Friday, February 15, 2008
I've been a bit blah lately, and I've finally figured out why. I'm not supposed to talk about him here, but I will anyway, 'cause he's why, and it's my story, and I can tell it.
I'm "waiting for the other shoe to drop" because we're coming up on a year, and I will have to decide what I want to do, and I don't know. I absolutely adore him. He fascinates me. His mind amazes me. His enthusiasm is infectious. His body is just plain beautiful. He's very protective. I feel so very small and feminine when I'm with him. That's unusual for me. I am very strong and willful, and will kick and spit and prod and push. I don't with him. I look up to him.
Yeah, there are lots of times when he has said stuff or done stuff that just didn't fit (I think sometimes he forgets how smart I am), and he likes secrets, and if it were any other man I'd challenge him right off, but with this man I just nod and let it go. I accept, or withhold judgment. Very unusual for me. I don't know if it's because I've mellowed, or if I'm simply too infatuated to chance angering him. Or maybe it's because I know he really is honest and faithful and all that, and the inconsistencies and half-truths I've seen are a self-defense mechanism - things have happened in his past that he's begun telling me about that explain a lot, that make it difficult for him to be completely open - and as he trusts me more the subterfuge is abating, whatever, anyway, I trust him. He is opening to me, and if I can be patient, he will be more comfortable exposing more of himself to me. He's a little like an abused animal.
Anyway, the thing is, I'm getting older. I can't afford to waste time on something that may not be more than extended dating, a "this is good now" kind of thing, no matter how wonderful and exciting it is. I have to plan for the future. I want a life companion, someone who will still be there when I start falling apart. We've moved slowly, and that's good. It was seven months before we used the L-word, and I believe him completely when he tells me now how much I mean to him...
...and some of his emails could bring back the old word "swoon"...so very romantic...
...but...
There's the age difference. We're at different stages in our lives. I'm ready for travel and recreation. He's wrapped up in work and career. (But it's cute that I'm not a grandmother yet, and he's a grandfather twice over.) I have lots of free time, and he has next to none, what with the job, the responsibilities of a large extended family, and some activities that he seems to obsess over. I'm not seeing enough of him. I'm alone a lot, still. I don't understand why he can't share some of those activities with me. The distance (2+ hour drive) doesn't help. The last few times we've been together my frustration leaked out.
So, that's what's bugging me. I may need more than he can give me right now. I don't know where this is going, and I need to figure out whether it's in my best interests to stay on the ride or get off.
It's not a decision I want to make. I could give it more time and see what happens, but I don't know how much more time. How much do I need? How much can I afford? I would like this to be forever, but ... I don't know.
Maybe it's significant that I don't feel like this is something I can bring up with him. Not yet, anyway. (Like many Aspies and geeks in general, he doesn't seem to see time passing. He'd see it as pushing. As not caring enough to hang in there and let it develop. Sigh.)
I need a man's advice, and my only close male friends would prefer to see him dead.
.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
1691 Socks
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
I spent most of last evening and much of this morning doing laundry. It's a chore because the super-hard well water has glumked up the valves, and I can't let the washer fill itself because the valves won't shut off completely and water will fill the washer, the laundry room, and half the kitchen before the cats let me know there's something wrong. So I have to fill by hand with a hose from the utility sink.
I put laundry off as long as possible, so when I do it, it's a lot. In the past 24 hours, I've washed
- 3 loads of white
- 2 loads of dark
- 1 load of red
- 1 load of pastel
- 1 load of fragile
- 1 load of colored
- 2 loads of sheets
- 2 loads of towels
That adds up to 13. Maybe that's what jinxed the socks.
There are two net bags hanging on the laundry bin. When I take socks off, I put them directly into a bag. They don't lie around. They're either on my feet or in the bag, as a pair. When it's laundry time, I tie the bags closed. The bags go into the washer and the dryer tied. They do not come untied. When they're dry, I dump the bags out on the bed and sort the socks into pairs, carefully guarding them from Jasper.
So howcum I ALWAYS have at least three stray socks? Two I could almost understand - maybe the last time I sorted and paired them I mixed up two sets and there's another mismatched pair in the drawer. But three?
Whenever I see one of those escape artists get out of a locked bag underwater, I think of socks.
I don't understand.
.
I spent most of last evening and much of this morning doing laundry. It's a chore because the super-hard well water has glumked up the valves, and I can't let the washer fill itself because the valves won't shut off completely and water will fill the washer, the laundry room, and half the kitchen before the cats let me know there's something wrong. So I have to fill by hand with a hose from the utility sink.
I put laundry off as long as possible, so when I do it, it's a lot. In the past 24 hours, I've washed
- 3 loads of white
- 2 loads of dark
- 1 load of red
- 1 load of pastel
- 1 load of fragile
- 1 load of colored
- 2 loads of sheets
- 2 loads of towels
That adds up to 13. Maybe that's what jinxed the socks.
There are two net bags hanging on the laundry bin. When I take socks off, I put them directly into a bag. They don't lie around. They're either on my feet or in the bag, as a pair. When it's laundry time, I tie the bags closed. The bags go into the washer and the dryer tied. They do not come untied. When they're dry, I dump the bags out on the bed and sort the socks into pairs, carefully guarding them from Jasper.
So howcum I ALWAYS have at least three stray socks? Two I could almost understand - maybe the last time I sorted and paired them I mixed up two sets and there's another mismatched pair in the drawer. But three?
Whenever I see one of those escape artists get out of a locked bag underwater, I think of socks.
I don't understand.
.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
1690 The Snake
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
A beautiful snake:
[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6KdC1zDKUn0]
It's interesting now, but when she hits 50, she's gonna have pain when her knees, hips, and spine revolt, just like belly dancers who used to do a lot of floorwork in their youth. Tiny injuries and overstretching builds up.
.
A beautiful snake:
[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6KdC1zDKUn0]
It's interesting now, but when she hits 50, she's gonna have pain when her knees, hips, and spine revolt, just like belly dancers who used to do a lot of floorwork in their youth. Tiny injuries and overstretching builds up.
.
Monday, February 11, 2008
1689 Online auction addiction
Monday, February 11, 2008
I can tell I'm a bit depressed lately by the contents of the mailbox. I've been shopping online. I do that when I feel like I need pampering. Shopping online is more satisfying than shopping in stores, because when packages arrive in the mail, or when the big brown or yellow trucks come up the driveway, it feels like someone sent me a gift. Somehow it gets disconnected from the money spent.
Some of the shopping has been on eBay. I hadn't visited eBay since the fall of 2005 (except once to buy something from a friend), but since last July I've been indulging far too much, in spurts.
There's a method to get the best deals on eBay. I don't understand people who bid early in an eBay auction. It's not at all like a live auction, when you want to register interest with the auctioneer so that you don't get left out when the bidding gets hot. Registering early interest on eBay is NOT a good thing, and it's completely unnecessary, if you understand automatic bidding. If you want to make sure the seller doesn't end the auction early, just ask a question. That tells the seller you're interested without alerting other bidders.
I'll see a nice sari, with three days to go on the auction, and six or seven bids in on it already, invariably from people with less than 80 in feedback count. They obviously don't understand eBay's automatic bidding and they're just bidding each other up. I don't bid until the last few seconds of the auction, and I almost always win at the lowest possible winning amount. If I had placed the same bid earlier, someone would have "nibbled" my bid all the way up.
(Bidding in the last few seconds is called "sniping", and it's despised by people who don't understand automatic bids. The explanation of automatic bidding is complicated, but once understood, the concept is simple.)
So I do a little research on the other bidders who have revealed their interest. I look at what they've bought ("won") lately, and how much they paid, how much they're willing to go for an item of this type. I look at what their interests seem to be. I look to see if they have a habit of "nibbling" up automatic bids. I look to see if they ever snipe.
And frankly, I look just because I'm snoopy and I want to know what they bought. Sometimes I find some good stuff, good sellers, that way.
One woman I researched today had a very strange buying history. She was buying all kinds of pure junk. Then I realized it was all very cheap junk, and she was getting it at the starting price (often very low) as the only bidder. It looks like she opens with the lowest bid on a LOT of junk (we're talking like $.50 and $1.25 shipping), and then either gets outbid, or wins for a pittance. She has bought and got feedback on about 50 items in the past two weeks. I suddenly realized that she isn't buying stuff - she's spending a little money to build a good feedback rating. I'll bet that if I look back in a month, I'll find her listing all that junk for sale, along with some of her own stuff that she wants to sell.
She's smart. A lot of people won't buy, especially expensive items, from someone who has less than 50 feedbacks, or less than 99% positive. Most people won't notice that her perfect feedback is all from buying piddly things.
She's the one I'd worry about. The sari she has bid on is already higher than she has paid for anything else. It's obvious she's smart, and she's specifically interested in this particular sari. This means I should bid very close to the end of the auction, leaving only seconds. Super snipe.
And that's the lure of eBay. Not only do I get "gifts" in the mail, but I get the thrill of the hunt, chase, and kill.
Of course, the question is, why do I need that boost now?
-------------------------------------
A sari? Yeah, I wear them occasionally. And where else can you get six yards of bordered silk for $25?
The best sari seller out there is Bee Patel [http://stores.ebay.com/Bee-Patels-Sari-Palace]. Her saris are always in perfect condition, described accurately, well photographed, and priced right. My only complaint is that she doesn't sell the sari together with the matching blouse (choli). They're separate auctions, and it's possible to win one and not the other, which is maddening.
--------------------------------------
Later: I was just wandering around eBay, and I found a seller, Everydaysource, who has a feedback count of 710202. That's over 700,000 individual eBay ids he has sold stuff to. Not 700,000 sales, the sales number is at least 1,035,309 (feedback from any id is counted only once). That's mind boggling!
.
I can tell I'm a bit depressed lately by the contents of the mailbox. I've been shopping online. I do that when I feel like I need pampering. Shopping online is more satisfying than shopping in stores, because when packages arrive in the mail, or when the big brown or yellow trucks come up the driveway, it feels like someone sent me a gift. Somehow it gets disconnected from the money spent.
Some of the shopping has been on eBay. I hadn't visited eBay since the fall of 2005 (except once to buy something from a friend), but since last July I've been indulging far too much, in spurts.
There's a method to get the best deals on eBay. I don't understand people who bid early in an eBay auction. It's not at all like a live auction, when you want to register interest with the auctioneer so that you don't get left out when the bidding gets hot. Registering early interest on eBay is NOT a good thing, and it's completely unnecessary, if you understand automatic bidding. If you want to make sure the seller doesn't end the auction early, just ask a question. That tells the seller you're interested without alerting other bidders.
I'll see a nice sari, with three days to go on the auction, and six or seven bids in on it already, invariably from people with less than 80 in feedback count. They obviously don't understand eBay's automatic bidding and they're just bidding each other up. I don't bid until the last few seconds of the auction, and I almost always win at the lowest possible winning amount. If I had placed the same bid earlier, someone would have "nibbled" my bid all the way up.
(Bidding in the last few seconds is called "sniping", and it's despised by people who don't understand automatic bids. The explanation of automatic bidding is complicated, but once understood, the concept is simple.)
So I do a little research on the other bidders who have revealed their interest. I look at what they've bought ("won") lately, and how much they paid, how much they're willing to go for an item of this type. I look at what their interests seem to be. I look to see if they have a habit of "nibbling" up automatic bids. I look to see if they ever snipe.
And frankly, I look just because I'm snoopy and I want to know what they bought. Sometimes I find some good stuff, good sellers, that way.
One woman I researched today had a very strange buying history. She was buying all kinds of pure junk. Then I realized it was all very cheap junk, and she was getting it at the starting price (often very low) as the only bidder. It looks like she opens with the lowest bid on a LOT of junk (we're talking like $.50 and $1.25 shipping), and then either gets outbid, or wins for a pittance. She has bought and got feedback on about 50 items in the past two weeks. I suddenly realized that she isn't buying stuff - she's spending a little money to build a good feedback rating. I'll bet that if I look back in a month, I'll find her listing all that junk for sale, along with some of her own stuff that she wants to sell.
She's smart. A lot of people won't buy, especially expensive items, from someone who has less than 50 feedbacks, or less than 99% positive. Most people won't notice that her perfect feedback is all from buying piddly things.
She's the one I'd worry about. The sari she has bid on is already higher than she has paid for anything else. It's obvious she's smart, and she's specifically interested in this particular sari. This means I should bid very close to the end of the auction, leaving only seconds. Super snipe.
And that's the lure of eBay. Not only do I get "gifts" in the mail, but I get the thrill of the hunt, chase, and kill.
Of course, the question is, why do I need that boost now?
-------------------------------------
A sari? Yeah, I wear them occasionally. And where else can you get six yards of bordered silk for $25?
The best sari seller out there is Bee Patel [http://stores.ebay.com/Bee-Patels-Sari-Palace]. Her saris are always in perfect condition, described accurately, well photographed, and priced right. My only complaint is that she doesn't sell the sari together with the matching blouse (choli). They're separate auctions, and it's possible to win one and not the other, which is maddening.
--------------------------------------
Later: I was just wandering around eBay, and I found a seller, Everydaysource, who has a feedback count of 710202. That's over 700,000 individual eBay ids he has sold stuff to. Not 700,000 sales, the sales number is at least 1,035,309 (feedback from any id is counted only once). That's mind boggling!
.
1679 Not Hot, the movie
Monday, February 11, 2008
Reviews of the Paris Hilton film, "The Hottie and the Nottie", from http://www.metacritic.com/film/titles/hottieandthenottie?q=nottie:
Entertainment Weekly, Owen Gleiberman
The Farrelly brothers could burp out a movie funnier than The Hottie & the Nottie, a farce of corrupt stereotypes that's never more grotesque than when it pretends to be more than skin-deep.
Washington Post, Desson Thomson
Like Nate, we are mere Notties. And we are supposed to feel oh-so privileged for getting to watch Paris through the glass.
The Hollywood Reporter, Frank Scheck
Ultimately best suited for the confines of late-night cable.
New York Post, Kyle Smith
Great actors make the craft look easy. In the Paris Hilton comedy The Hottie and the Nottie, acting looks very, very difficult.
New York Daily News, Elizabeth Weitzman
You've got to admire Hilton's complete conviction in herself as the center of all that is beautiful and good. And maybe such unwavering self-regard is actually kind of hot. Or not.
Boston Globe, Ty Burr
You've seen dozens of movies like this on cable in the wee hours.
Inquirer, Carrie Rickey
Though Hilton may be a model, if her work in Hottie is any indication, she is no actress.
Rolling Stone, Peter Travers
That generous half star rating I tacked onto this comedy abomination is all for Paris Hilton. Come on, it takes guts (or gross dim-wittedness) to appear on screen again after "House of Wax."
Chicago Tribune, Jessica Reaves
Verdict: not so hot
ReelViews, James Berardinelli
A cinematic excursion so horrific that it's an insult to bad movies to call it a bad movie.
Variety, Dennis Harvey
Paris Hilton has already ushered a remarkable three features into the Internet Movie Database's "Bottom 100." The Hottie and the Nottie will make it an even four.
The Onion (A.V. Club), Keith Phipps
How is Paris Hilton in her first starring role to receive a national release? Pretty bad, actually. She's limited to a single, all-too-familiar expression of smug self-satisfaction, and she delivers her lines in a tone somewhere between "seductive" and "dish-soap commercial."
TV Guide, Maitland McDonagh
Preposterous, disingenuous, remarkably unfunny and genuinely distasteful.
Village Voice, Nathan Lee
Crass, shrill, disingenuous, tawdry, mean-spirited, vulgar, idiotic, boring, slapdash, half-assed, and very, very unfunny.
Miami Herald, Connie Ogle
The most astounding thing about this abysmal comedy -- aside from the fact the studio actually allowed critics within a mile of it -- is that it's so ghastly it is beneath even the meager dignity of Paris Hilton.
Los Angeles Times, Sam Adams
It's not like Paris Hilton to rise above her material, but The Hottie and the Nottie sinks so low that all she has to do is stand upright.
