2007
Last Wednesday the new guy and I had agreed to meet today at the Maritime Museum to continue the transfer of the membership responsibilities.
I got there on time. He never showed up, and did not answer his phone.
So I finished up the September payments myself, and printed and mailed the membership cards. Sigh. I thought I'd be finished with this part today. Since he didn't get to do the membership cards, that means I have to babysit with him the next time cards have to be done. There are so many tiny "if-then" details that you just can't document, and so many things you have to SEE done to understand it. Wasted opportunity today.
Renewal reminder letters for October have to go out to people by the end of this week, and I'll be very annoyed if he can't make it in for that. Doing things myself gets them done, but doesn't get it transferred to him.
Oh, well. Maybe it's not all bad....
There are some real Venetian gondolas, with singing gondoliers, traveling down the Hudson River, headed for NYC. They started from Albany this morning, will be staying overnight up the river (Athens, I think), are expected to arrive at the Maritime Museum docks by 4 pm tomorrow, and will be camping overnight on the museum grounds tomorrow night. If I have to go in tomorrow, maybe I'll get to meet them and visit the gondolas.
.
Last Wednesday the new guy and I had agreed to meet today at the Maritime Museum to continue the transfer of the membership responsibilities.
I got there on time. He never showed up, and did not answer his phone.
So I finished up the September payments myself, and printed and mailed the membership cards. Sigh. I thought I'd be finished with this part today. Since he didn't get to do the membership cards, that means I have to babysit with him the next time cards have to be done. There are so many tiny "if-then" details that you just can't document, and so many things you have to SEE done to understand it. Wasted opportunity today.
Renewal reminder letters for October have to go out to people by the end of this week, and I'll be very annoyed if he can't make it in for that. Doing things myself gets them done, but doesn't get it transferred to him.
Oh, well. Maybe it's not all bad....
There are some real Venetian gondolas, with singing gondoliers, traveling down the Hudson River, headed for NYC. They started from Albany this morning, will be staying overnight up the river (Athens, I think), are expected to arrive at the Maritime Museum docks by 4 pm tomorrow, and will be camping overnight on the museum grounds tomorrow night. If I have to go in tomorrow, maybe I'll get to meet them and visit the gondolas.
.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
1487 Who is Robert Devaren?
I get maybe four spam emails a day on my AOL id, and six on the Yahoo id, which is pretty good, I guess. Almost all of it goes directly into the spam folder, so I don't even see it unless I open that folder.
Other people report more. I have to wonder what web sites they visit.
Most of what I get are offers for drugs. When Jay was sick and I couldn't get out to the store, I bought a lot of sickroom supplies online, like bed pads, hospital gowns, swabs, adult diapers, and so on, so I guess I'm on those lists. And I visit a lot of investment advice sites, so that accounts for all the new stock offers.
On AOL I'm still using Jay's userid, which is decidedly male, so that might account for the penis enlargement and Viagra ads, and the "come see my explicit video" offers.
Altogether I have ten or more email ids, on four different services, and they are all very different from one another.
But now there's a new twist.
On about half the spam the past two weeks or so on ALL of my email ids the subject line is personally addressed to somebody named "Robert Devaren". Like: "ATTN: Robert Devaren You are eligible for...", or "Robert Devaren it's time to renew your subscription".
Always "Robert Devaren", never any other name.
I Googled "Robert Devaren", and there is a guy by that name who bowls at Burnt Hill Lanes, in Burnt Hills, NY, which is near Schenectady, just up the road about an hour.
Isn't this odd? A friend says that spam generators will sometimes chose a name that seems close to the email id to make it look more like they "know" you, but "Robert Devaren" is nowhere NEAR either my real name or Jay's, and nothing like any of my ids.
It doesn't make any sense.
.
Other people report more. I have to wonder what web sites they visit.
Most of what I get are offers for drugs. When Jay was sick and I couldn't get out to the store, I bought a lot of sickroom supplies online, like bed pads, hospital gowns, swabs, adult diapers, and so on, so I guess I'm on those lists. And I visit a lot of investment advice sites, so that accounts for all the new stock offers.
On AOL I'm still using Jay's userid, which is decidedly male, so that might account for the penis enlargement and Viagra ads, and the "come see my explicit video" offers.
Altogether I have ten or more email ids, on four different services, and they are all very different from one another.
But now there's a new twist.
On about half the spam the past two weeks or so on ALL of my email ids the subject line is personally addressed to somebody named "Robert Devaren". Like: "ATTN: Robert Devaren You are eligible for...", or "Robert Devaren it's time to renew your subscription".
Always "Robert Devaren", never any other name.
I Googled "Robert Devaren", and there is a guy by that name who bowls at Burnt Hill Lanes, in Burnt Hills, NY, which is near Schenectady, just up the road about an hour.
Isn't this odd? A friend says that spam generators will sometimes chose a name that seems close to the email id to make it look more like they "know" you, but "Robert Devaren" is nowhere NEAR either my real name or Jay's, and nothing like any of my ids.
It doesn't make any sense.
.