The New York Times, Jeannette Catsoulis
Custom designed for its smirking star (who is also an executive producer), this tasteless train wreck asks only that she preen and prance on cue.
Gee, these reviews actually make me want to see it. No, I'm serious. Very bad movies can be fun, especially when you can yell at them.
.
Reviews of the Paris Hilton film, "The Hottie and the Nottie", from http://www.metacritic.com/film/titles/hottieandthenottie?q=nottie:
Entertainment Weekly, Owen Gleiberman
The Farrelly brothers could burp out a movie funnier than The Hottie & the Nottie, a farce of corrupt stereotypes that's never more grotesque than when it pretends to be more than skin-deep.
Washington Post, Desson Thomson
Like Nate, we are mere Notties. And we are supposed to feel oh-so privileged for getting to watch Paris through the glass.
The Hollywood Reporter, Frank Scheck
Ultimately best suited for the confines of late-night cable.
New York Post, Kyle Smith
Great actors make the craft look easy. In the Paris Hilton comedy The Hottie and the Nottie, acting looks very, very difficult.
New York Daily News, Elizabeth Weitzman
You've got to admire Hilton's complete conviction in herself as the center of all that is beautiful and good. And maybe such unwavering self-regard is actually kind of hot. Or not.
Boston Globe, Ty Burr
You've seen dozens of movies like this on cable in the wee hours.
Inquirer, Carrie Rickey
Though Hilton may be a model, if her work in Hottie is any indication, she is no actress.
Rolling Stone, Peter Travers
That generous half star rating I tacked onto this comedy abomination is all for Paris Hilton. Come on, it takes guts (or gross dim-wittedness) to appear on screen again after "House of Wax."
Chicago Tribune, Jessica Reaves
Verdict: not so hot
ReelViews, James Berardinelli
A cinematic excursion so horrific that it's an insult to bad movies to call it a bad movie.
Variety, Dennis Harvey
Paris Hilton has already ushered a remarkable three features into the Internet Movie Database's "Bottom 100." The Hottie and the Nottie will make it an even four.
The Onion (A.V. Club), Keith Phipps
How is Paris Hilton in her first starring role to receive a national release? Pretty bad, actually. She's limited to a single, all-too-familiar expression of smug self-satisfaction, and she delivers her lines in a tone somewhere between "seductive" and "dish-soap commercial."
TV Guide, Maitland McDonagh
Preposterous, disingenuous, remarkably unfunny and genuinely distasteful.
Village Voice, Nathan Lee
Crass, shrill, disingenuous, tawdry, mean-spirited, vulgar, idiotic, boring, slapdash, half-assed, and very, very unfunny.
Miami Herald, Connie Ogle
The most astounding thing about this abysmal comedy -- aside from the fact the studio actually allowed critics within a mile of it -- is that it's so ghastly it is beneath even the meager dignity of Paris Hilton.
Los Angeles Times, Sam Adams
It's not like Paris Hilton to rise above her material, but The Hottie and the Nottie sinks so low that all she has to do is stand upright.
The New York Times, Jeannette Catsoulis
Custom designed for its smirking star (who is also an executive producer), this tasteless train wreck asks only that she preen and prance on cue.
Gee, these reviews actually make me want to see it. No, I'm serious. Very bad movies can be fun, especially when you can yell at them.
.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
1678 Debt Enlargement
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Wow! Amazing news! Hard to believe! You know "Smiling Bob", the idiot of the Enzyte commercials? The ones where all the women look like '50s housewives? Well, turns out the stuff doesn't work! No kidding! It's a scam!
The advertising and sales departments made up all the testimonials and studies. Wow! Who'd a thunk it!
And that's not the worst.
Folks figure if the company is giving out free trials, then it must work, since if it didn't, nobody would order more, and they'd go broke. Right?
Wrong.
If you called to get the free trial, they wanted checking account information, or a credit card number. Even though you never authorized it, they signed you up for automatic delivery, and before the free trial was even over, they had hit your account for another month or two's supply. They'd keep doing that, and it was next to impossible to cancel.
They guaranteed satisfaction, but if you said it didn't work and you wanted to return the pills and get your money back, they'd ask for a notarized statement from your doctor saying that it didn't work. In the meantime, they kept charging your account.
So, the company officers are in federal court. One of the ex-officers is testifying against them.
The Center for Science in the Public Interest (CSPI) filed a complaint with the FTC on September 23, 2004. That's more than three years ago. Jury selection started the middle of last month. Now they're in federal court, charged with stuff like committing wire and mail fraud, money laundering, and misbranding.
And - the commercials are still on, and that's ok, presumption of innocence and all, but what confuses me is that they're still offering the free trial. If they're not still making unauthorized debits to checking accounts and credit cards, how are they avoiding bankruptcy?
Unless ... it actually works ....
.
Wow! Amazing news! Hard to believe! You know "Smiling Bob", the idiot of the Enzyte commercials? The ones where all the women look like '50s housewives? Well, turns out the stuff doesn't work! No kidding! It's a scam!
The advertising and sales departments made up all the testimonials and studies. Wow! Who'd a thunk it!
And that's not the worst.
Folks figure if the company is giving out free trials, then it must work, since if it didn't, nobody would order more, and they'd go broke. Right?
Wrong.
If you called to get the free trial, they wanted checking account information, or a credit card number. Even though you never authorized it, they signed you up for automatic delivery, and before the free trial was even over, they had hit your account for another month or two's supply. They'd keep doing that, and it was next to impossible to cancel.
They guaranteed satisfaction, but if you said it didn't work and you wanted to return the pills and get your money back, they'd ask for a notarized statement from your doctor saying that it didn't work. In the meantime, they kept charging your account.
So, the company officers are in federal court. One of the ex-officers is testifying against them.
The Center for Science in the Public Interest (CSPI) filed a complaint with the FTC on September 23, 2004. That's more than three years ago. Jury selection started the middle of last month. Now they're in federal court, charged with stuff like committing wire and mail fraud, money laundering, and misbranding.
And - the commercials are still on, and that's ok, presumption of innocence and all, but what confuses me is that they're still offering the free trial. If they're not still making unauthorized debits to checking accounts and credit cards, how are they avoiding bankruptcy?
Unless ... it actually works ....
.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
1677 Sprouting, Part 2
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Becs has noted in a comment on the previous entry that my "sprouts" sound a lot like Morgellon's Disease. Naturally that sent me off on Google trails. I didn't link any site because you really have to read several to get a sense of what goes on in Morgellon's.
Briefly, there are a lot of symptoms, major among which are sores that don't heal, and knots of hair-like growths that sprout from the sores or build up under the skin, and a constant feeling of bugs walking around under the skin. Also, "black nodules, long and short fibers that can't be pulled out, and great pain, are all highly effective in destroying relationships between couples. Put another way, the suffering is so great that participating in sexual acts are the last thing that victims of the disease will think about doing."
Well, I have no sores, my sprouts look slightly shorter and fatter than what they show in Morgellan's (not "hair-like" at all, more sliver-like, slightly longer than a comma on this page), they pull right out with no difficulty, there's no pain whatsoever, no bug-under-the-skin feeling, and the only day I itched was the day after I was at the tech school. That day was very bad with the itching, but it was only that day - last Sunday.
And I'm still very interested in sex.
Who knows. Maybe this is a very early stage of Morgellan's. But I think not. I still think it's fiberglass or something like that. I pulled out about seven or eight more since this morning. No big deal. Just strange.
.
Becs has noted in a comment on the previous entry that my "sprouts" sound a lot like Morgellon's Disease. Naturally that sent me off on Google trails. I didn't link any site because you really have to read several to get a sense of what goes on in Morgellon's.
Briefly, there are a lot of symptoms, major among which are sores that don't heal, and knots of hair-like growths that sprout from the sores or build up under the skin, and a constant feeling of bugs walking around under the skin. Also, "black nodules, long and short fibers that can't be pulled out, and great pain, are all highly effective in destroying relationships between couples. Put another way, the suffering is so great that participating in sexual acts are the last thing that victims of the disease will think about doing."
Well, I have no sores, my sprouts look slightly shorter and fatter than what they show in Morgellan's (not "hair-like" at all, more sliver-like, slightly longer than a comma on this page), they pull right out with no difficulty, there's no pain whatsoever, no bug-under-the-skin feeling, and the only day I itched was the day after I was at the tech school. That day was very bad with the itching, but it was only that day - last Sunday.
And I'm still very interested in sex.
Who knows. Maybe this is a very early stage of Morgellan's. But I think not. I still think it's fiberglass or something like that. I pulled out about seven or eight more since this morning. No big deal. Just strange.
.
1676 Sprouting!
Saturday, February 9, 2008
A few days ago I mentioned itching after spending a day at a tech school.
Today, I'm sprouting.
My skin is extruding something weird.
Know how when you get a tiny scratch that pushes up a bit of skin, and the tiny skin tag hangs on until you feel it catching on silk or sweaters, and you pull it off? They're sort of like that. It's teeny tiny sticking-out bits of what looks like skin. They are all three parts, a larger central piece with two smaller pieces on either side, looks almost like a microscopic tuft of grass. They are stiff, like whisker hairs, and I find them when they brush against fabric or things.
There's no scratches. They seem to be coming out of pores. So far the ones I've seen have been mostly on the sides of my hands (fingers and the outside of the palms, probably because that's where I'm most likely to feel them, when the sides of my fingers touch each other), and around my waistband. I can pull them out with tweezers or my fingernails.
I've pulled about ten of them since I noticed them this morning.
I really think I picked up invisible fiberglass slivers at the school.
.
A few days ago I mentioned itching after spending a day at a tech school.
Today, I'm sprouting.
My skin is extruding something weird.
Know how when you get a tiny scratch that pushes up a bit of skin, and the tiny skin tag hangs on until you feel it catching on silk or sweaters, and you pull it off? They're sort of like that. It's teeny tiny sticking-out bits of what looks like skin. They are all three parts, a larger central piece with two smaller pieces on either side, looks almost like a microscopic tuft of grass. They are stiff, like whisker hairs, and I find them when they brush against fabric or things.
There's no scratches. They seem to be coming out of pores. So far the ones I've seen have been mostly on the sides of my hands (fingers and the outside of the palms, probably because that's where I'm most likely to feel them, when the sides of my fingers touch each other), and around my waistband. I can pull them out with tweezers or my fingernails.
I've pulled about ten of them since I noticed them this morning.
I really think I picked up invisible fiberglass slivers at the school.
.
Friday, February 08, 2008
1675 Frozen Friday
Friday, February 8, 2008
Outside, it's slightly above freezing. Inside, the thermostat says it's 75. I'm wearing closed shoes, socks, jeans, the usual underwear, and a long-sleeved heavy cotton t-shirt. And over it all, Jay's big heavy terry robe. Which is floor-length on me, and wraps around almost twice.
And still, I'm freezing.
My hands are cold. My feet and legs are cold. My nose is cold. I can't get warm. About the only thing that works is to crawl into bed.
This happens every so often, and I don't know why. Back when Jay was alive and I got this way, he'd have me hold my hands in hot water. It worked then, but it's not working now. Maybe because then he had his arms around me while I ran the hot water over my hands.
It's not like I don't have calories to burn. So far today I have eaten one container of yogurt, a huge honey ham cheddar cheese lettuce tomato sweet pepper bacon wrap, some potato chips with horseradish dip, several cups of sanka with vanilla sugar-free creamer, two cups of tea, some rice crackers, a handful of raw stir-fry veggies, and 180 calories-worth of Starbucks frappuccino. Plus there's that extra 15 pounds I'm carrying that my body is welcome to burn whenever it wants to.
But I'm freezing.
Back when I went through menopause, I had very little problem with hot flashes. I had them, but seldom, and mild.
I'd welcome one of them now.
I'm off to boost the thermostat. Maybe it's broken and lying, and it's actually 50 degrees in here? Nah. It's right. I'm wrong. My internal thermostat is broken.
----------------------------
Slightly later - Something I'd noticed: I don't feel cold in the house when the sun is up, no matter what the thermostat says. It's always after the sun goes down that I start feeling so deep bone cold. And it's worse on an evening when the day had been cloudy. Today was cloudy. I don't know whether I'm sensitive to the heat the house collects from the sun, and notice when it's not there, or whether I'm sensitive to the sun itself. But it's definitely lack-of-sun-related.
----------------------------
Even later - How do I know it's dark out, or cloudy? The lights are on in the house! When do I get cold? When the lights are on! That's it! The lights are sucking the energy out of me!
.
Outside, it's slightly above freezing. Inside, the thermostat says it's 75. I'm wearing closed shoes, socks, jeans, the usual underwear, and a long-sleeved heavy cotton t-shirt. And over it all, Jay's big heavy terry robe. Which is floor-length on me, and wraps around almost twice.
And still, I'm freezing.
My hands are cold. My feet and legs are cold. My nose is cold. I can't get warm. About the only thing that works is to crawl into bed.
This happens every so often, and I don't know why. Back when Jay was alive and I got this way, he'd have me hold my hands in hot water. It worked then, but it's not working now. Maybe because then he had his arms around me while I ran the hot water over my hands.
It's not like I don't have calories to burn. So far today I have eaten one container of yogurt, a huge honey ham cheddar cheese lettuce tomato sweet pepper bacon wrap, some potato chips with horseradish dip, several cups of sanka with vanilla sugar-free creamer, two cups of tea, some rice crackers, a handful of raw stir-fry veggies, and 180 calories-worth of Starbucks frappuccino. Plus there's that extra 15 pounds I'm carrying that my body is welcome to burn whenever it wants to.
But I'm freezing.
Back when I went through menopause, I had very little problem with hot flashes. I had them, but seldom, and mild.
I'd welcome one of them now.
I'm off to boost the thermostat. Maybe it's broken and lying, and it's actually 50 degrees in here? Nah. It's right. I'm wrong. My internal thermostat is broken.
----------------------------
Slightly later - Something I'd noticed: I don't feel cold in the house when the sun is up, no matter what the thermostat says. It's always after the sun goes down that I start feeling so deep bone cold. And it's worse on an evening when the day had been cloudy. Today was cloudy. I don't know whether I'm sensitive to the heat the house collects from the sun, and notice when it's not there, or whether I'm sensitive to the sun itself. But it's definitely lack-of-sun-related.
----------------------------
Even later - How do I know it's dark out, or cloudy? The lights are on in the house! When do I get cold? When the lights are on! That's it! The lights are sucking the energy out of me!
.
Thursday, February 07, 2008
1674 Internet Cable Map
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Betcha thought internet natter whizzed around the world by satellite. Nope. Cable. Most of it, anyway. Good old fashioned old technology undersea cables.
This map shows breaks in the cable, notably the recent one that took out most of the Middle East. Click on the map to enlarge:
[http://image.guardian.co.uk/sys-images/Technology/Pix/pictures/2008/02/01/SeaCableHi.jpg]
.
Betcha thought internet natter whizzed around the world by satellite. Nope. Cable. Most of it, anyway. Good old fashioned old technology undersea cables.
This map shows breaks in the cable, notably the recent one that took out most of the Middle East. Click on the map to enlarge:
[http://image.guardian.co.uk/sys-images/Technology/Pix/pictures/2008/02/01/SeaCableHi.jpg]
.
1673 Overdose
Thursday, February 7, 2008
The medical examiner's report is out on the young actor who recently died (I'm not using the name because I don't want search hits), and they're calling it an accidental overdose. That means "no blame assigned".
If anyone should take the responsibility, it should be the doctor who prescribed all those narcotics he was taking.
In my opinion, if you're going to hand someone that many medications that whack the brain and depress the systems, you don't put the patient in charge of dosing! You also prescribe a nurse, who can count. The patient, in despiration, will take one, it doesn't work immediately, he takes another, gets foggy in the head, forgets how long it's been, takes something else, gets foggier, and next thing you know he's counting pills like Ex#2 used to count booze: 1, 2, 3, 2, 1, 1, 1 ....