1486 What Breed of Puppy am I?
| You Are a Chihuahua Puppy |
 Small, high strung, and loyal. You do best in the city with adults - young kids could crush you! |
Oh, my! How did they know? Well, the small and loyal parts are right, but I'm not high strung, and I'm ok in the city, but prefer country. Kids? I dunno. Could be....
1485 Catching Up
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Let's see, where did I leave off? Wednesday? Today's Saturday. Late.
Thursday I met a friend (the long distance one) in Newburgh. Dinner, then we watched a movie DVD on his laptop, then a bar with music, a late snack, lots of talking. And stuff.
Friday I got home about 2-ish, returned a bunch of phone calls, potted around on the internet, some other busywork.
Today I went to the Rhinebeck craft fair with a friend. He picked me up here. The fall fair isn't as big as the spring one, but there was still lots of good stuff. He bought some venison (craft?), and some dip mixes in the foods building, and I bought a pen and watercolor rendering of the Mohonk Mountain House and some pickled eggs. I do love pickled eggs.
Then we went to dinner (it took three restaurants to find one with less than a 45 minute wait, I was about ready to suggest venison and pickled eggs for dinner), and then to his driveway where I transferred to my minivan (his car having been repaired, he didn't need my van any more), then home.
One thing about this friend - he argues with me about everything. It's goodnatured arguing, mainly that he insists on precision in everything, and I'm more relaxed, and none of it's important. Anyway, today we were looking at some sketches of the downtown Kingston area, and I said something about the Rondout area, and I pronounced it "ron dout". He said that although it is spelled Rondout, it's pronounced "round out", that he always thought, and still thinks, "ron dout" is correct, but everytime he pronounced it that way, people corrected him and said it's "round out". I said that the only people who pronounce it "round out" are people who don't know how to pronounce it, and probably don't know how to spell it. They're wrong. The people at the museum on the Rondout pronounce it "ron dout" and they should know. He said he agreed with me, and then ...
... and then ...
... he proceeded to attempt to convince me that I should pronounce it "round out"!
I flipped. I punched him and said "Damn it all anyway! Here I am telling you YOU'RE RIGHT, and you're STILL ARGUING WITH ME?"
Bedtime. I'm really tired.
.
Let's see, where did I leave off? Wednesday? Today's Saturday. Late.
Thursday I met a friend (the long distance one) in Newburgh. Dinner, then we watched a movie DVD on his laptop, then a bar with music, a late snack, lots of talking. And stuff.
Friday I got home about 2-ish, returned a bunch of phone calls, potted around on the internet, some other busywork.
Today I went to the Rhinebeck craft fair with a friend. He picked me up here. The fall fair isn't as big as the spring one, but there was still lots of good stuff. He bought some venison (craft?), and some dip mixes in the foods building, and I bought a pen and watercolor rendering of the Mohonk Mountain House and some pickled eggs. I do love pickled eggs.
Then we went to dinner (it took three restaurants to find one with less than a 45 minute wait, I was about ready to suggest venison and pickled eggs for dinner), and then to his driveway where I transferred to my minivan (his car having been repaired, he didn't need my van any more), then home.
One thing about this friend - he argues with me about everything. It's goodnatured arguing, mainly that he insists on precision in everything, and I'm more relaxed, and none of it's important. Anyway, today we were looking at some sketches of the downtown Kingston area, and I said something about the Rondout area, and I pronounced it "ron dout". He said that although it is spelled Rondout, it's pronounced "round out", that he always thought, and still thinks, "ron dout" is correct, but everytime he pronounced it that way, people corrected him and said it's "round out". I said that the only people who pronounce it "round out" are people who don't know how to pronounce it, and probably don't know how to spell it. They're wrong. The people at the museum on the Rondout pronounce it "ron dout" and they should know. He said he agreed with me, and then ...
... and then ...
... he proceeded to attempt to convince me that I should pronounce it "round out"!
I flipped. I punched him and said "Damn it all anyway! Here I am telling you YOU'RE RIGHT, and you're STILL ARGUING WITH ME?"
Bedtime. I'm really tired.
.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
1484 Transfer at the Museum
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
The new guy and I got together at the museum today, and I showed him how to process the membership dues payments. Four hours.
We didn't finish all the September checks, but he has a good grasp of what he's doing and will be able to finish them on his own before we get together again next Monday.
On Monday things will get more complicated. We'll be printing address labels and membership cards and putting together mailing packets.
----------------------
My distance friend is planning to leave work a bit early tomorrow so we'll have a good portion of the late afternoon and early evening together, meeting halfway. That's nice. I am hungry for time with him. We've been dating for six months now, but it's been so spread out over time it's more like only two months.
----------------------
My DVD player/recorder is ignoring me. For a while, it refused to respond to the ON/OFF button on either the remote or the console itself. Roman suggested that I unplug it, and it might reset when I plugged it back in, so I did. Now it recognizes the ON/OFF, but nothing else. It won't display the menu, and it seems to think it has a 2-hour recording session pending (but it doesn't). I am angry and frustrated.
Naturally, the 183,674-page instruction book doesn't address this.
.
The new guy and I got together at the museum today, and I showed him how to process the membership dues payments. Four hours.
We didn't finish all the September checks, but he has a good grasp of what he's doing and will be able to finish them on his own before we get together again next Monday.
On Monday things will get more complicated. We'll be printing address labels and membership cards and putting together mailing packets.
----------------------
My distance friend is planning to leave work a bit early tomorrow so we'll have a good portion of the late afternoon and early evening together, meeting halfway. That's nice. I am hungry for time with him. We've been dating for six months now, but it's been so spread out over time it's more like only two months.
----------------------
My DVD player/recorder is ignoring me. For a while, it refused to respond to the ON/OFF button on either the remote or the console itself. Roman suggested that I unplug it, and it might reset when I plugged it back in, so I did. Now it recognizes the ON/OFF, but nothing else. It won't display the menu, and it seems to think it has a 2-hour recording session pending (but it doesn't). I am angry and frustrated.
Naturally, the 183,674-page instruction book doesn't address this.
.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
1483 Sore Throat
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
The hot spots started in the back of my throat last night. A little sinus snuffling, but no other symptoms.
Big date Thursday, and museum stuff to do tomorrow and Friday. I can't get sick!
I've been gargling Listerine (and oh, wow, it burns!) I need some of those little red cinnamon candies - red hots? Cinnamon kills germs and fungi. This is probably a virus, but at least the cinnamon will help to stave off a secondary infection.
A friend's car has popped its radiator, so while he's waiting for the part to arrive, I've lent him my minivan. The "check engine" light is on again, but the only thing that's acting up is the cruise control. I drove it to his house this afternoon, then he drove me back home, with dinner on the way.
I just wish he didn't honk the horn so much. I am of the opinion that horns are for avoiding accidents. He seems to think it's for registering annoyance. What gets me is that if he and the other driver were on foot, and exactly the same things happened, he'd never snap at the other person. It annoys me that he finds the car a wrap of anonymity or power or something. This is one of the character flaws that keeps me at a distance.
.
The hot spots started in the back of my throat last night. A little sinus snuffling, but no other symptoms.
Big date Thursday, and museum stuff to do tomorrow and Friday. I can't get sick!
I've been gargling Listerine (and oh, wow, it burns!) I need some of those little red cinnamon candies - red hots? Cinnamon kills germs and fungi. This is probably a virus, but at least the cinnamon will help to stave off a secondary infection.
A friend's car has popped its radiator, so while he's waiting for the part to arrive, I've lent him my minivan. The "check engine" light is on again, but the only thing that's acting up is the cruise control. I drove it to his house this afternoon, then he drove me back home, with dinner on the way.
I just wish he didn't honk the horn so much. I am of the opinion that horns are for avoiding accidents. He seems to think it's for registering annoyance. What gets me is that if he and the other driver were on foot, and exactly the same things happened, he'd never snap at the other person. It annoys me that he finds the car a wrap of anonymity or power or something. This is one of the character flaws that keeps me at a distance.
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Monday, September 24, 2007
1482 Errands
Monday, September 24, 2007
[Later edit - fixed my left/right confusion (a real learning disability!) in the penultimate paragraph.]
I ran errands today. Post office, picked up some packages. Bank, deposited a check. Electronics store, picked up some button batteries. Oil change etc. for Aerio. Piper, asked him to have a check cut for me so I can pay the county real estate taxes.
Spent some time talking with him about his living situation. He wants out of his relationship (he thought he was out, but she came back) and he doesn't know how to do it gently and without guilt. You can't. 'Tain't possible.
I was leaving the mall earlier this afternoon and saw a young man sitting by the side of the road. He had long sandy hair with a bandanna around his forehead, flowers painted on his face (at least I hope they were painted, not permanent), and rings in his nose and ears (possibly more, I didn't get a good look). He was sitting in the lotus position, holding a sign that said "Traveling. Need food donation. Anything will help."
Shades of the seventies!
I'd have tossed him a few dollars, just for nostalgia's sake, except that the spot he chose to sit made that impossible. Two malls empty out onto an access road. Lots of cars jockeying to be in the proper lane at the light. Theleftmost rightmost lane dumps onto the bridge access ramp and even though there's a light, the traffic in that lane moves pretty steadily. No room at the sides to pull over, and if you stop in the lane, you'll get someone climbing your bumper and honking. And that's where the kid chose to sit. On the left right, on the grass.
I wonder how long it took him to figure it out.
.
[Later edit - fixed my left/right confusion (a real learning disability!) in the penultimate paragraph.]
I ran errands today. Post office, picked up some packages. Bank, deposited a check. Electronics store, picked up some button batteries. Oil change etc. for Aerio. Piper, asked him to have a check cut for me so I can pay the county real estate taxes.
Spent some time talking with him about his living situation. He wants out of his relationship (he thought he was out, but she came back) and he doesn't know how to do it gently and without guilt. You can't. 'Tain't possible.
I was leaving the mall earlier this afternoon and saw a young man sitting by the side of the road. He had long sandy hair with a bandanna around his forehead, flowers painted on his face (at least I hope they were painted, not permanent), and rings in his nose and ears (possibly more, I didn't get a good look). He was sitting in the lotus position, holding a sign that said "Traveling. Need food donation. Anything will help."