And, oxycontin? WTH?! For the pain of coughing with pneumonia? Oh, come on! Oxy-anything is overkill. That's something you use for like cancer pain, or surgery involving nerves and other heavy-duty stuff. With everything else he was taking, the stuff they give for arthritis should have been more than sufficient for the cough.
Whoever prescribed those meds without foreseeing what was likely to happen is responsible for what did happen. In my opinion.
.
The medical examiner's report is out on the young actor who recently died (I'm not using the name because I don't want search hits), and they're calling it an accidental overdose. That means "no blame assigned".
If anyone should take the responsibility, it should be the doctor who prescribed all those narcotics he was taking.
In my opinion, if you're going to hand someone that many medications that whack the brain and depress the systems, you don't put the patient in charge of dosing! You also prescribe a nurse, who can count. The patient, in despiration, will take one, it doesn't work immediately, he takes another, gets foggy in the head, forgets how long it's been, takes something else, gets foggier, and next thing you know he's counting pills like Ex#2 used to count booze: 1, 2, 3, 2, 1, 1, 1 ....
And, oxycontin? WTH?! For the pain of coughing with pneumonia? Oh, come on! Oxy-anything is overkill. That's something you use for like cancer pain, or surgery involving nerves and other heavy-duty stuff. With everything else he was taking, the stuff they give for arthritis should have been more than sufficient for the cough.
Whoever prescribed those meds without foreseeing what was likely to happen is responsible for what did happen. In my opinion.
.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
1672 Dogma
"The only thing wrong with Christianity is the Christians."
"The key difference between Spreading the Word of God and Spreading the Word of the Church can be summed up thusly: the Church is the shoddy house that was built upon the perfect earth. I'm not saying that the Church is bad; I'm saying it was built by men (and women) and because of this, it's weak and frail. The earth, on the other hand, is organic and natural, strong and durable.
Like God."
Kevin Smith
Dogma, liner notes
.
"The key difference between Spreading the Word of God and Spreading the Word of the Church can be summed up thusly: the Church is the shoddy house that was built upon the perfect earth. I'm not saying that the Church is bad; I'm saying it was built by men (and women) and because of this, it's weak and frail. The earth, on the other hand, is organic and natural, strong and durable.
Like God."
Kevin Smith
Dogma, liner notes
.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
1671 A Unique Geek
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
I went to NJ yesterday, to visit a friend. My cinematic experience is sorely lacking, so on our last several dates he has been introducing me to his favorite movies. Last night was Monty Python's "The Meaning of Life". The e-card I had sent him for his birthday last year was the song about how unique we are in the universe (I forget the name, but Eric Idle sings it). I sent it because I thought it was beautiful. It cracked him up because of the connection with that movie, which I didn't know about. He thinks I'm lacking in geekiness, and he's working on fixing that.
I had commented that I always get more out of anything on the second viewing, so after we watch them he gives me the DVD. Not lends, gives. I'm building up quite a collection.
This is the first time I've seen him directly after work, before he has had a chance to decompress. Usually there's a long drive before he joins me. Last night he was mentally bouncing off walls, and I loved it!
Daughter and Hercules left for Florida today, to visit my sister and to see a shuttle launch (Thursday, I think). I'm jealous.
--------------------------
Is America to become an obamanation?
.
I went to NJ yesterday, to visit a friend. My cinematic experience is sorely lacking, so on our last several dates he has been introducing me to his favorite movies. Last night was Monty Python's "The Meaning of Life". The e-card I had sent him for his birthday last year was the song about how unique we are in the universe (I forget the name, but Eric Idle sings it). I sent it because I thought it was beautiful. It cracked him up because of the connection with that movie, which I didn't know about. He thinks I'm lacking in geekiness, and he's working on fixing that.
I had commented that I always get more out of anything on the second viewing, so after we watch them he gives me the DVD. Not lends, gives. I'm building up quite a collection.
This is the first time I've seen him directly after work, before he has had a chance to decompress. Usually there's a long drive before he joins me. Last night he was mentally bouncing off walls, and I loved it!
Daughter and Hercules left for Florida today, to visit my sister and to see a shuttle launch (Thursday, I think). I'm jealous.
--------------------------
Is America to become an obamanation?
.
Monday, February 04, 2008
1670 Brag
Monday, February 4, 2008
I just joined Intertel. Sent my score in about six weeks ago, and finally got the invitation. All it really means is that I can take standardized tests better than half the people in Mensa. The only people who will be impressed are other Mensans. But ... that alone makes it worth the dues! Heh heh heh. There shall be some consternation....
Next - the Triple Nine Society! According to their chart, I qualify. I shall single-handedly prove that IQ tests have no meaning!
.
I just joined Intertel. Sent my score in about six weeks ago, and finally got the invitation. All it really means is that I can take standardized tests better than half the people in Mensa. The only people who will be impressed are other Mensans. But ... that alone makes it worth the dues! Heh heh heh. There shall be some consternation....
Next - the Triple Nine Society! According to their chart, I qualify. I shall single-handedly prove that IQ tests have no meaning!
.
1669 Words, again
Monday, February 4, 2008
Loose does not mean lose.
Formerly does not mean formally.
Peak means neither pique nor peek.
Site does not mean sight.
Conversate is not a word. Try "converse".
And how the heck did "called her out of her name" happen? Why the weird construction? The person from whom I heard it was being formal, and was very careful to enunciate the "of", as if that made it more proper.
.
Loose does not mean lose.
Formerly does not mean formally.
Peak means neither pique nor peek.
Site does not mean sight.
Conversate is not a word. Try "converse".
And how the heck did "called her out of her name" happen? Why the weird construction? The person from whom I heard it was being formal, and was very careful to enunciate the "of", as if that made it more proper.
.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
1668 Procrastination
Sunday, February 3, 2008
I'm supposed to be paying bills and shoveling paper out of the house today. Instead, I've spent almost the entire day listening to music. I keep about 20 CDs in the car, and I'm tired of the collection out there now. I want to select another set, and I'm having a bit of trouble. Nothing seems exactly right.
-----------------------
Blogger spellcheck isn't working for me today. I click on it and nothing happens. Anyone else having the same problem?
.
I'm supposed to be paying bills and shoveling paper out of the house today. Instead, I've spent almost the entire day listening to music. I keep about 20 CDs in the car, and I'm tired of the collection out there now. I want to select another set, and I'm having a bit of trouble. Nothing seems exactly right.
-----------------------
Blogger spellcheck isn't working for me today. I click on it and nothing happens. Anyone else having the same problem?
.
1667 Itchy Skin!
Sunday, February 3, 2008
I ITCH today! I itch everywhere. When I run my hands over my skin, especially on the sides of my waist, my neck, upper back, upper chest, and forearms, I feel like I'd fallen into a cactus patch. Little electric shocks, like there are tiny spines stuck in my skin that stab me when I touch them. I can pin some of them down to a specific spot, and when I look, there's nothing there, but when I run a finger over it, it bites me. The nerves fire.
Yesterday's volunteer gig was at a vocational school. They have all kinds of workshops there, and I'm wondering if I've picked up some tiny bits of insulation or something, floating in the air. Sitting next to the door as I was, I'd have been in a high-flow area. I have showered since, but if they're stuck in my skin.... I tried applying and pulling tape, like you would for cactus spines, but it didn't fix it.
It's driving me slowly crazy.
My grandmother had the most amazing skin - smooth and soft and very pink and white. She credited Ivory soap, but my mother's skin was similar, so I think it was genes. Gramma's skin wasn't particularly sensitive, except in one way. She couldn't be around fiberglass, in any soft form.
In the 50s it was fashionable to cover Christmas trees with a web of fiberglass. Before she entered any house, Gramma would have to ask what they'd used on the tree, and if it was that fiberglass, she couldn't go in. She'd swell up all over, even if she didn't get near the tree. The stuff was in the air. (You have to wonder about people's breathing it.)
Once house insulation was installed and closed up, it was ok, but she couldn't enter a new house, or one that had just had insulation work done. In the 60s, fiberglass drapes were popular. Gramma could be in a room with them, but they couldn't be touched while she was there.
She was the same way about peaches. If Gramma was touched by a peach, she'd swell and itch. The peach fuzz got into and irritated her skin. I remember my grandfather chasing her around the house with a peach one day when I was very young, and I was afraid of "poison peaches" for a while after.
And that was about it - just fiberglass and peaches. Weird, huh?
People have said that Marilyn Monroe photographed so well because of the reflective quality of her skin. She had a thin outer layer, with white fat under, so that her skin reflected light, and she seemed to glow.
Mom's skin was like that. She glows in photographs. She showed me an old yellowed newspaper clipping once, a photo of her high school class at graduation. There were several hundred faces, caps and gowns, rows and rows in auditorium seats. No face was more than 1/4 inch high, if that. She said, "Find me", and I pointed to her, about a third of the way back, without hesitation. She glowed. Her face was the cream in a sea of sepia.
So, then there's me. Gramma's itch, without the glow. Shuffle the cards again, please.
.
I ITCH today! I itch everywhere. When I run my hands over my skin, especially on the sides of my waist, my neck, upper back, upper chest, and forearms, I feel like I'd fallen into a cactus patch. Little electric shocks, like there are tiny spines stuck in my skin that stab me when I touch them. I can pin some of them down to a specific spot, and when I look, there's nothing there, but when I run a finger over it, it bites me. The nerves fire.
Yesterday's volunteer gig was at a vocational school. They have all kinds of workshops there, and I'm wondering if I've picked up some tiny bits of insulation or something, floating in the air. Sitting next to the door as I was, I'd have been in a high-flow area. I have showered since, but if they're stuck in my skin.... I tried applying and pulling tape, like you would for cactus spines, but it didn't fix it.
It's driving me slowly crazy.
My grandmother had the most amazing skin - smooth and soft and very pink and white. She credited Ivory soap, but my mother's skin was similar, so I think it was genes. Gramma's skin wasn't particularly sensitive, except in one way. She couldn't be around fiberglass, in any soft form.
In the 50s it was fashionable to cover Christmas trees with a web of fiberglass. Before she entered any house, Gramma would have to ask what they'd used on the tree, and if it was that fiberglass, she couldn't go in. She'd swell up all over, even if she didn't get near the tree. The stuff was in the air. (You have to wonder about people's breathing it.)
Once house insulation was installed and closed up, it was ok, but she couldn't enter a new house, or one that had just had insulation work done. In the 60s, fiberglass drapes were popular. Gramma could be in a room with them, but they couldn't be touched while she was there.
She was the same way about peaches. If Gramma was touched by a peach, she'd swell and itch. The peach fuzz got into and irritated her skin. I remember my grandfather chasing her around the house with a peach one day when I was very young, and I was afraid of "poison peaches" for a while after.
And that was about it - just fiberglass and peaches. Weird, huh?
People have said that Marilyn Monroe photographed so well because of the reflective quality of her skin. She had a thin outer layer, with white fat under, so that her skin reflected light, and she seemed to glow.
Mom's skin was like that. She glows in photographs. She showed me an old yellowed newspaper clipping once, a photo of her high school class at graduation. There were several hundred faces, caps and gowns, rows and rows in auditorium seats. No face was more than 1/4 inch high, if that. She said, "Find me", and I pointed to her, about a third of the way back, without hesitation. She glowed. Her face was the cream in a sea of sepia.
So, then there's me. Gramma's itch, without the glow. Shuffle the cards again, please.
.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
1666 Volunteer day
Saturday, February 2, 2008
I volunteered at a free tax clinic today. I was assigned to the intake desk, right inside the front doors of the votec school where the clinic was held. I took names & addresses, and handed out forms and materials. It would have been a pretty good assignment, except for a few problems.
There were two sets of double doors between me and the outside, but one of the inner doors wouldn't close when anyone opened it. And if someone pushed it partially closed, it crept wide open again. This meant if I didn't get up and close it everytime anyone went through the door, I was blasted by a constant cold draft. The door was about 15 feet from my desk.
I did manage to get hold of a building custodian. I explained the problem. She looked at the door hanging open, pulled it closed, and said "There, all fixed." I gave up. I considered blocking the door with a garbage can or something, so people would use the good door, but I was afraid I'd be breaking some fire regulation.
I noticed something really odd. The door with the attitude was on the right as you look at it from inside, on the left from outside. You'd push it to exit and pull it to enter. Everyone who exited pushed that door open. Ok, that makes sense. We automatically keep to the right in the US. However, about nine of ten people who entered, pulled on that door! They all reached out with their left hand to open the door, and pulled the door on their left open! They did not reach with their right hand to pull the door on their right open. About the only time anyone entered through the "good" door was when someone else was on their way out the "bad" door. How odd is this?
There were adult classes going on in the building, so there were literally hundreds of people going in and out.
The actual tax assistance was going on in a large room elsewhere. I think they forgot me. I was there for almost six hours, and nobody came to see if I needed a potty break, or a drink of water, or lunch. I couldn't leave the post because of the papers there, and because we couldn't have un-checked-in people wandering around the building looking for the tax room.
Luckily, I didn't need a potty break because I was so thirsty.
I'll be doing this again in two weeks at a different location, and I'll make sure I don't have the same problem. I'll make sure someone is assigned to relieve me occasionally.
I was surprised at the number of people who came in for tax help with all the kids in tow, mostly one-a-year ages. Like, three toddlers, or five preschoolers. I can't imagine what it was like in the tax room.
Most people left happy, and smiled and waved at me on their way out. That was nice. There were only three people who left in a huff - two because there weren't enough Spanish speakers to help them and they'd have had to wait, and one woman because "They're too impersonal in there!" Whatever that meant.
.
I volunteered at a free tax clinic today. I was assigned to the intake desk, right inside the front doors of the votec school where the clinic was held. I took names & addresses, and handed out forms and materials. It would have been a pretty good assignment, except for a few problems.
There were two sets of double doors between me and the outside, but one of the inner doors wouldn't close when anyone opened it. And if someone pushed it partially closed, it crept wide open again. This meant if I didn't get up and close it everytime anyone went through the door, I was blasted by a constant cold draft. The door was about 15 feet from my desk.
I did manage to get hold of a building custodian. I explained the problem. She looked at the door hanging open, pulled it closed, and said "There, all fixed." I gave up. I considered blocking the door with a garbage can or something, so people would use the good door, but I was afraid I'd be breaking some fire regulation.
I noticed something really odd. The door with the attitude was on the right as you look at it from inside, on the left from outside. You'd push it to exit and pull it to enter. Everyone who exited pushed that door open. Ok, that makes sense. We automatically keep to the right in the US. However, about nine of ten people who entered, pulled on that door! They all reached out with their left hand to open the door, and pulled the door on their left open! They did not reach with their right hand to pull the door on their right open. About the only time anyone entered through the "good" door was when someone else was on their way out the "bad" door. How odd is this?
There were adult classes going on in the building, so there were literally hundreds of people going in and out.
The actual tax assistance was going on in a large room elsewhere. I think they forgot me. I was there for almost six hours, and nobody came to see if I needed a potty break, or a drink of water, or lunch. I couldn't leave the post because of the papers there, and because we couldn't have un-checked-in people wandering around the building looking for the tax room.
Luckily, I didn't need a potty break because I was so thirsty.
I'll be doing this again in two weeks at a different location, and I'll make sure I don't have the same problem. I'll make sure someone is assigned to relieve me occasionally.
I was surprised at the number of people who came in for tax help with all the kids in tow, mostly one-a-year ages. Like, three toddlers, or five preschoolers. I can't imagine what it was like in the tax room.
Most people left happy, and smiled and waved at me on their way out. That was nice. There were only three people who left in a huff - two because there weren't enough Spanish speakers to help them and they'd have had to wait, and one woman because "They're too impersonal in there!" Whatever that meant.
.
1665 I Want to Do This!
Saturday, February 2, 2008
All I need is a few hundred volunteers, some people with video cameras, and a large crowded venue. Maybe the county fair? Anybody want to join me?
[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jwMj3PJDxuo]
All I need is a few hundred volunteers, some people with video cameras, and a large crowded venue. Maybe the county fair? Anybody want to join me?
[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jwMj3PJDxuo]
Friday, February 01, 2008
1664 Still Waiting
Friday, February 1, 2008
I'm still waiting for that shoe to drop, I guess. Maybe it's winter blahs. I'm just not doing anything or getting anything done. I look at the local events calendars and mark things I'd like to attend - lectures, "evenings", openings, coffee house discussions, whatever - and when the time comes, I'm just not willing to make the effort to go.
I'm skipping something tonight that I had been looking forward to. But at least tonight I can blame it on the weather. We've had alternating snow, hail, sleet, and freezing rain all day. The roads are a mess. I've been waiting for the electricity to drop, but I guess no sliding cars or falling trees have scored yet.
I spent the past Sunday and Monday in NJ. They have no snow. It was so nice on Monday I left my coat in the car while Daughter and I were shopping. I felt good there, even with the poison air and lethal roads. Then I drove home Monday evening, and when I crossed the river and neared home, I got more and more depressed, in direct proportion to the depth of dirty snowbanks along the road. The ice on my driveway was the final blow.
I want Spring.
.
I'm still waiting for that shoe to drop, I guess. Maybe it's winter blahs. I'm just not doing anything or getting anything done. I look at the local events calendars and mark things I'd like to attend - lectures, "evenings", openings, coffee house discussions, whatever - and when the time comes, I'm just not willing to make the effort to go.
I'm skipping something tonight that I had been looking forward to. But at least tonight I can blame it on the weather. We've had alternating snow, hail, sleet, and freezing rain all day. The roads are a mess. I've been waiting for the electricity to drop, but I guess no sliding cars or falling trees have scored yet.
I spent the past Sunday and Monday in NJ. They have no snow. It was so nice on Monday I left my coat in the car while Daughter and I were shopping. I felt good there, even with the poison air and lethal roads. Then I drove home Monday evening, and when I crossed the river and neared home, I got more and more depressed, in direct proportion to the depth of dirty snowbanks along the road. The ice on my driveway was the final blow.
I want Spring.
.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
1663 Depraved?
The way they scored this test is a bit confusing. I think the way it works is the lower the percent, the "better" you scored in that category. Like, I'm slightly less shameless than average, but I have a higher sex drive, and I've got a smaller gay side than average (I have seen other women naked, and have been seen naked, but that's all). And apparently I have a LOT more experience with the opposite sex than average.
It's easiest to just look at the comments on the right. If they're under the right column, well, wait. Eventually more posts will move it down past the obstructions.
I am amused that they can't compare me to anyone in my age group, because there's no one else in my age group in their data base. Sheesh. That alone should get me some extra depravity points!
It's easiest to just look at the comments on the right. If they're under the right column, well, wait. Eventually more posts will move it down past the obstructions.
I am amused that they can't compare me to anyone in my age group, because there's no one else in my age group in their data base. Sheesh. That alone should get me some extra depravity points!
| Your Ultimate Purity Test 2.0 Score Is... | ||||
| Your Score: | Average For All Users | Average For All Straight Moderate Single Pink-Skinned 60 to 66-Year old Females (1 total) | ||
| Dating | 19.23% | 34.13% | 19.23% | Gone steady |
| Self-Lovin' | 46.97% | 60.89% | 46.97% | When I think about you - or anyone - I touch myself |
| Shamelessness | 77.42% | 77.34% | 77.42% | Has yet to see self in mirror |
| Sex Drive | 61.9% | 75.01% | 61.9% | A fool for love, but not always |
| Straightness | 9.26% | 39.22% | 9.26% | Knows the other body type like a map |
| Gayness | 94.44% | 78.14% | 94.44% | Repressed, are we? |
| Dominant | 76.67% | 86.69% | 76.67% | Afraid to cross at "Don't Walk" signs |
| Submissive | 82.54% | 87.06% | 82.54% | Submits to no one... almost |
| Fucking Sick | 90.82% | 89.82% | 90.82% | Refreshingly normal |
| Total Score | 67.3% | 73.72% | 67.3% | |
| Take The Ultimate Purity Test 2.0 and see how you match up! (By The Ferrett) | ||||
1662 More Cat Stuff
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
I forgot to mention that when I was putting the collar on Jasper, I noticed a small lump on his head, about a half inch above one eye. I had noticed the bump over the past several days, but had assumed it was just a tangle of fur.
Today I decided to find out exactly what it was.
You know how cats' claws shed, and you'll find claw tips wherever they like to "sharpen" them?
It was a claw tip stuck in the top of Jasper's head.
Miss Thunderfoot apparently scored a good one.
.
I forgot to mention that when I was putting the collar on Jasper, I noticed a small lump on his head, about a half inch above one eye. I had noticed the bump over the past several days, but had assumed it was just a tangle of fur.
Today I decided to find out exactly what it was.
You know how cats' claws shed, and you'll find claw tips wherever they like to "sharpen" them?
It was a claw tip stuck in the top of Jasper's head.
Miss Thunderfoot apparently scored a good one.
.
1661 Escape Artist
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Well, today Jasper got his first collar. He accepted it with no fuss or complaint. A half hour later, it was lying on my bed - unbuckled.
I put it on him again, with two finger's play, and again within a half hour he had unbuckled it. He didn't slip it over his head - he unbuckled it. Again I found it on the bed.
I put it on him a third time, tighter, and then went into the bathroom where I could see him on the bed without being right there. The little sneak immediately tucked his chin under, and pulled the band around until the buckle was under his chin. Within about 15 minutes of rolling around and amazing contortions, he'd managed to catch his lower teeth under the band next to the buckle, and he pulled on it until he had unbuckled it! Exactly the same way I would unbuckle it with my fingers.
What was cute was that his gyrations trying to get hold of the collar had spilled him off the bed, so he had removed the collar on the floor. The little stinker picked up the collar and deposited it neatly on the bed, so I could find it and put it on him again.
We have a new game.
.
Well, today Jasper got his first collar. He accepted it with no fuss or complaint. A half hour later, it was lying on my bed - unbuckled.
I put it on him again, with two finger's play, and again within a half hour he had unbuckled it. He didn't slip it over his head - he unbuckled it. Again I found it on the bed.
I put it on him a third time, tighter, and then went into the bathroom where I could see him on the bed without being right there. The little sneak immediately tucked his chin under, and pulled the band around until the buckle was under his chin. Within about 15 minutes of rolling around and amazing contortions, he'd managed to catch his lower teeth under the band next to the buckle, and he pulled on it until he had unbuckled it! Exactly the same way I would unbuckle it with my fingers.
What was cute was that his gyrations trying to get hold of the collar had spilled him off the bed, so he had removed the collar on the floor. The little stinker picked up the collar and deposited it neatly on the bed, so I could find it and put it on him again.
We have a new game.
.
1660 Things I've found
Wednesday, January 30, 2008 (just after midnight)
I've been playing with http://www.pandora.com/. It's free. You set up a "radio station" by entering the name of a group or singer you like. Pandora analyzes the music, and then picks other artists you might like, on the basis of similar characteristics. As they play, you indicate whether or not you like what they've chosen (when there's something you especially like or hate), and that's input to further refine the selections. It doesn't seem to use lot of bandwidth to have a tailored "radio" playing the whole time you're on the computer.
Pandora has permission to play the stuff, and if you especially like something, they have the links for you to buy it. I discovered the contract bit when I was skipping some bad choices, and was informed that "under contract with the distributers" one is allowed to skip only a certain number a day. When you hit that limit, you have to listen even if you don't like it.
Try it. It's free. You just have to give them an email address, but in the four months since I registered, I haven't got any email from them.
-----------------------------
Sunday evening I introduced my friend to Billy's Balloon and Salad Fingers (both mentioned in previous posts). In return (or maybe to teach me a lesson) he showed me the Toyota Scion commercials. Now, these are vile! I couldn't believe they're real, but they are.
[http://www.youtube.com/v/dTeC9fKlHSk&rel=1]
[http://www.youtube.com/v/MZqOxxgUYsc&rel=1]
Just what I always wanted - a vomit green car.
There's also a game based on these commercials. You kill sheeple and use the green blood to fuel a Scion factory. If you don't mind, I won't give you the link, but Google will.
------------------------------
I may or may not have mentioned this before, but it has become one of my favorite cartoon sites and is worth mentioning again: "Basic Instructions - your all-inclusive guide to a life well-lived" at http://www.basicinstructions.net/.
I've been playing with http://www.pandora.com/. It's free. You set up a "radio station" by entering the name of a group or singer you like. Pandora analyzes the music, and then picks other artists you might like, on the basis of similar characteristics. As they play, you indicate whether or not you like what they've chosen (when there's something you especially like or hate), and that's input to further refine the selections. It doesn't seem to use lot of bandwidth to have a tailored "radio" playing the whole time you're on the computer.
Pandora has permission to play the stuff, and if you especially like something, they have the links for you to buy it. I discovered the contract bit when I was skipping some bad choices, and was informed that "under contract with the distributers" one is allowed to skip only a certain number a day. When you hit that limit, you have to listen even if you don't like it.
Try it. It's free. You just have to give them an email address, but in the four months since I registered, I haven't got any email from them.
-----------------------------
Sunday evening I introduced my friend to Billy's Balloon and Salad Fingers (both mentioned in previous posts). In return (or maybe to teach me a lesson) he showed me the Toyota Scion commercials. Now, these are vile! I couldn't believe they're real, but they are.
[http://www.youtube.com/v/dTeC9fKlHSk&rel=1]
[http://www.youtube.com/v/MZqOxxgUYsc&rel=1]
Just what I always wanted - a vomit green car.
There's also a game based on these commercials. You kill sheeple and use the green blood to fuel a Scion factory. If you don't mind, I won't give you the link, but Google will.
------------------------------
I may or may not have mentioned this before, but it has become one of my favorite cartoon sites and is worth mentioning again: "Basic Instructions - your all-inclusive guide to a life well-lived" at http://www.basicinstructions.net/.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
1659 Back, and Recovering
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
I hadn't realized I hadn't posted since Friday. I guess because I had a draft out there from Saturday that I added to on Sunday morning, and it registered in my head as having done posting duty.
I went to NJ on Sunday, spent some quality time with a friend, and then on Monday visited with Daughter. It was all good.
Now I'm playing catch up.
And, well, that's about it.
.
I hadn't realized I hadn't posted since Friday. I guess because I had a draft out there from Saturday that I added to on Sunday morning, and it registered in my head as having done posting duty.
I went to NJ on Sunday, spent some quality time with a friend, and then on Monday visited with Daughter. It was all good.
Now I'm playing catch up.
And, well, that's about it.
.
Friday, January 25, 2008
1658 Ear Worm
Friday, January 25, 2008
You know how you'll get a song stuck in your head, and it plays over and over and you can't get rid of it?
For the past several days it had been the Rolling Stones' "Under My Thumb". Which wasn't too bad because at least I know the words.
Today, for some strange reason, not like I've heard it recently or anything, it's Carl Orff's "Carmina Burana".
[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7xCB6-h3wbs]
I'm going crazy. But at least I've got taste.
Later edit: After the clip plays, there's usually a series of choices at the bottom. If there's one there that says "Thereon", listen to that one. Thereon is a Swedish metal band, and I'm really going to have to check them out!
.
You know how you'll get a song stuck in your head, and it plays over and over and you can't get rid of it?
For the past several days it had been the Rolling Stones' "Under My Thumb". Which wasn't too bad because at least I know the words.
Today, for some strange reason, not like I've heard it recently or anything, it's Carl Orff's "Carmina Burana".
[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7xCB6-h3wbs]
I'm going crazy. But at least I've got taste.
Later edit: After the clip plays, there's usually a series of choices at the bottom. If there's one there that says "Thereon", listen to that one. Thereon is a Swedish metal band, and I'm really going to have to check them out!
.
1657 To Encourage Authorized Hugging
Friday, January 25, 2008
I bought this (it's reversible):
http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=180208595264&ssPageName=STRK:MEWN:IT&ih=008.
She's making another for me, similar to this one, but with laced shoulder straps that come up high under the arms, a slightly higher solid back, and a busk front so I can get into it by loosening laces instead of having to completely unlace. It will also have modesty panels under the lacing.
The custom one will be sort of like the black and purple ones (visit the seller's store), but mine is waist-length on the sides and back. (I love the longer length, and look fantastic in it, but my legs are so short that the longer bodice emphasises my lack of proportion.)
The custom jobby will be a while, but this one arrived the other day, and I love it.
I relearned why I needed the shoulder straps, though. This one makes the old soft "ladies" enthusiastically bulge out on the sides and they refuse to be restrained. Major muffin-top. I mean to where my arms get pushed out. So whatever else I wear it with will have to include a bra or a tight bodice to rein in the sides. Boo. (Unless, of course, I'm wearing nothing but stilettos with it, in which case nobody's going to notice side bulges anyway.)
.
I bought this (it's reversible):
http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=180208595264&ssPageName=STRK:MEWN:IT&ih=008.
She's making another for me, similar to this one, but with laced shoulder straps that come up high under the arms, a slightly higher solid back, and a busk front so I can get into it by loosening laces instead of having to completely unlace. It will also have modesty panels under the lacing.
The custom one will be sort of like the black and purple ones (visit the seller's store), but mine is waist-length on the sides and back. (I love the longer length, and look fantastic in it, but my legs are so short that the longer bodice emphasises my lack of proportion.)
The custom jobby will be a while, but this one arrived the other day, and I love it.
I relearned why I needed the shoulder straps, though. This one makes the old soft "ladies" enthusiastically bulge out on the sides and they refuse to be restrained. Major muffin-top. I mean to where my arms get pushed out. So whatever else I wear it with will have to include a bra or a tight bodice to rein in the sides. Boo. (Unless, of course, I'm wearing nothing but stilettos with it, in which case nobody's going to notice side bulges anyway.)
.
1656 To Prevent Unauthorized Hugging
Friday, January 25, 2008
From http://www.no-contact.com/:
"The No-Contact Jacket is a wearable defensive jacket created to aid women in their struggle for protection from violence. When activated by the wearer, 80,000 volts of low amperage electric current pulses just below the surface shell of the entire jacket. This exo-electric armor prevents any person from unauthorized contact with the wearer's body. If an assailant were to grab hold of the wearer the high voltage exterior would interrupt their neurological impulses which control voluntary muscle movement. The neuromuscular system would be overwhelmed causing disorientation and loss of balance to occur and of course pain. The pain experienced is non-lethal but is enough to effectively and immediately deter contact with the wearer and provide a critical life saving opportunity for escape."
The jacket is actually quite attractive. I tried to copy a picture here, but it's a flash thingy and I don't know how to do that.
I wonder if it's legal where tasers are not. Matching pants could cut down on kamakazi ankle attacks from young cats (cut it out, Jasper!). I wonder if they make pyjamas?
.
From http://www.no-contact.com/:
"The No-Contact Jacket is a wearable defensive jacket created to aid women in their struggle for protection from violence. When activated by the wearer, 80,000 volts of low amperage electric current pulses just below the surface shell of the entire jacket. This exo-electric armor prevents any person from unauthorized contact with the wearer's body. If an assailant were to grab hold of the wearer the high voltage exterior would interrupt their neurological impulses which control voluntary muscle movement. The neuromuscular system would be overwhelmed causing disorientation and loss of balance to occur and of course pain. The pain experienced is non-lethal but is enough to effectively and immediately deter contact with the wearer and provide a critical life saving opportunity for escape."
The jacket is actually quite attractive. I tried to copy a picture here, but it's a flash thingy and I don't know how to do that.
I wonder if it's legal where tasers are not. Matching pants could cut down on kamakazi ankle attacks from young cats (cut it out, Jasper!). I wonder if they make pyjamas?
.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
1655 Death of time
Thursday, January 24, 2008
This is a very amusing post from Chuck Ferris, who lives in a retirement home somewhere in California, about his attempts to kill a talking watch. Go visit.