Shades of the seventies!
I'd have tossed him a few dollars, just for nostalgia's sake, except that the spot he chose to sit made that impossible. Two malls empty out onto an access road. Lots of cars jockeying to be in the proper lane at the light. The
I wonder how long it took him to figure it out.
.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
1481 Writers' Pool
Sunday, September 23, 2007
We had a "Meet the Writers"/Pool Party/Pot Luck dinner this afternoon, at the home of a Mensan on the flat land just below the Shawangunk ramparts.
People who write for the newsletter were supposed to be the guests of honor, so the rest of us who've been reading their contributions could finally meet them. Of course, the only writers who showed up (two of them!) were the usual who always show up when free food is offered. There were maybe eleven of us there, which for our group is a very good turnout.
Also typically mensan, there were two entree offerings, and 9 desserts. A little coordination needed there....
I was amused that three people had reminded me to bring a bathing suit, but the only ones who actually did were myself and another woman. She actually went into the pool. I didn't even put a suit on - the sun was warm and bright, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, but the water temperature was 63 degrees. I consider that hypothermia range!
The conversation was pretty good, ranging from politics to the difficulty in getting speakers for the upcoming roundtables on global warming, to the abundance of animals on the roads lately, to the habits of wild turkeys, to gastronomic chemistry - what really happens to aspartame in the body (it ain't pretty).
The hosts own three large dogs - a standard poodle, a mastiff mix, and a lab mix. They all fell in love with me (and I with them), and the mastiff in particular licked every spot of exposed skin on my body. Makes me want a dog again.
.
We had a "Meet the Writers"/Pool Party/Pot Luck dinner this afternoon, at the home of a Mensan on the flat land just below the Shawangunk ramparts.
People who write for the newsletter were supposed to be the guests of honor, so the rest of us who've been reading their contributions could finally meet them. Of course, the only writers who showed up (two of them!) were the usual who always show up when free food is offered. There were maybe eleven of us there, which for our group is a very good turnout.
Also typically mensan, there were two entree offerings, and 9 desserts. A little coordination needed there....
I was amused that three people had reminded me to bring a bathing suit, but the only ones who actually did were myself and another woman. She actually went into the pool. I didn't even put a suit on - the sun was warm and bright, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, but the water temperature was 63 degrees. I consider that hypothermia range!
The conversation was pretty good, ranging from politics to the difficulty in getting speakers for the upcoming roundtables on global warming, to the abundance of animals on the roads lately, to the habits of wild turkeys, to gastronomic chemistry - what really happens to aspartame in the body (it ain't pretty).
The hosts own three large dogs - a standard poodle, a mastiff mix, and a lab mix. They all fell in love with me (and I with them), and the mastiff in particular licked every spot of exposed skin on my body. Makes me want a dog again.
.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
1480 Movie Review
Saturday, September 22, 2007
[Note - If you're looking for the Cusack/Jackson ghost movie, that's "1408", not "1480".]
The best part of the movie we saw tonight will be reviewing it.
My friend apologized in the parking lot for dragging me out for it, but I can't remember the last time I saw a movie in a theater, so I said "Oh, no, it's ok. Better a bad movie than no movie at all." She agreed. At least we have the experience to complain about over dinner for a few weeks.
The movie was "Silk". The novel may or may not have been good, there's no way to tell short of finding and reading it. The screenplay was terrible. The acting was wooden. You know how you have a runthrough of a play at some point during production, to map out placements, props, lighting, timing, when everyone just walks around and reads the lines? That's what this was like. Just reading the lines. Flatly. There was not only no passion, there was no emotion. Nothing. There was a brief moment (the hung boy) when the lead actor almost used his facial muscles, but the director didn't take advantage of it.
The trek across Asia to Japan could have been interesting, but the director blew it. Distance shots of one terrain after another of plod, plod, plodding. And since the guy went back two more times, we got exactly the same plod, plod, plodding scenes two more times!
My friend complained about the music, but I didn't notice the music.
What finally killed it for me, what destroyed the last bit of charity I may have had for the screenwriter or director, was the "twist" at the end. It was simply impossible. The woman who wrote the letter could not POSSIBLY have known that the woman in Japan and the man had never touched. That she would write what she wrote (hell, that she would write a letter at all!) is simply inconceivable. Unless, of course, as I suspect, the director left out all of the human relations part of the story so he could fit in the plod, plod, plodding.
Unless, of course, I slept through that part without realizing it. I don't think I did, but given the pace of this movie, I could have, I suppose.
My friend started giggling at the "twist" at the end, and her suppressed giggles sounded like sobbing. It was weird, but I was slightly embarrassed that someone might think she was overcome by emotion. "Like, duh? What kind of idiot are you, lady?"
The theater, on the other hand, was very comfortable. Tiny, a few rows of individual comfy bentwood easy chairs, with soft thickly upholstered seats and backs. Low enough that my feet touched the floor, with backs high enough to lean your head against. And every chair had a brightly colored or patterned throw pillow. With a warm afghan or shawl, I could happily have slept through the movie.
.