[http://journals.aol.com/chasferris/DribblebyChuckFerris/entries/2008/01/24/death-of-a-talking-watch/2527]
.
This is a very amusing post from Chuck Ferris, who lives in a retirement home somewhere in California, about his attempts to kill a talking watch. Go visit.
[http://journals.aol.com/chasferris/DribblebyChuckFerris/entries/2008/01/24/death-of-a-talking-watch/2527]
.
1654 Sick, sick, sick
Thursday, January 24, 2008
I went to YouTube.com today, looking for a music video of "Fingers", and accidentally discovered an animated series called "Salad Fingers".
It's sick. Absolutely bizarre. The product of a warped mind. It's also addictive. You can't watch just one of the episodes, you have to follow it through. The first one, in fact, is a "huh", but as the clips progress and you get to know the character, you start to feel compassion. (I wish I hadn't watched the one about nettles, #3.) Number 7 is so sad, maybe because you finally have some inkling of what's going on.
I wanted to share it with someone, but almost everyone I know already thinks I'm sick in the head, so I finally sent a note to ... ah, I can't say who because she wouldn't want anyone to know how sick she is.
Anyway, she responded that yes, she and her husband had discovered Salad Fingers, and in fact, he had bought her a pair of panties (available on Cafe Press) with a mug shot of Salad Fingers on it, and a quote from one of the clips: "I like it when the red water comes out."
That about killed me.
A least I know I'm not the sickest person I know.
.
I went to YouTube.com today, looking for a music video of "Fingers", and accidentally discovered an animated series called "Salad Fingers".
It's sick. Absolutely bizarre. The product of a warped mind. It's also addictive. You can't watch just one of the episodes, you have to follow it through. The first one, in fact, is a "huh", but as the clips progress and you get to know the character, you start to feel compassion. (I wish I hadn't watched the one about nettles, #3.) Number 7 is so sad, maybe because you finally have some inkling of what's going on.
I wanted to share it with someone, but almost everyone I know already thinks I'm sick in the head, so I finally sent a note to ... ah, I can't say who because she wouldn't want anyone to know how sick she is.
Anyway, she responded that yes, she and her husband had discovered Salad Fingers, and in fact, he had bought her a pair of panties (available on Cafe Press) with a mug shot of Salad Fingers on it, and a quote from one of the clips: "I like it when the red water comes out."
That about killed me.
A least I know I'm not the sickest person I know.
.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
1653 Busy with bylaws
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
I've been busier the past two days than I've been in ages. I had a lunch meeting with the chairman of the bylaws revision committee yesterday, and presented my comments on the "final draft" of the local Mensa bylaws. He found out why the design and publications departments of 35 products in 5 labs of The Company quaked in their boots when I reviewed their specifications and publications. I am detail-oriented and thorough. Also merciless.
The result is that he assigned me the final rewrite (which included rewording of two full sections), and also to present the changes and rationale to the board at Sunday's meeting.
I went to a group dinner last night, and started the rewrite after I got home.
He had been using Microsoft Office, which I don't have, so I retyped the entire 7-page document in Works Word (not so many functions, but adequate to the task, and available on most systems), made all the changes and corrections, sent copies to the other committee members for comment, and then incorporated their comments this evening.
I won't be able to go to the Sunday board meeting (I hope to be in NJ having fun), so I also wrote a description of all changes made, and the philosophy and rationale for each of the changes.
We have decided we can't call it amendments. It really is a complete rewrite. I'm rather proud of it. What we started with was unbelievably bad, full of inconsistencies and impossibilities. I don't know how it ever got approved.
I have a feeling of accomplishment, something I haven't felt in a long time.
.
I've been busier the past two days than I've been in ages. I had a lunch meeting with the chairman of the bylaws revision committee yesterday, and presented my comments on the "final draft" of the local Mensa bylaws. He found out why the design and publications departments of 35 products in 5 labs of The Company quaked in their boots when I reviewed their specifications and publications. I am detail-oriented and thorough. Also merciless.
The result is that he assigned me the final rewrite (which included rewording of two full sections), and also to present the changes and rationale to the board at Sunday's meeting.
I went to a group dinner last night, and started the rewrite after I got home.
He had been using Microsoft Office, which I don't have, so I retyped the entire 7-page document in Works Word (not so many functions, but adequate to the task, and available on most systems), made all the changes and corrections, sent copies to the other committee members for comment, and then incorporated their comments this evening.
I won't be able to go to the Sunday board meeting (I hope to be in NJ having fun), so I also wrote a description of all changes made, and the philosophy and rationale for each of the changes.
We have decided we can't call it amendments. It really is a complete rewrite. I'm rather proud of it. What we started with was unbelievably bad, full of inconsistencies and impossibilities. I don't know how it ever got approved.
I have a feeling of accomplishment, something I haven't felt in a long time.
.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
1652 Rude Awakening
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
I was dragged into a groggily awake state early this morning by Jasper leaping and bouncing all over my feet and lower legs.
I sleep on the "girl side" of my bed. The "boy side" is usually loaded with books, mending, an overnight case midway between packed and unpacked, you know, the usual stuff.
Miss Thunderfoot and Jasper have reached a sort of truce as far as the bed is concerned. Miss Thunderfoot sleeps at my upper chest level on the boy side, and Jasper "sleeps" (does he ever sleep?) on the far side of my ankles on the girl side.
I wasn't annoyed when he woke me. He's still a little kid, and I enjoy his energy, and he seemed to be having so much fun, so I just glanced down to make sure he hadn't pulled something out of the overnight case to shred. Without my glasses on it looked like he was playing with his sock, so I went back into a doze.
Then he stopped leaping around and settled down, and I started to drift off ...
... a few minutes ...
...when I was jerked awake by that "Kak kak KAK KaaaaaK!" sound that all cat owners know and dread.
I sat up just in time to see him throw up - kaaaakuk! - a mouse head. A HEAD! Just the head!
Followed by - kaaaakuk! - the rest of the mouse.
Followed by - kaaaakuk! - what had been inside the now deconstructed mouse.
On my BED! On my LEG!
Kak!
------------------------------
Could have been worse, I guess. In the 80's I had a cat who, almost every morning, placed MOST of a mouse on my pillow for me to find when I awoke. Proof that she loved me, you know.
After I convinced her that her providing breakfast was very nice thank you, but I don't much care for breakfast in bed, she would put the gifts in my shoes. She had an uncanny knack for knowing exactly which pair of shoes I planned to wear to work that day. I guess I was supposed to take it to work with me for a mid-morning snack.
No, you can't scold a cat for that. Sharing really IS proof that she loves you.
.
I was dragged into a groggily awake state early this morning by Jasper leaping and bouncing all over my feet and lower legs.
I sleep on the "girl side" of my bed. The "boy side" is usually loaded with books, mending, an overnight case midway between packed and unpacked, you know, the usual stuff.
Miss Thunderfoot and Jasper have reached a sort of truce as far as the bed is concerned. Miss Thunderfoot sleeps at my upper chest level on the boy side, and Jasper "sleeps" (does he ever sleep?) on the far side of my ankles on the girl side.
I wasn't annoyed when he woke me. He's still a little kid, and I enjoy his energy, and he seemed to be having so much fun, so I just glanced down to make sure he hadn't pulled something out of the overnight case to shred. Without my glasses on it looked like he was playing with his sock, so I went back into a doze.
Then he stopped leaping around and settled down, and I started to drift off ...
... a few minutes ...
...when I was jerked awake by that "Kak kak KAK KaaaaaK!" sound that all cat owners know and dread.
I sat up just in time to see him throw up - kaaaakuk! - a mouse head. A HEAD! Just the head!
Followed by - kaaaakuk! - the rest of the mouse.
Followed by - kaaaakuk! - what had been inside the now deconstructed mouse.
On my BED! On my LEG!
Kak!
------------------------------
Could have been worse, I guess. In the 80's I had a cat who, almost every morning, placed MOST of a mouse on my pillow for me to find when I awoke. Proof that she loved me, you know.
After I convinced her that her providing breakfast was very nice thank you, but I don't much care for breakfast in bed, she would put the gifts in my shoes. She had an uncanny knack for knowing exactly which pair of shoes I planned to wear to work that day. I guess I was supposed to take it to work with me for a mid-morning snack.
No, you can't scold a cat for that. Sharing really IS proof that she loves you.
.
Monday, January 21, 2008
1651 Looking for Lacing
Monday, January 21, 2008
Way back in high school, I used to know a way of lacing high boots that came out looking like a ladder up the front of the boot (made rectangles, with horizontal and vertical bars). I believe it was called paratrooper lacing, because paratroopers used it, because it stayed uniformly tight throughout under any conditions. It used only slightly more lace length than the regular "x" lacing.
I used to use it on my ice skates, so they wouldn't get that pinch at the ankle.
Now I'm looking at ice skates again, and I want to lace up them that way.
I don't remember how it went, and a Google search just gets me paratrooper boots, ice skates, and laces, but no ladder-style methods.
Anyone know how to do it?
If I ever find a guide, I'll update here. It really is great for ice skates, and tall flat-heel boots.
Later: Aha! Found it! Oddly enough, it's called Ladder Lacing, and is recommended for paratrooper boots and ice skates. lots of interesting lacing on that site. The section on tying the top bow, however, leaves me wondering....
.
Way back in high school, I used to know a way of lacing high boots that came out looking like a ladder up the front of the boot (made rectangles, with horizontal and vertical bars). I believe it was called paratrooper lacing, because paratroopers used it, because it stayed uniformly tight throughout under any conditions. It used only slightly more lace length than the regular "x" lacing.
I used to use it on my ice skates, so they wouldn't get that pinch at the ankle.
Now I'm looking at ice skates again, and I want to lace up them that way.
I don't remember how it went, and a Google search just gets me paratrooper boots, ice skates, and laces, but no ladder-style methods.
Anyone know how to do it?
If I ever find a guide, I'll update here. It really is great for ice skates, and tall flat-heel boots.
Later: Aha! Found it! Oddly enough, it's called Ladder Lacing, and is recommended for paratrooper boots and ice skates. lots of interesting lacing on that site. The section on tying the top bow, however, leaves me wondering....
.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
1650 Tired
Sunday, January 20, 2008
I goofed and drank caffeine at about 9 pm last night. As a consequence, I couldn't get to sleep. I had to be up and moving by 9:30 this morning.
I spent most of the not-sleeping time reading a boring book, working crossword puzzles, or wandering around the kitchen. When I finally did fall asleep about 7 am, I had one of those really weird dreams, so it wasn't good sleep. My tail is now dragging.
I don't remember much of the dream, but some parts I do remember. There was a floating walkway on water. Lots of people. I was sort of with a man who had two or three children. We saw a shark in the water, but then it went away. The man decided to go into the water to swim, and then I sensed that the shark was back, a little way out, although we couldn't see it. The children were about to join their father in the water, and I walked quickly toward them, calling them, to prevent their going in.
I was calling them with a high-pitched trill, to attract their attention and curiosity. I was fully aware that that particular sound would attract and excite the shark, but I did it anyway because it was important to get the kids. I did not warn the man that the shark was back. I don't know why. Just as I got to the children, the shark attacked the man. He was screaming. I hustled the kids into a speedboat. Even though the man was underwater being torn apart, we could still clearly hear him screaming as we sped away.
Another scene, later. I had been injured somehow earlier in the dream, and a doctor in a jungle had stitched up some deep cuts in my right arm. In this scene, I am going down corridors, opening doors, looking for something. I finally find a young person with whom I am supposed to continue the search. I had forgotten the injury to my arm until the young person asked how it was. I said it must be almost healed by now, and I unwrapped the bandages to show him/her. The cuts on the forearm were closed and healing, stitches dissolving on their own. But then when I unwrapped the elbow, I found that the entire inside of my elbow was a palm-sized hole, no tissue, I could see right down into the elbow workings. It wasn't infected - it just wasn't there. I had nothing clean to rewrap it with, and got worried about infection. So I bent my arm up tightly to keep the hole covered.
Even though there's a lot of the dream I can't remember, one thing I do know is that I had a dog throughout the dream. It was sleek, solid black, muscular, looked sort of like a whippet or Manchester terrier, smaller than a whippet but bigger than a Manchester. It was with me constantly, tight to my right calf, never more than a foot away. It turned when I turned. It was very comforting having it there. It (he?) and I had a strong connection.
When I woke up, my right arm was tightly bent, fisted, close to my chest. Must have been that way for a while, because it's still tired. I practically had to pry it straight.
What meaning, if any, does the dream have? I don't know. I'm amused by the dog, though. I have often thought my NJ friend is very Doberman-like. Strong, dark, muscular, intelligent, protective, good to have on your side in a fight. But also liable to snap when pushed, a bit unpredictable, unfathomable. Compare the three breeds below.
Whippet:
Manchester Terrier:
Doberman Pinscher:
.
I goofed and drank caffeine at about 9 pm last night. As a consequence, I couldn't get to sleep. I had to be up and moving by 9:30 this morning.
I spent most of the not-sleeping time reading a boring book, working crossword puzzles, or wandering around the kitchen. When I finally did fall asleep about 7 am, I had one of those really weird dreams, so it wasn't good sleep. My tail is now dragging.
I don't remember much of the dream, but some parts I do remember. There was a floating walkway on water. Lots of people. I was sort of with a man who had two or three children. We saw a shark in the water, but then it went away. The man decided to go into the water to swim, and then I sensed that the shark was back, a little way out, although we couldn't see it. The children were about to join their father in the water, and I walked quickly toward them, calling them, to prevent their going in.
I was calling them with a high-pitched trill, to attract their attention and curiosity. I was fully aware that that particular sound would attract and excite the shark, but I did it anyway because it was important to get the kids. I did not warn the man that the shark was back. I don't know why. Just as I got to the children, the shark attacked the man. He was screaming. I hustled the kids into a speedboat. Even though the man was underwater being torn apart, we could still clearly hear him screaming as we sped away.
Another scene, later. I had been injured somehow earlier in the dream, and a doctor in a jungle had stitched up some deep cuts in my right arm. In this scene, I am going down corridors, opening doors, looking for something. I finally find a young person with whom I am supposed to continue the search. I had forgotten the injury to my arm until the young person asked how it was. I said it must be almost healed by now, and I unwrapped the bandages to show him/her. The cuts on the forearm were closed and healing, stitches dissolving on their own. But then when I unwrapped the elbow, I found that the entire inside of my elbow was a palm-sized hole, no tissue, I could see right down into the elbow workings. It wasn't infected - it just wasn't there. I had nothing clean to rewrap it with, and got worried about infection. So I bent my arm up tightly to keep the hole covered.
Even though there's a lot of the dream I can't remember, one thing I do know is that I had a dog throughout the dream. It was sleek, solid black, muscular, looked sort of like a whippet or Manchester terrier, smaller than a whippet but bigger than a Manchester. It was with me constantly, tight to my right calf, never more than a foot away. It turned when I turned. It was very comforting having it there. It (he?) and I had a strong connection.
When I woke up, my right arm was tightly bent, fisted, close to my chest. Must have been that way for a while, because it's still tired. I practically had to pry it straight.
What meaning, if any, does the dream have? I don't know. I'm amused by the dog, though. I have often thought my NJ friend is very Doberman-like. Strong, dark, muscular, intelligent, protective, good to have on your side in a fight. But also liable to snap when pushed, a bit unpredictable, unfathomable. Compare the three breeds below.
Whippet:
Manchester Terrier:
Doberman Pinscher:
.
1649 No Year's Resolutions
Sunday, January 20, 2008
I didn't make any New Year's resolutions because I never keep them. Ever.
Several months ago I made some promises to myself.
I would wash dishes when I use them. No more building up a sinkful.
I would scan and dispose of the newspaper (in the recycle bag) every day. No more making piles of unread newspapers.
As a magazine came in, I would discard the previous month's copy. If I haven't read it by now, I won't.
None of that is difficult.
So howcum I have a sinkful of dirty dishes, and several stacks of unread newspapers and magazines?