[Note - If you're looking for the Cusack/Jackson ghost movie, that's "1408", not "1480".]
The best part of the movie we saw tonight will be reviewing it.
My friend apologized in the parking lot for dragging me out for it, but I can't remember the last time I saw a movie in a theater, so I said "Oh, no, it's ok. Better a bad movie than no movie at all." She agreed. At least we have the experience to complain about over dinner for a few weeks.
The movie was "Silk". The novel may or may not have been good, there's no way to tell short of finding and reading it. The screenplay was terrible. The acting was wooden. You know how you have a runthrough of a play at some point during production, to map out placements, props, lighting, timing, when everyone just walks around and reads the lines? That's what this was like. Just reading the lines. Flatly. There was not only no passion, there was no emotion. Nothing. There was a brief moment (the hung boy) when the lead actor almost used his facial muscles, but the director didn't take advantage of it.
The trek across Asia to Japan could have been interesting, but the director blew it. Distance shots of one terrain after another of plod, plod, plodding. And since the guy went back two more times, we got exactly the same plod, plod, plodding scenes two more times!
My friend complained about the music, but I didn't notice the music.
What finally killed it for me, what destroyed the last bit of charity I may have had for the screenwriter or director, was the "twist" at the end. It was simply impossible. The woman who wrote the letter could not POSSIBLY have known that the woman in Japan and the man had never touched. That she would write what she wrote (hell, that she would write a letter at all!) is simply inconceivable. Unless, of course, as I suspect, the director left out all of the human relations part of the story so he could fit in the plod, plod, plodding.
Unless, of course, I slept through that part without realizing it. I don't think I did, but given the pace of this movie, I could have, I suppose.
My friend started giggling at the "twist" at the end, and her suppressed giggles sounded like sobbing. It was weird, but I was slightly embarrassed that someone might think she was overcome by emotion. "Like, duh? What kind of idiot are you, lady?"
The theater, on the other hand, was very comfortable. Tiny, a few rows of individual comfy bentwood easy chairs, with soft thickly upholstered seats and backs. Low enough that my feet touched the floor, with backs high enough to lean your head against. And every chair had a brightly colored or patterned throw pillow. With a warm afghan or shawl, I could happily have slept through the movie.
.
1479 Equality
Saturday, September 22, 2007
I'm going to dinner and a movie tonight with a friend. She had received gift coupons to an art theater for her birthday, so we're going to use them. The restaurant is the same one my date and I went to on Thursday, and the theater is across the street from the tiki bar with the music trivia. The movie is "Silk". The reviews weren't wonderful.
My friend was disappointed that I didn't go to it Thursday with the guy ("It's Silk! Isn't that neat?"), but hey, just the name doesn't make it worthy. Besides, I don't especially care for movies on dates. Given the choice between sitting next to a guy looking at the screen, or sitting across from him looking at his face and talking, well, I prefer interaction.
Jasper discovered my bed yesterday afternoon. I was sitting on the bed hemming a dress, and he jumped up. He loved the deep eider comforter, too, but I warned him that if Miss Thunderfoot caught him up there, she'd kill him.
More evidence that he's younger than everyone thinks - he discovered his tail. The comforter kind of pushed his tail up and around as he was snuggling into it, and he acted like he'd never seen it before. Diving, leaping, spinning, in a sea of marshmallow, trying to catch it, looking all around when it disappeared.
The last pool party of the season is tomorrow. At least three people have reminded me to bring a bathing suit. Why? All anyone is going to do is stand around looking at the water. The air may be warm (we seem to be having a brief heat wave, an Indian Summer) but the sun is too low to warm a body.
Which reminds me - autumnal equinox tomorrow. Stand those eggs! I've got one standing on the counter right now.
.
I'm going to dinner and a movie tonight with a friend. She had received gift coupons to an art theater for her birthday, so we're going to use them. The restaurant is the same one my date and I went to on Thursday, and the theater is across the street from the tiki bar with the music trivia. The movie is "Silk". The reviews weren't wonderful.
My friend was disappointed that I didn't go to it Thursday with the guy ("It's Silk! Isn't that neat?"), but hey, just the name doesn't make it worthy. Besides, I don't especially care for movies on dates. Given the choice between sitting next to a guy looking at the screen, or sitting across from him looking at his face and talking, well, I prefer interaction.
Jasper discovered my bed yesterday afternoon. I was sitting on the bed hemming a dress, and he jumped up. He loved the deep eider comforter, too, but I warned him that if Miss Thunderfoot caught him up there, she'd kill him.
More evidence that he's younger than everyone thinks - he discovered his tail. The comforter kind of pushed his tail up and around as he was snuggling into it, and he acted like he'd never seen it before. Diving, leaping, spinning, in a sea of marshmallow, trying to catch it, looking all around when it disappeared.
The last pool party of the season is tomorrow. At least three people have reminded me to bring a bathing suit. Why? All anyone is going to do is stand around looking at the water. The air may be warm (we seem to be having a brief heat wave, an Indian Summer) but the sun is too low to warm a body.
Which reminds me - autumnal equinox tomorrow. Stand those eggs! I've got one standing on the counter right now.