'Cause I'm a slob, that's why.
.
I didn't make any New Year's resolutions because I never keep them. Ever.
Several months ago I made some promises to myself.
I would wash dishes when I use them. No more building up a sinkful.
I would scan and dispose of the newspaper (in the recycle bag) every day. No more making piles of unread newspapers.
As a magazine came in, I would discard the previous month's copy. If I haven't read it by now, I won't.
None of that is difficult.
So howcum I have a sinkful of dirty dishes, and several stacks of unread newspapers and magazines?
'Cause I'm a slob, that's why.
.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
1647 Weekend
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Yesterday was bad a bad electricity day. The power dropped at least four times. No idea why. Very annoying. And then today, I read this:
http://youngmammy.blogspot.com/2008/01/they-were-not-experts.html,
and I was ashamed of my annoyance.
I'm going to a "Games Night" party in Poughkeepsie tonight, and a hafla in Florida, NY, tomorrow. Tomorrow's hafla features some of my favorite dancers, and the cost is only $10 - free if you bring food. Very strange. The organizer has to rent a hall, and if everybody brings food, I wonder how she will pay for the space.
.
Yesterday was bad a bad electricity day. The power dropped at least four times. No idea why. Very annoying. And then today, I read this:
http://youngmammy.blogspot.com/2008/01/they-were-not-experts.html,
and I was ashamed of my annoyance.
I'm going to a "Games Night" party in Poughkeepsie tonight, and a hafla in Florida, NY, tomorrow. Tomorrow's hafla features some of my favorite dancers, and the cost is only $10 - free if you bring food. Very strange. The organizer has to rent a hall, and if everybody brings food, I wonder how she will pay for the space.
.
Friday, January 18, 2008
1646 Smile
Friday, January 18, 2008
I've seen this a dozen times, and it always makes me smile. Have a smile on me:
moar funny pictures
It's not just the dog, it's the expression on the dog.
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I've seen this a dozen times, and it always makes me smile. Have a smile on me:
moar funny pictures
It's not just the dog, it's the expression on the dog.
.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
1645 Adding On
Thursday, January 17, 2008
At lunch with Piper yesterday, he rhapsodized about another of his clients. "Our age." Lives in the village. Widower, five years. Big beard. Just a little bit overweight. Financially secure. Really nice guy. "Just your type!"
He wants me to meet him. Thinks this guy and I should "get together", that we'd really hit it off.
I laughed at Piper - "...all the things you're telling me don't matter that much to me. It's the mind I want."
Confusion. I know that Piper has occasional romantic thoughts about me. We've actually discussed it. I've explained that with the fiduciary relationship, it's not an option. (I really like Piper, but I don't feel that kind of chemistry.) Piper is very jealous and suspicious of my current relationship, and would like to see it disappear.
So, why is he trying to hook me up with this new guy? Very strange.
I said no thank you, "One man at a time, remember? Maybe someday, but right now I'm just not interested in starting up something else."
------------------------------
What's weird is that Piper's push has reminded me of one of my pet peeves. I'll renew a magazine or whatever subscription for three or five years, and the very next year, on the anniversary of that multi-year renewal, they send me an offer of a special discounted price on a renewal.
Like they hope I won't remember that I've got several years already, and I'll renew for three or five MORE!
Another scam : I subscribe to "Harper's" magazine. NOT "Harper's Bazaar", that's an entirely different magazine. I have never subscribed to "Harper's Bazaar". ** And yet, about every three months, I get a "renewal reminder" from "Harper's Bazaar".
Do they really hope I won't notice the difference, and think I'm renewing "Harper's"? Are they using the "Harper's" subscriber lists? Who should I be more annoyed with, "Harper's" for giving out my address, or "Harper's Bazaar" for the subterfuge (same publisher)?
Or Piper, for trying to throw another man under my wheels to distract me from the current one?
-----------------
** (I mean sheesh! Go to the links and read the descriptions of the magazines! They couldn't BE more different. I am a Harper's type, but the Bazaar might well make me vomit.)
.
At lunch with Piper yesterday, he rhapsodized about another of his clients. "Our age." Lives in the village. Widower, five years. Big beard. Just a little bit overweight. Financially secure. Really nice guy. "Just your type!"
He wants me to meet him. Thinks this guy and I should "get together", that we'd really hit it off.
I laughed at Piper - "...all the things you're telling me don't matter that much to me. It's the mind I want."
Confusion. I know that Piper has occasional romantic thoughts about me. We've actually discussed it. I've explained that with the fiduciary relationship, it's not an option. (I really like Piper, but I don't feel that kind of chemistry.) Piper is very jealous and suspicious of my current relationship, and would like to see it disappear.
So, why is he trying to hook me up with this new guy? Very strange.
I said no thank you, "One man at a time, remember? Maybe someday, but right now I'm just not interested in starting up something else."
------------------------------
What's weird is that Piper's push has reminded me of one of my pet peeves. I'll renew a magazine or whatever subscription for three or five years, and the very next year, on the anniversary of that multi-year renewal, they send me an offer of a special discounted price on a renewal.
Like they hope I won't remember that I've got several years already, and I'll renew for three or five MORE!
Another scam : I subscribe to "Harper's" magazine. NOT "Harper's Bazaar", that's an entirely different magazine. I have never subscribed to "Harper's Bazaar". ** And yet, about every three months, I get a "renewal reminder" from "Harper's Bazaar".
Do they really hope I won't notice the difference, and think I'm renewing "Harper's"? Are they using the "Harper's" subscriber lists? Who should I be more annoyed with, "Harper's" for giving out my address, or "Harper's Bazaar" for the subterfuge (same publisher)?
Or Piper, for trying to throw another man under my wheels to distract me from the current one?
-----------------
** (I mean sheesh! Go to the links and read the descriptions of the magazines! They couldn't BE more different. I am a Harper's type, but the Bazaar might well make me vomit.)
.
1644 Attitude
Check this out.
HEMA is a Dutch department store. The first store opened on November 4, 1926, in Amsterdam. Now there are 150 stores all over the Netherlands. HEMA also has stores in Belgium, Luxemburg, and Germany. In June of this year, HEMA was sold to British investment company Lion Capital.
Take a look at HEMA's product page, at http://producten.hema.nl/. You can't order anything and it's in Dutch, but let it load then wait a couple of seconds and watch what happens.
.
HEMA is a Dutch department store. The first store opened on November 4, 1926, in Amsterdam. Now there are 150 stores all over the Netherlands. HEMA also has stores in Belgium, Luxemburg, and Germany. In June of this year, HEMA was sold to British investment company Lion Capital.
Take a look at HEMA's product page, at http://producten.hema.nl/. You can't order anything and it's in Dutch, but let it load then wait a couple of seconds and watch what happens.
.
1643 Something Changed
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Every so often, for one reason or another, I go back into the archives and read old posts. There's some interesting stuff back there. I used to have "deep thoughts". I used to have opinions.
I don't anymore. Something has changed. No passion.
It's not like I have thoughts or opinions but I'm not writing about them, in the same way that I've decided not to write about other people. I just plain don't HAVE deep thoughts or strong opinions any more.
Maybe I'm depressed? I don't think so.
Maybe the economic and political and social climate have me shell-shocked, and I just gave up? Like there's no point in thinking about any of it? Possible, I guess.
Once upon a time I read 90-100 books a year. I kept a notebook where I reviewed every book read, where I wrote and wrote about what "deep thoughts" I got from the book. That was when I was married to Ex#2, and I thought I was going to die if my life didn't change, if something didn't happen. I retreated into books until I was strong enough to leave him.
I've started reading again. About one book a week. I don't know if that means anything. I'm not getting any "deep thoughts" from them.
The feeling is like my life is on hold, like I'm waiting for something. I'm listening. Breathing shallowly. Waiting for a shoe to drop. A signal.
.
Every so often, for one reason or another, I go back into the archives and read old posts. There's some interesting stuff back there. I used to have "deep thoughts". I used to have opinions.
I don't anymore. Something has changed. No passion.
It's not like I have thoughts or opinions but I'm not writing about them, in the same way that I've decided not to write about other people. I just plain don't HAVE deep thoughts or strong opinions any more.
Maybe I'm depressed? I don't think so.
Maybe the economic and political and social climate have me shell-shocked, and I just gave up? Like there's no point in thinking about any of it? Possible, I guess.
Once upon a time I read 90-100 books a year. I kept a notebook where I reviewed every book read, where I wrote and wrote about what "deep thoughts" I got from the book. That was when I was married to Ex#2, and I thought I was going to die if my life didn't change, if something didn't happen. I retreated into books until I was strong enough to leave him.
I've started reading again. About one book a week. I don't know if that means anything. I'm not getting any "deep thoughts" from them.
The feeling is like my life is on hold, like I'm waiting for something. I'm listening. Breathing shallowly. Waiting for a shoe to drop. A signal.
.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
1642 The Market Is/Isn't There?
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
I met with Piper this morning to go over the investments. He thinks the market will rebound, that there will not be a true recession, and that now is the time to increase the proportion of equities in my portfolio. I hope to Hell he's right. We're going 60-40.
Then this afternoon, I heard the price of crude had dropped. Interesting.
-------------------------------
After losing 40 pounds (at 4'10", that's a lot) and replacing almost my entire wardrobe, I've got a lot of unwearable clothes in size PM, PL and size P12 and P14 that are almost new (some actually still have tags). I'm now into size PS and P6 or P8 (P10 in jeans).
I buy the majority of my clothes from one particular store. Their stuff is frankly overpriced, but I never pay more than 50% retail for anything, anyway, especially now that they consider me a special customer and keep sending me special offers and coupons, and I'm hitting 70% or more off. I got a great idea this evening - maybe I can sell the old stuff on eBay! Even better, maybe somebody gained some weight, and has some small stuff I can pick up cheap.
So I went to eBay, and ran a search for that label. I got 4,020 hits. I looked through the first three pages - and almost every item out there was XL, 1X, 2X, 3X, 16, 18, and up! I think I saw two Mediums. No smaller sizes. Nothing for me to buy.
On the good side, bidding is brisk, and a lot of the stuff is actually selling for more than I had paid for the same items (in a smaller size)!
What does this mean? Does it mean there'd be a healthy market for my old sizes? Or none at all? Is it only large people who wear this label?
I think it's weird.
Maybe I should ask Piper.
.
I met with Piper this morning to go over the investments. He thinks the market will rebound, that there will not be a true recession, and that now is the time to increase the proportion of equities in my portfolio. I hope to Hell he's right. We're going 60-40.
Then this afternoon, I heard the price of crude had dropped. Interesting.
-------------------------------
After losing 40 pounds (at 4'10", that's a lot) and replacing almost my entire wardrobe, I've got a lot of unwearable clothes in size PM, PL and size P12 and P14 that are almost new (some actually still have tags). I'm now into size PS and P6 or P8 (P10 in jeans).
I buy the majority of my clothes from one particular store. Their stuff is frankly overpriced, but I never pay more than 50% retail for anything, anyway, especially now that they consider me a special customer and keep sending me special offers and coupons, and I'm hitting 70% or more off. I got a great idea this evening - maybe I can sell the old stuff on eBay! Even better, maybe somebody gained some weight, and has some small stuff I can pick up cheap.
So I went to eBay, and ran a search for that label. I got 4,020 hits. I looked through the first three pages - and almost every item out there was XL, 1X, 2X, 3X, 16, 18, and up! I think I saw two Mediums. No smaller sizes. Nothing for me to buy.
On the good side, bidding is brisk, and a lot of the stuff is actually selling for more than I had paid for the same items (in a smaller size)!
What does this mean? Does it mean there'd be a healthy market for my old sizes? Or none at all? Is it only large people who wear this label?
I think it's weird.
Maybe I should ask Piper.
.
1641 Distance
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Ivillage.com has an advice "columnist" (she does videos) named Tracy Cox, who gives some pretty good snippets of "advice for singles". I watched a video on long distance relationships yesterday. I tried to embed it here, but it kept coming up just a black square. Doesn't matter. I can synopsize it.
A. Some things to consider:
I'm getting very frustrated.
.
Ivillage.com has an advice "columnist" (she does videos) named Tracy Cox, who gives some pretty good snippets of "advice for singles". I watched a video on long distance relationships yesterday. I tried to embed it here, but it kept coming up just a black square. Doesn't matter. I can synopsize it.
A. Some things to consider:
- Accept that it's going to be hard. Maintaining a relationship by email or phone will be frustrating. It's a little easier if you had established a relationship before being separated, so you already knew each other well, because then there's less second-guessing and misunderstanding, more trust.
- Be sure you can afford it. There will be times when a quick trip will feel necessary. If you can afford it (both time and dollars), fine. If not, frustration.
- Accept that you will be lonely. Your friends will be going everywhere in pairs, and you will be going solo. You'll be lying alone in bed, wondering if the other is curled up with someone else.
- Disagreements will be harder to resolve. The lack of touch makes making up more difficult.
- Be sure that there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Can you see it? Is it really possible that one or the other or both of you will be willing to move to be together?
- Ideally you should contact each other at least once a day, even if only a text message. Let each other know you're thinking about each other.
- Don't make time together too romantic. Don't try to schedule your time so everything is perfect. When you are together, try to be together as if you were living together. Use the time to find out if you would be compatible long term.
- If you find you get along better when you're apart than when you're together, you may be more in love with the idea of this person than with the person.
I'm getting very frustrated.
.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
1640 Getting Old?
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
I had logged off and turned off, and was about to shut down when I realized I wanted to post about something. So I brought the browser back up, and here I am, and I can't remember what I wanted to say. Sorta like walking into a room and forgetting why you're there.
Duh.
.
I had logged off and turned off, and was about to shut down when I realized I wanted to post about something. So I brought the browser back up, and here I am, and I can't remember what I wanted to say. Sorta like walking into a room and forgetting why you're there.
Duh.
.
Monday, January 14, 2008
1639 Religion Match
Monday, January 14, 2008
I took the test at Belief-O-Matic [http://www.beliefnet.com/story/76/story_7665_1.html]. I thought the questions were pretty good. In at least two cases, it was the first time I had seen my beliefs expressed in words, as something others might believe. Unfortunately, even though several belief systems scored pretty high (100%???) as a match, when I read about them, I'm not sure they're really all that close.
My Results:
The top score on the list below represents the faith that Belief-O-Matic, in its less than infinite wisdom, thinks most closely matches your beliefs. However, even a score of 100% does not mean that your views are all shared by this faith, or vice versa. Belief-O-Matic then lists another 26 faiths in order of how much they have in common with your professed beliefs. The higher a faith appears on this list, the more closely it aligns with your thinking.
1. Neo-Pagan (100%)
2. New Age (93%)
3. Unitarian Universalism (93%)
4. New Thought (85%)
5. Liberal Quakers (84%)
6. Scientology (81%)
7. Mahayana Buddhism (77%)
8. Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants (76%)
9. Theravada Buddhism (72%)
10. Reform Judaism (68%)
11. Christian Science (Church of Christ, Scientist) (67%)
12. Hinduism (67%)
13. Orthodox Quaker (65%)
14. Sikhism (61%)
15. Secular Humanism (58%)
16. Taoism (55%)
17. Jainism (55%)
18. Orthodox Judaism (50%)
19. Bahá'à Faith (49%)
20. Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) (43%)
21. Islam (36%)
22. Mainline to Conservative Christian/Protestant (34%)
23. Jehovah's Witness (31%)
24. Nontheist (31%)
25. Eastern Orthodox (29%)
26. Roman Catholic (29%)
27. Seventh Day Adventist (28%)
.
I took the test at Belief-O-Matic [http://www.beliefnet.com/story/76/story_7665_1.html]. I thought the questions were pretty good. In at least two cases, it was the first time I had seen my beliefs expressed in words, as something others might believe. Unfortunately, even though several belief systems scored pretty high (100%???) as a match, when I read about them, I'm not sure they're really all that close.