.
Friday, September 21, 2007
1478 Falling
Friday, September 21, 2007
I hadn't updated in a few days, not because I was busy, but exactly the opposite. Nothing happened. I had no thoughts.
Last night was better.
I met a friend downriver for a leisurely dinner on a patio on the riverfront, after which we moved to a "tiki bar" next door, where it sounded like there was a band. There was a band - two guys who managed to sound like five!
Then we discovered that they were running a music trivia thingy between sets, with t-shirts and caps as prizes.
Now, my friend knows a lot about a lot of stuff, like all the fun NPR shows, Monty Python, sports, on and on. He has not only high intelligence, but what amounts to a photographic memory. I swear he remembers everything he has ever seen or heard, and he is incredibly aware of everything going on around him. His mind runs in overdrive. And the thing he knows the most about is music.
After he had quickly won two t-shirts and a cap (a very nice black-on-black that looks really good on him, and which I am holding hostage), he was barred from answering, and then they had to bar him from whispering to the guy next to him.
After that he was so ... cute. Hate to use that word, but it's the only one that fits. When he knew the answer and everyone else was stumped, he was hopping up and down in excitement, and a time or two had to pace to the far end of the bar, presumably to avoid blurting. It was so nice to see him so engaged. It was like he dropped 40 years. I could see what he was probably like as a boy.
I'm still fighting it, but I may be falling in love anyway.
.
I hadn't updated in a few days, not because I was busy, but exactly the opposite. Nothing happened. I had no thoughts.
Last night was better.
I met a friend downriver for a leisurely dinner on a patio on the riverfront, after which we moved to a "tiki bar" next door, where it sounded like there was a band. There was a band - two guys who managed to sound like five!
Then we discovered that they were running a music trivia thingy between sets, with t-shirts and caps as prizes.
Now, my friend knows a lot about a lot of stuff, like all the fun NPR shows, Monty Python, sports, on and on. He has not only high intelligence, but what amounts to a photographic memory. I swear he remembers everything he has ever seen or heard, and he is incredibly aware of everything going on around him. His mind runs in overdrive. And the thing he knows the most about is music.
After he had quickly won two t-shirts and a cap (a very nice black-on-black that looks really good on him, and which I am holding hostage), he was barred from answering, and then they had to bar him from whispering to the guy next to him.
After that he was so ... cute. Hate to use that word, but it's the only one that fits. When he knew the answer and everyone else was stumped, he was hopping up and down in excitement, and a time or two had to pace to the far end of the bar, presumably to avoid blurting. It was so nice to see him so engaged. It was like he dropped 40 years. I could see what he was probably like as a boy.
I'm still fighting it, but I may be falling in love anyway.
.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
1477 I'm Very Bad at Titles
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Blogger has been very shy today. Hardly anything would load for me. It wasn't my connection, other stuff was accessed just fine, but Blogger timed out no matter what I was trying to look at. I'm hoping I'll be able to complete this entry.
---------------------------------
Kitty update:
I am absolutely convinced that the women at the hotel where I rescued Jasper are mistaken that he'd been around since before the flooding. They must have him confused with, perhaps, his mother. When I caught him and thought he was at least six months old, I thought he was going to be a small cat, because holding him he reached from my breast to my shoulder and he weighed less than five pounds. Three weeks later he'd doubled in size, and weighed seven pounds. Three more weeks and now he reaches from my waist to my shoulders, and weighs ten pounds! He's still very muscular.
He's quite the lover. He has developed a new habit - he grooms me. He'll drape himself over my lap, and then lick whatever skin he can find (raspy tongue hurts!) over and over on the same palm-sized spot of my arm or thigh. If he can't get to skin, he'll groom my clothing. We're going to have to discourage that.
---------------------------
I live in a rural area. There are spots around here where there is no cell service. However, I found out today that within an 8-mile radius of my house, there are at least 91 signal-emitting antennas, 52 of which are on 22 high towers, and 39 of which are individual "roof-top" installations. The closest tower is .7 miles away. My house is high, so the electronic garbage is probably all zapping through me right now.
See http://www.antennasearch.com/ for your address.
.
Blogger has been very shy today. Hardly anything would load for me. It wasn't my connection, other stuff was accessed just fine, but Blogger timed out no matter what I was trying to look at. I'm hoping I'll be able to complete this entry.
---------------------------------
Kitty update:
I am absolutely convinced that the women at the hotel where I rescued Jasper are mistaken that he'd been around since before the flooding. They must have him confused with, perhaps, his mother. When I caught him and thought he was at least six months old, I thought he was going to be a small cat, because holding him he reached from my breast to my shoulder and he weighed less than five pounds. Three weeks later he'd doubled in size, and weighed seven pounds. Three more weeks and now he reaches from my waist to my shoulders, and weighs ten pounds! He's still very muscular.
He's quite the lover. He has developed a new habit - he grooms me. He'll drape himself over my lap, and then lick whatever skin he can find (raspy tongue hurts!) over and over on the same palm-sized spot of my arm or thigh. If he can't get to skin, he'll groom my clothing. We're going to have to discourage that.