My Results:
The top score on the list below represents the faith that Belief-O-Matic, in its less than infinite wisdom, thinks most closely matches your beliefs. However, even a score of 100% does not mean that your views are all shared by this faith, or vice versa. Belief-O-Matic then lists another 26 faiths in order of how much they have in common with your professed beliefs. The higher a faith appears on this list, the more closely it aligns with your thinking.
1. Neo-Pagan (100%)
2. New Age (93%)
3. Unitarian Universalism (93%)
4. New Thought (85%)
5. Liberal Quakers (84%)
6. Scientology (81%)
7. Mahayana Buddhism (77%)
8. Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants (76%)
9. Theravada Buddhism (72%)
10. Reform Judaism (68%)
11. Christian Science (Church of Christ, Scientist) (67%)
12. Hinduism (67%)
13. Orthodox Quaker (65%)
14. Sikhism (61%)
15. Secular Humanism (58%)
16. Taoism (55%)
17. Jainism (55%)
18. Orthodox Judaism (50%)
19. Bahá'à Faith (49%)
20. Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) (43%)
21. Islam (36%)
22. Mainline to Conservative Christian/Protestant (34%)
23. Jehovah's Witness (31%)
24. Nontheist (31%)
25. Eastern Orthodox (29%)
26. Roman Catholic (29%)
27. Seventh Day Adventist (28%)
.
1638 Fireplaces I Have Known
In the previous post, it sounds like we watched movies in a fireplace.
That reminded me of a guy I knew in Washington Mensa, in the early '80s. He liked me, and at a party one evening he was trying to talk me into leaving with him and going to his apartment. "We can sit in front of a fire with a glass of wine and you can tell me about (whatever it was we'd been talking about, I forget)."
I had been to a party at his place a few weeks previously, and I frowned and said, "Your apartment doesn't have a fireplace."
He responded, perfectly seriously, "No, but there's a corner of the dining room I'm not using."
We didn't get together that evening, but ... eventually. How could anyone resist that line? I was ready to laugh every time I saw him after that, and that always works, sooner or later.
.
That reminded me of a guy I knew in Washington Mensa, in the early '80s. He liked me, and at a party one evening he was trying to talk me into leaving with him and going to his apartment. "We can sit in front of a fire with a glass of wine and you can tell me about (whatever it was we'd been talking about, I forget)."
I had been to a party at his place a few weeks previously, and I frowned and said, "Your apartment doesn't have a fireplace."
He responded, perfectly seriously, "No, but there's a corner of the dining room I'm not using."
We didn't get together that evening, but ... eventually. How could anyone resist that line? I was ready to laugh every time I saw him after that, and that always works, sooner or later.
.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
1637 Relaxed
Sunday, January 13, 2008
I had a very nice weekend. DVD movies in front of a fire in a fireplace.
It didn't start out looking good at all. Thursday night, overnight, we had freezing rain, and I woke Friday to no electricity. Out here in the boonies, that means no phone, no heat, no water (comes from a well, you know). So no shower, no toilet. Yeah, you can get one flush from each john, and a little bit of water from the well holding tank, but if you actually try it, you get air in the pipes when the water runs out, and that's no good at all.
I wanted to leave here by 2:30 pm. I fiddled around for an hour hoping the power would come back on, but when it didn't, I started with stuff I could do. I selected clothing from the very dark closet, and packed, hoping that I remembered what color that top is, and those slacks.
Now what? I hated to open the refrigerator, but that was about all I could do next. So I put together meal ingredients and packed them.
Still no power. If it wasn't back on by 1 pm, I figured I'd just have to travel dirty, get to the hotel earlier than my friend, and shower and pretty up there. Considering that my hair was filthy and messy, a day past time-to-wash-it (I had let it go specifically so I could wash it that morning) I wasn't excited about that idea.
The electricity came back on exactly at 1. I cleaned and prettied me up, verified that the clothes I'd packed were the right ones, and then I gave the cats 2.5 days worth of dry food.
Jasper was going to have to be shut in the laundry room so he wouldn't terrorize Miss Thunderfoot for fun, and eat all her food.
How did he know that was my intent? He was lured into the laundry room with canned food, but when I moved the dangly toy out of the way so I could close the door - note that I hadn't even touched the door yet - he bolted past me, tore through the house, and hid under the bed. This time, with ALL his body under there. How did he know?
I was forced to leave with him still loose.
Gack.
Well, the rest of the weekend went much better. I'm in love again.
When I got home this afternoon, Miss Thunderfoot had some food left (although Jasper's was all gone), and Jasper is still suspicious. He won't come close enough to me that I can catch him (I don't want to catch him now, but he won't believe me), and although his food dishes in the laundry room have been refreshed, he won't go in there if I'm in that end of the house. I may have to tame him all over again. He's a smart little monster.
.
I had a very nice weekend. DVD movies in front of a fire in a fireplace.
It didn't start out looking good at all. Thursday night, overnight, we had freezing rain, and I woke Friday to no electricity. Out here in the boonies, that means no phone, no heat, no water (comes from a well, you know). So no shower, no toilet. Yeah, you can get one flush from each john, and a little bit of water from the well holding tank, but if you actually try it, you get air in the pipes when the water runs out, and that's no good at all.
I wanted to leave here by 2:30 pm. I fiddled around for an hour hoping the power would come back on, but when it didn't, I started with stuff I could do. I selected clothing from the very dark closet, and packed, hoping that I remembered what color that top is, and those slacks.
Now what? I hated to open the refrigerator, but that was about all I could do next. So I put together meal ingredients and packed them.
Still no power. If it wasn't back on by 1 pm, I figured I'd just have to travel dirty, get to the hotel earlier than my friend, and shower and pretty up there. Considering that my hair was filthy and messy, a day past time-to-wash-it (I had let it go specifically so I could wash it that morning) I wasn't excited about that idea.
The electricity came back on exactly at 1. I cleaned and prettied me up, verified that the clothes I'd packed were the right ones, and then I gave the cats 2.5 days worth of dry food.
Jasper was going to have to be shut in the laundry room so he wouldn't terrorize Miss Thunderfoot for fun, and eat all her food.
How did he know that was my intent? He was lured into the laundry room with canned food, but when I moved the dangly toy out of the way so I could close the door - note that I hadn't even touched the door yet - he bolted past me, tore through the house, and hid under the bed. This time, with ALL his body under there. How did he know?
I was forced to leave with him still loose.
Gack.
Well, the rest of the weekend went much better. I'm in love again.
When I got home this afternoon, Miss Thunderfoot had some food left (although Jasper's was all gone), and Jasper is still suspicious. He won't come close enough to me that I can catch him (I don't want to catch him now, but he won't believe me), and although his food dishes in the laundry room have been refreshed, he won't go in there if I'm in that end of the house. I may have to tame him all over again. He's a smart little monster.
.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
1636 Bleck
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Things are not going well today. I got me all washed and dressed to go to the store, and decided to take care of the litter box. It was pretty bad.
I use a pelleted pine sawdust kitty litter because it lasts a good long time (before it will suddenly get overwhelmed), and it's easy to dispose of. I can just dump it in the woods, which I can't do with the white stuff, or with clay.
So I picked up the (huge) pan, and carried it to the woods. In the dark.
I swung it out to spread the litter, and stepped in a hole, I guess. Off balance because of swinging the litter box, I fell - into the litter I'd dumped, and then I poured the rest of the litter over myself, filling my shoes and down inside the v-neck of my sweater.
Back to the shower, and the closet.
.
Things are not going well today. I got me all washed and dressed to go to the store, and decided to take care of the litter box. It was pretty bad.
I use a pelleted pine sawdust kitty litter because it lasts a good long time (before it will suddenly get overwhelmed), and it's easy to dispose of. I can just dump it in the woods, which I can't do with the white stuff, or with clay.
So I picked up the (huge) pan, and carried it to the woods. In the dark.
I swung it out to spread the litter, and stepped in a hole, I guess. Off balance because of swinging the litter box, I fell - into the litter I'd dumped, and then I poured the rest of the litter over myself, filling my shoes and down inside the v-neck of my sweater.
Back to the shower, and the closet.
.
1635 Four pounds!
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Lots to do today - some major grocery shopping, clean out the car, etc. I'm taking the weekend off to laze a bit and watch some movies, and do some cooking for a real live man - something I have carefully and successfully avoided (not the man part, the cooking part) for years now.
Late last week I bought two lunches from the chinese take-out, and except for a sandwich on the drive on Sunday and a buffet at D's mother's house on Monday, that's all I've been nibbling on for the past week. And yet, I've gained four pounds!
I don't understand.
Those four pounds are just enough that I can't zip my sexy new leather jacket. With the unseasonable warmth we've had lately, I was looking forward to wearing that (sexy, new, butter-soft, black, silk-lined, stand-up collar, still smells of leather) jacket this weekend. I'm very annoyed.
And you can imagine how sexy it is when four pounds makes a difference!
.
Lots to do today - some major grocery shopping, clean out the car, etc. I'm taking the weekend off to laze a bit and watch some movies, and do some cooking for a real live man - something I have carefully and successfully avoided (not the man part, the cooking part) for years now.
Late last week I bought two lunches from the chinese take-out, and except for a sandwich on the drive on Sunday and a buffet at D's mother's house on Monday, that's all I've been nibbling on for the past week. And yet, I've gained four pounds!
I don't understand.
Those four pounds are just enough that I can't zip my sexy new leather jacket. With the unseasonable warmth we've had lately, I was looking forward to wearing that (sexy, new, butter-soft, black, silk-lined, stand-up collar, still smells of leather) jacket this weekend. I'm very annoyed.
And you can imagine how sexy it is when four pounds makes a difference!
.
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
1634 Candidate Quiz
About what I figured.....
77% Hillary Clinton
77% Barack Obama
76% Chris Dodd
75% John Edwards
72% Joe Biden
65% Bill Richardson
63% Mike Gravel
61% Dennis Kucinich
53% Rudy Giuliani
43% Mitt Romney
40% John McCain
39% Tom Tancredo
31% Fred Thompson
29% Mike Huckabee
21% Ron Paul
2008 Presidential Candidate Matching Quiz
77% Hillary Clinton
77% Barack Obama
76% Chris Dodd
75% John Edwards
72% Joe Biden
65% Bill Richardson
63% Mike Gravel
61% Dennis Kucinich
53% Rudy Giuliani
43% Mitt Romney
40% John McCain
39% Tom Tancredo
31% Fred Thompson
29% Mike Huckabee
21% Ron Paul
2008 Presidential Candidate Matching Quiz
1633 Recommending a blog from Iraq
I have just discovered Michael J. Totten's Middle East Journal.
He's a journalist with marines in Iraq. He writes so well, so easy to read, draws you in. And he asks all the right questions, the ones *I* want to ask. Great photos.
Even if you don't plan to subscribe to the feeds, and don't have time to read everything written, you really should read the January 2 post, A Plan to Kill Everyone.
.
He's a journalist with marines in Iraq. He writes so well, so easy to read, draws you in. And he asks all the right questions, the ones *I* want to ask. Great photos.
Even if you don't plan to subscribe to the feeds, and don't have time to read everything written, you really should read the January 2 post, A Plan to Kill Everyone.
.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
1631 My friend's father
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
I need to write about my friend's father. I posted a photo several months ago, and I'll post it again, because I love it:
This photo was taken by D. when D.'s mother was visiting with D.'s father at the nursing home early in 2007. D.'s father (hereinafter "DF") had several serious medical problems, including an on-again off-again dementia. D.'s mother (hereinafter "DM") is frail.
DF died early New Year's Day. He'd been on life support for a few weeks.
I've known D. for twenty-five years. He was a college co-op in our department at The Company in the early 80s, for two summers. He's a real sweetheart. I attended his wedding, and we've kept in touch by snail mail and email since. I was aware that he came from a large family, and judging from how he turned out, it was a good family, but that's pretty much all I knew.
I went to DF's memorial service yesterday, and I was completely blown away by DF's story, and by D.'s family dynamics.
DF was born in North Carolina in 1922, the eldest of his father's six children, although there were three older siblings from his mother's earlier marriage. His father supported the family of nine children through farming, fishing, and making and selling wooden farming tools. When DF was 13, his father died suddenly of a heart attack, and DF left school to support the family, pursuing his father's crafts.
During his later teens, he moved north for better employment. By 18, he was driving an 18-wheeler for a chemical company in Baltimore, sending money home, and eventually found a job up north for a younger brother, too.
He met and married DM in 1945, was drafted, and served in the Navy through WWII as a petty officer and drill instructor. After the war, he worked as a barber, mortician, business owner, cab driver, cobbler, and craftsman, sometimes holding two and three jobs at once. He also obtained his high school diploma from a Baltimore high school, studying at night while supporting his family, which now consisted of three children and a fourth on the way.
In the early 1950s, the couple bought a home in northwest Baltimore, and DF enrolled at Morgan State, majoring in English and Humanities. He pledged to DM that all their children would go to college.
DF wanted five children. DM wanted four. They had nine. My friend D. and his twin sister are the youngest. By then, DF was employed by the US Postal Service, the career from which he retired. And during that employment, he usually held down a second full-time job.
All nine children did go to college. The nine of them have earned a total of more than twenty undergraduate and graduate degrees in fields including fine arts, music, psychology (two of D.'s brothers are psychologists), business, and computer science (D.).
The grandchildren are continuing the tradition.
Now, what makes all this most amazing is that DF accomplished so much in the 1940s to '60s, in Baltimore. Think about the social climate of the time. The barriers to be overcome.
He just went out there and DID it.
.
I need to write about my friend's father. I posted a photo several months ago, and I'll post it again, because I love it:
This photo was taken by D. when D.'s mother was visiting with D.'s father at the nursing home early in 2007. D.'s father (hereinafter "DF") had several serious medical problems, including an on-again off-again dementia. D.'s mother (hereinafter "DM") is frail.
DF died early New Year's Day. He'd been on life support for a few weeks.
I've known D. for twenty-five years. He was a college co-op in our department at The Company in the early 80s, for two summers. He's a real sweetheart. I attended his wedding, and we've kept in touch by snail mail and email since. I was aware that he came from a large family, and judging from how he turned out, it was a good family, but that's pretty much all I knew.
I went to DF's memorial service yesterday, and I was completely blown away by DF's story, and by D.'s family dynamics.
DF was born in North Carolina in 1922, the eldest of his father's six children, although there were three older siblings from his mother's earlier marriage. His father supported the family of nine children through farming, fishing, and making and selling wooden farming tools. When DF was 13, his father died suddenly of a heart attack, and DF left school to support the family, pursuing his father's crafts.
During his later teens, he moved north for better employment. By 18, he was driving an 18-wheeler for a chemical company in Baltimore, sending money home, and eventually found a job up north for a younger brother, too.
He met and married DM in 1945, was drafted, and served in the Navy through WWII as a petty officer and drill instructor. After the war, he worked as a barber, mortician, business owner, cab driver, cobbler, and craftsman, sometimes holding two and three jobs at once. He also obtained his high school diploma from a Baltimore high school, studying at night while supporting his family, which now consisted of three children and a fourth on the way.
In the early 1950s, the couple bought a home in northwest Baltimore, and DF enrolled at Morgan State, majoring in English and Humanities. He pledged to DM that all their children would go to college.
DF wanted five children. DM wanted four. They had nine. My friend D. and his twin sister are the youngest. By then, DF was employed by the US Postal Service, the career from which he retired. And during that employment, he usually held down a second full-time job.
All nine children did go to college. The nine of them have earned a total of more than twenty undergraduate and graduate degrees in fields including fine arts, music, psychology (two of D.'s brothers are psychologists), business, and computer science (D.).
The grandchildren are continuing the tradition.
Now, what makes all this most amazing is that DF accomplished so much in the 1940s to '60s, in Baltimore. Think about the social climate of the time. The barriers to be overcome.
He just went out there and DID it.
.
1630 Commitment papers
Wednesday, January 8, 2008
A thought on last night's radio discussion topic - young couples who don't bother to get married even when they have children like to say that they don't need a piece of paper to prove love or commitment.