---------------------------
I live in a rural area. There are spots around here where there is no cell service. However, I found out today that within an 8-mile radius of my house, there are at least 91 signal-emitting antennas, 52 of which are on 22 high towers, and 39 of which are individual "roof-top" installations. The closest tower is .7 miles away. My house is high, so the electronic garbage is probably all zapping through me right now.
See http://www.antennasearch.com/ for your address.
.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
1476 Fatty Acids and Autism
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
"A team of New Jersey scientists believes it has found ways to detect biological risk factors for autism through simple urine and blood tests, a discovery that could lead to groundbreaking medical treatment for the neurological disorder.
The team of 16 scientists, mostly drawn from the campuses of the University of Medicine and Dentistry of New Jersey, say their findings, the result of more than two years of study on how the body breaks down fatty acids, could be a breakthrough for what is the fastest-growing developmental disorder in the nation, with no known cause or cure.
The UMDNJ researchers say they have found that children with autism are unable to metabolise key fatty acids which help the body fight inflammation that causes damage to the brain and other organs."
The story, including possible treatments, is at http://www.autismconnect.org/news.asp?section=00010001&itemtype=news&id=6075.
The discovery is of course most interesting to people who have or know people who have autistic children, or autism in their families. Daughter, living in NJ and working with nursery school aged children, is very aware of the rise of rates of autism, especially in NJ. She thinks NJ is toxic (duh?), and is worried about having a child there. I'm slightly worried for future grandchildren.
But my immediate thoughts reading this were about Jay, the part about "children with autism are unable to metabolize key fatty acids which help the body fight inflammation that causes damage to the brain and other organs".
A lab report noted that the tumor seemed to originate in an area of the brain that had suffered an old trauma. Jay had difficulty handling the inflammation resulting from the treatments. The intracanial inflammation and swelling, and the steroids necessary to control it, caused more damage than the radiation or surgeries or even the pressure of the tumor itself.
Late in the battle he was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome, which some consider related to autism.
Is it possible that, as in autism, Jay was "unable to metabolize key fatty acids which help the body fight inflammation that causes damage to the brain and other organs"?
Did the tumor happen because of the old injury, and an inability to properly handle it? Could one of those "cocktails" of fatty acids have helped him to avoid the collateral damage of inflammation?
Asperger has been called "the nerd disease". Do brain tumors occur at a higher rate among nerds? Has anyone ever asked? The Albany doctors told me that there is a "brain cancer hot spot" near here, across the river and a bit north of Poughkeepsie, and they could find no unusual environmental factors there. Uh, it's a rural area with a proportionately high population of ex-Evil-Empire employees...
... otherwise known as nerds.
I wonder if any doctor would be interested in this observation?
.
"A team of New Jersey scientists believes it has found ways to detect biological risk factors for autism through simple urine and blood tests, a discovery that could lead to groundbreaking medical treatment for the neurological disorder.
The team of 16 scientists, mostly drawn from the campuses of the University of Medicine and Dentistry of New Jersey, say their findings, the result of more than two years of study on how the body breaks down fatty acids, could be a breakthrough for what is the fastest-growing developmental disorder in the nation, with no known cause or cure.
The UMDNJ researchers say they have found that children with autism are unable to metabolise key fatty acids which help the body fight inflammation that causes damage to the brain and other organs."
The story, including possible treatments, is at http://www.autismconnect.org/news.asp?section=00010001&itemtype=news&id=6075.
The discovery is of course most interesting to people who have or know people who have autistic children, or autism in their families. Daughter, living in NJ and working with nursery school aged children, is very aware of the rise of rates of autism, especially in NJ. She thinks NJ is toxic (duh?), and is worried about having a child there. I'm slightly worried for future grandchildren.
But my immediate thoughts reading this were about Jay, the part about "children with autism are unable to metabolize key fatty acids which help the body fight inflammation that causes damage to the brain and other organs".
A lab report noted that the tumor seemed to originate in an area of the brain that had suffered an old trauma. Jay had difficulty handling the inflammation resulting from the treatments. The intracanial inflammation and swelling, and the steroids necessary to control it, caused more damage than the radiation or surgeries or even the pressure of the tumor itself.
Late in the battle he was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome, which some consider related to autism.
Is it possible that, as in autism, Jay was "unable to metabolize key fatty acids which help the body fight inflammation that causes damage to the brain and other organs"?
Did the tumor happen because of the old injury, and an inability to properly handle it? Could one of those "cocktails" of fatty acids have helped him to avoid the collateral damage of inflammation?
Asperger has been called "the nerd disease". Do brain tumors occur at a higher rate among nerds? Has anyone ever asked? The Albany doctors told me that there is a "brain cancer hot spot" near here, across the river and a bit north of Poughkeepsie, and they could find no unusual environmental factors there. Uh, it's a rural area with a proportionately high population of ex-Evil-Empire employees...
... otherwise known as nerds.
I wonder if any doctor would be interested in this observation?
.
Monday, September 17, 2007
1475 Shofar Virtuoso
Ok. Is this only one shofar? Nothing is said of a bugle backup, but there are a few spots where I have to wonder, like when his lips seem to be off it but there's still sound. I don't know. But if this is all one guy with one ram's horn, this is pretty impressive. Any opinions?
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=686SoqV70y0)
Later:
I asked a Jewish friend to check this out, and he says that it doesn't sound right, that the reverb is wrong, that he also noticed the sound when lips were not on, and it sounds like there are at least two, not one.
I checked out the guy playing it, and he's not Jewish, he's Christian, he just plays the shofar. The hosts are from some group that fosters Jewish-Christian dialog. That was interesting, because when I first saw the set, I thought "evangelical Christian" before I noticed the Hebrew scattered around. Which then reminded me of an article I'd recently read about how some Jewish folks are suspicious of fundamentalist Christian groups who want to get friendly - because no matter how much they innocently deny it, their purpose is proselytizing and conversion.
Oh, and that's not a ram's horn. A ram's horn is short, usually has only one-half curve. The longer shofars that we usually see these days (better sound) is actually an African antelope horn.
.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=686SoqV70y0)
Later:
I asked a Jewish friend to check this out, and he says that it doesn't sound right, that the reverb is wrong, that he also noticed the sound when lips were not on, and it sounds like there are at least two, not one.
I checked out the guy playing it, and he's not Jewish, he's Christian, he just plays the shofar. The hosts are from some group that fosters Jewish-Christian dialog. That was interesting, because when I first saw the set, I thought "evangelical Christian" before I noticed the Hebrew scattered around. Which then reminded me of an article I'd recently read about how some Jewish folks are suspicious of fundamentalist Christian groups who want to get friendly - because no matter how much they innocently deny it, their purpose is proselytizing and conversion.
Oh, and that's not a ram's horn. A ram's horn is short, usually has only one-half curve. The longer shofars that we usually see these days (better sound) is actually an African antelope horn.
.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
1474 Buncha Bits
Sunday, September 16, 2007
We had the second bylaws revision meeting today. Went very well. Ziggy and I don't get along on some things, but we do seem to work well together. Makes sense, I guess. We've both been well trained by The Company. I had hoped this would be the last in-person meeting of the committee, but we have the election schedule to work out yet, so I guess there will be one more.
------------------------------
I happened to walk into the kitchen today, and caught an interview with Jeff Gordon, the race car driver, on the kitchen TV. (I'm pretty sure that's the name. Young, good looking, right?)
It stopped me cold. For half a second I thought it was Ex#1. Jeff is much better looking, smaller nose and rectangular face, but the two of them have exactly the same mouth and eyes, and exactly the same way of moving them. It's uncanny. I left me wondering what Mr. Gordon's mind is like, wondering how vicious he could be when angry.
------------------------------
A Jewish friend was talking about how one does not write the name of God, and that's why in the blogs of religiously observant Jewish folks, you'll see "G-d". Because you can't write the name.
Um, since everyone knows what you mean by G-d, hasn't that become the name? Simply an alternate spelling of it? What is the purpose of the prohibition? Does substituting "-" for "o" satisfy the purpose of the prohibition? Like maybe when God does a universal Google search for his name, He won't find your (vain?) post?
I find use of "G-d" very annoying. Either write it or don't, but don't pretend the "-" makes a difference. There are many names for God, "G-d" is one of them by definition since we all know who you mean, and, well, you just wrote it, you bad person, you.
-------------------------------
It's hard when nobody wants their pictures in your blog. I had to cut folks out of this one:
Me, feeding ducks. Gully's, Newburg, Mensa Mirthday celebration, August 17, 2007.
.
We had the second bylaws revision meeting today. Went very well. Ziggy and I don't get along on some things, but we do seem to work well together. Makes sense, I guess. We've both been well trained by The Company. I had hoped this would be the last in-person meeting of the committee, but we have the election schedule to work out yet, so I guess there will be one more.
------------------------------
I happened to walk into the kitchen today, and caught an interview with Jeff Gordon, the race car driver, on the kitchen TV. (I'm pretty sure that's the name. Young, good looking, right?)
It stopped me cold. For half a second I thought it was Ex#1. Jeff is much better looking, smaller nose and rectangular face, but the two of them have exactly the same mouth and eyes, and exactly the same way of moving them. It's uncanny. I left me wondering what Mr. Gordon's mind is like, wondering how vicious he could be when angry.
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A Jewish friend was talking about how one does not write the name of God, and that's why in the blogs of religiously observant Jewish folks, you'll see "G-d". Because you can't write the name.
Um, since everyone knows what you mean by G-d, hasn't that become the name? Simply an alternate spelling of it? What is the purpose of the prohibition? Does substituting "-" for "o" satisfy the purpose of the prohibition? Like maybe when God does a universal Google search for his name, He won't find your (vain?) post?
I find use of "G-d" very annoying. Either write it or don't, but don't pretend the "-" makes a difference. There are many names for God, "G-d" is one of them by definition since we all know who you mean, and, well, you just wrote it, you bad person, you.
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It's hard when nobody wants their pictures in your blog. I had to cut folks out of this one:
Me, feeding ducks. Gully's, Newburg, Mensa Mirthday celebration, August 17, 2007.
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