My opinion is that they aren't defining proof of commitment correctly. Commitment isn't a "past" thing. Commitment has to do with the future. If you've been together for ten years without the paper, fine, that just means nothing went wrong for ten years. It doesn't mean you were commited. Perhaps you were not particularly commited, and just lazy. The piece of paper makes it more difficult to cut and run, and shows that you're sure enough to take that on, so the piece of paper shows commitment to a future, to making it work when things get rough.
.
A thought on last night's radio discussion topic - young couples who don't bother to get married even when they have children like to say that they don't need a piece of paper to prove love or commitment.
My opinion is that they aren't defining proof of commitment correctly. Commitment isn't a "past" thing. Commitment has to do with the future. If you've been together for ten years without the paper, fine, that just means nothing went wrong for ten years. It doesn't mean you were commited. Perhaps you were not particularly commited, and just lazy. The piece of paper makes it more difficult to cut and run, and shows that you're sure enough to take that on, so the piece of paper shows commitment to a future, to making it work when things get rough.
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1629 Civil litigation in NJ
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Driving home last night I was listening to a NJ talk radio station, and heard something startling.
They said that 95% of New Jersey businesses had been hit with civil suits within the past x years (I missed the number, but it was like 5). That it was fairly easy to win a civil suit in NJ, because of lenient judges who allow what amounts to nuisance cases, which actually draws people to sue. They went on to say that 25% of companies based in NJ were seriously considering moving out of the state as a direct result. Many of those who plan to stay in NJ plan to raise prices for their products and services to cover the cost of litigation.
Interesting.
The next item of news, and I'm not sure whether anyone at the radio station realized the irony, was that NJ judges were going to get a 10% raise in salary.
.
Driving home last night I was listening to a NJ talk radio station, and heard something startling.
They said that 95% of New Jersey businesses had been hit with civil suits within the past x years (I missed the number, but it was like 5). That it was fairly easy to win a civil suit in NJ, because of lenient judges who allow what amounts to nuisance cases, which actually draws people to sue. They went on to say that 25% of companies based in NJ were seriously considering moving out of the state as a direct result. Many of those who plan to stay in NJ plan to raise prices for their products and services to cover the cost of litigation.
Interesting.
The next item of news, and I'm not sure whether anyone at the radio station realized the irony, was that NJ judges were going to get a 10% raise in salary.
.
1628 Election Observation
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
A religious fanatic with a lawnmower makes a good neighbor. A religious fanatic with an army makes a bad neighbor.
A religious fanatic with a lawnmower makes a good neighbor. A religious fanatic with an army makes a bad neighbor.
Monday, January 07, 2008
1627 Pansies in January!
Monday, January 07, 2008
There are pansies outside the hotel doors and in the flower bed across the parking lot. Purple pansies. In full bloom! In January!
I don't understand.
.
There are pansies outside the hotel doors and in the flower bed across the parking lot. Purple pansies. In full bloom! In January!
I don't understand.
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Sunday, January 06, 2008
1626 Things it's illegal to say
[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QEQOvyGbBtY&feature=related]
Hmmm. I just remembered, after posting this, that I'm just up the road a bit right now from those mysterious folks at Andrews AFB. The ones who have been visiting here. Right after every post. Hey, folks - note that it's not ME saying those bad things!
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1625 I'm in Ballimer...
Sunday, January 6, 2008
... as the natives say. Baltimore for the rest of us. The memorial service for the father of the friend I mentioned a few posts back is tomorrow. So I'm here. In a residence inn, with a full kitchen, living room, bedroom and bathroom. I wouldn't mind turning my house over to the cats and clutter and living here. Although I'd probably clutter it up pretty quickly.
Google maps said it would take me five and a half hours to get here. I left home at 1 pm, and arrived at the hotel at 6:30, with two lazy relaxed stretch-the-legs rest stops. Including a sit-down dinner. Traffic was smooth, drive was easy.
Was even able to watch The Amazing Race.
.
... as the natives say. Baltimore for the rest of us. The memorial service for the father of the friend I mentioned a few posts back is tomorrow. So I'm here. In a residence inn, with a full kitchen, living room, bedroom and bathroom. I wouldn't mind turning my house over to the cats and clutter and living here. Although I'd probably clutter it up pretty quickly.
Google maps said it would take me five and a half hours to get here. I left home at 1 pm, and arrived at the hotel at 6:30, with two lazy relaxed stretch-the-legs rest stops. Including a sit-down dinner. Traffic was smooth, drive was easy.
Was even able to watch The Amazing Race.
.
Saturday, January 05, 2008
1624 Recognizing Faces
Saturday, January 5, 2008
I caught a piece of The Morning Show with Mike and Juliet yesterday morning, a segment on people who have difficulty recognizing faces (prosopagnosia, also called face blindness - go to the link for a description).
It interested me because I frequently don't recognize people out of context, or if they've changed their hair or some other aspect. I mostly recognize people I've known a while by how they move, or by their voices. It takes a long time, long exposure, for me to recognize them by face.
I see a lot of dancers in costume, and I'll recognize them again by their style of costume and how they dance, but I'm very confused when I see them out of costume. I don't know who they are. Same with many women I met in dance classes. I don't recognize them outside of class.
When I go to Mensa regional gatherings, I am often warmly greeted by people who seem to be complete strangers to me. I have no idea where or when we met. If they tell me, then I remember the conversation or activity and I can place them - but rarely just by appearance, unless their appearance is very unusual somehow.
(I've always known I have a serious problem with names. It may be not a problem with names, but a problem attaching the name to a face. Or maybe not. I've actually forgotten my daughter's name, and I GAVE it to her - so don't tell me it's just a lack of attention!)
I've always been amazed by police lineups. I can't understand how someone can look at a bunch of people, and pick out one with whom they had a brief run-in. I know I would never be able to do that. I might be able to say "Not number 1, and not number 4", but I would never be able to say definitely anyone else. Ditto for police sketches. I have occasionally thought about how I would describe someone I know well, and I don't think I could do it. I'm not sure I could pick out my own eyes or mouth from a book of eyes and mouths.
There have been times that I've been with a man I've been dating for a while, and he looks different somehow, maybe tired, maybe just an expression I hadn't seen before, and I have a flash of paranoia, "Is this the same guy? Could this be his twin brother?" I actually suddenly don't recognize him. Really. I'm not talking virtually. It's scary. [Later update - Wow! Turns out that's an actual condition, with a name! Capgras Syndrome.]
Well, anyway, that's why I stopped and watched the show.
Mike, the male host, seemed to have difficulty understanding the problem. He thought the guests didn't see faces at all, like they saw a blank where faces were, or the faces were blurred. Juliet, to her credit, finally figured out that he was hung up on the word "blindness", and told him to think of it as "face amnesia". That made more sense. It's not that you don't see the faces, it's that you don't remember them.
I went to the prosopagnosia web site, where they have some tests to see how well you recognize faces (at http://www.faceblind.org/facetests/index.php - they do want your name and email address, but I think they're safe).
Actually, I didn't do that badly on the face recognition tests. I thought I did VERY badly, because I mostly guessed, I swear I never saw any of those faces before, in fact when they were repeated in the first part I wasn't aware they were being repeated, but apparently most of my guesses were good. I scored in the 40%ile on all, which means that about 60% of the people taking the test did better than I. That puts me worse than average, but not a lot worse. (Except the "famous faces" section, where I scored at the 30%ile, which means 70% did better than I. I was pretty bad on that.)
I'm interested in how others do, and how it compares to how you expected to do. Leave a comment. Remember, if you select "anonymous", a password is not required.
.
I caught a piece of The Morning Show with Mike and Juliet yesterday morning, a segment on people who have difficulty recognizing faces (prosopagnosia, also called face blindness - go to the link for a description).
It interested me because I frequently don't recognize people out of context, or if they've changed their hair or some other aspect. I mostly recognize people I've known a while by how they move, or by their voices. It takes a long time, long exposure, for me to recognize them by face.
I see a lot of dancers in costume, and I'll recognize them again by their style of costume and how they dance, but I'm very confused when I see them out of costume. I don't know who they are. Same with many women I met in dance classes. I don't recognize them outside of class.
When I go to Mensa regional gatherings, I am often warmly greeted by people who seem to be complete strangers to me. I have no idea where or when we met. If they tell me, then I remember the conversation or activity and I can place them - but rarely just by appearance, unless their appearance is very unusual somehow.
(I've always known I have a serious problem with names. It may be not a problem with names, but a problem attaching the name to a face. Or maybe not. I've actually forgotten my daughter's name, and I GAVE it to her - so don't tell me it's just a lack of attention!)
I've always been amazed by police lineups. I can't understand how someone can look at a bunch of people, and pick out one with whom they had a brief run-in. I know I would never be able to do that. I might be able to say "Not number 1, and not number 4", but I would never be able to say definitely anyone else. Ditto for police sketches. I have occasionally thought about how I would describe someone I know well, and I don't think I could do it. I'm not sure I could pick out my own eyes or mouth from a book of eyes and mouths.
There have been times that I've been with a man I've been dating for a while, and he looks different somehow, maybe tired, maybe just an expression I hadn't seen before, and I have a flash of paranoia, "Is this the same guy? Could this be his twin brother?" I actually suddenly don't recognize him. Really. I'm not talking virtually. It's scary. [Later update - Wow! Turns out that's an actual condition, with a name! Capgras Syndrome.]
Well, anyway, that's why I stopped and watched the show.
Mike, the male host, seemed to have difficulty understanding the problem. He thought the guests didn't see faces at all, like they saw a blank where faces were, or the faces were blurred. Juliet, to her credit, finally figured out that he was hung up on the word "blindness", and told him to think of it as "face amnesia". That made more sense. It's not that you don't see the faces, it's that you don't remember them.
I went to the prosopagnosia web site, where they have some tests to see how well you recognize faces (at http://www.faceblind.org/facetests/index.php - they do want your name and email address, but I think they're safe).
Actually, I didn't do that badly on the face recognition tests. I thought I did VERY badly, because I mostly guessed, I swear I never saw any of those faces before, in fact when they were repeated in the first part I wasn't aware they were being repeated, but apparently most of my guesses were good. I scored in the 40%ile on all, which means that about 60% of the people taking the test did better than I. That puts me worse than average, but not a lot worse. (Except the "famous faces" section, where I scored at the 30%ile, which means 70% did better than I. I was pretty bad on that.)
I'm interested in how others do, and how it compares to how you expected to do. Leave a comment. Remember, if you select "anonymous", a password is not required.
.
1623 A Walk by the Bay
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Yesterday's visit with Daughter was nice. It was relatively warm out, so we walked along the Raritan (sp?) Bay shoreline. I was amazed at how pretty the ice was on the rocks, and the two kinds of dried grass, one fine and feathery, the other making sharp ribbon arcs, and how beautiful it all was when the sun was going down and it all turned gold and pink and blue.
We walked along a beach that I remarked looked perfect for picnics. I was surprised by the number of shells. Daughter said it's not unusual to find horseshoe crab shells, too. I want one. I asked Daughter if it's good swimming, and she gave me the fisheye, so I guess not. After all, that IS Manhattan you see over there across the water.
I was surprised that there was no snow in New Jersey. It disappeared halfway down the NYS Thruway. I guess that explains why I haven't been getting much sympathy for my driveway woes. They just don't understaaaaaaaaand!
A couple things I don't understand - what's with the new male hairstyle? The one where they comb the hair from both sides into a point, a ridge, on the top. It looks stupid, guys! It reminds me of a dinosaur. Or the way mommies comb a baby's hair.
And I've been seeing something weird on young women, too, where a palm-sized patch on the top front is teased into a pouf. The higher the better. It doesn't blend into the rest of the hair, it's separated from the sides and back, just sits there in an isolated bump above the forehead. Weird.
My mother's theory was that all high fashion is designed to be unattractive on purpose. "The most influential designers and stylists are all gay, and they're perpetrating an enormous joke on heteros. And the heteros eat it up. It's the funniest, longest-lasting, joke ever." You know, I almost buy it.
Another thing I don't understand - how are we fighting terrorism by creating it?
.
Yesterday's visit with Daughter was nice. It was relatively warm out, so we walked along the Raritan (sp?) Bay shoreline. I was amazed at how pretty the ice was on the rocks, and the two kinds of dried grass, one fine and feathery, the other making sharp ribbon arcs, and how beautiful it all was when the sun was going down and it all turned gold and pink and blue.
We walked along a beach that I remarked looked perfect for picnics. I was surprised by the number of shells. Daughter said it's not unusual to find horseshoe crab shells, too. I want one. I asked Daughter if it's good swimming, and she gave me the fisheye, so I guess not. After all, that IS Manhattan you see over there across the water.
I was surprised that there was no snow in New Jersey. It disappeared halfway down the NYS Thruway. I guess that explains why I haven't been getting much sympathy for my driveway woes. They just don't understaaaaaaaaand!
A couple things I don't understand - what's with the new male hairstyle? The one where they comb the hair from both sides into a point, a ridge, on the top. It looks stupid, guys! It reminds me of a dinosaur. Or the way mommies comb a baby's hair.
And I've been seeing something weird on young women, too, where a palm-sized patch on the top front is teased into a pouf. The higher the better. It doesn't blend into the rest of the hair, it's separated from the sides and back, just sits there in an isolated bump above the forehead. Weird.
My mother's theory was that all high fashion is designed to be unattractive on purpose. "The most influential designers and stylists are all gay, and they're perpetrating an enormous joke on heteros. And the heteros eat it up. It's the funniest, longest-lasting, joke ever." You know, I almost buy it.
Another thing I don't understand - how are we fighting terrorism by creating it?
.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
1622 Nothing
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Nothing day. Cold, almost zero out there. Nothing happening. My plants are dying because I'm not watering them. Ho hum.
Going to NJ to visit Daughter tomorrow.
.
Nothing day. Cold, almost zero out there. Nothing happening. My plants are dying because I'm not watering them. Ho hum.
Going to NJ to visit Daughter tomorrow.
.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
1621 It's got nowhere to go but up
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
My friends are not having a good start to 2008.
I was awakened this morning by a call from a dear friend who was fired this morning, no severance. Just bought a house.
Then I got an email from another close friend whose father had died yesterday morning. Not unexpected, but doesn't make it any easier.
A third friend had a project cancelled unexpectedly ten days before Christmas, and with no project, there's also no job and no paycheck. A new job has been found, but in the meantime, other things crashed and debts built up. Recovery will take a while.
Last week I had lunch with a friend who had just lost a major (as in multi-billion dollar) client, thereby reducing commissions, and therefore income, by more than half - AFTER the separation agreement, which had assumed a certain income level, had been approved by the court.
I'm afraid to go visit Jay's father.
I'm afraid NOT to go visit Jay's father.
.
My friends are not having a good start to 2008.
I was awakened this morning by a call from a dear friend who was fired this morning, no severance. Just bought a house.
Then I got an email from another close friend whose father had died yesterday morning. Not unexpected, but doesn't make it any easier.
A third friend had a project cancelled unexpectedly ten days before Christmas, and with no project, there's also no job and no paycheck. A new job has been found, but in the meantime, other things crashed and debts built up. Recovery will take a while.
Last week I had lunch with a friend who had just lost a major (as in multi-billion dollar) client, thereby reducing commissions, and therefore income, by more than half - AFTER the separation agreement, which had assumed a certain income level, had been approved by the court.
I'm afraid to go visit Jay's father.
I'm afraid NOT to go visit Jay's father.
.
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
1620 Happy New Year
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
More than four hours clearing snow yesterday. The other tire on the snowthrower went flat, but this time the compressor worked. Snow again overnight. Another 7 inches. This time it was light and fluffy, and easy to clear. Took only a few hours. More predicted tomorrow and Thursday.
This has been around the internet for a few years, but it's the first time I've seen it, and I like it:
May peace break into your house and may thieves come to steal your debts. May your pockets become a magnet for $100 bills. May love stick to your face like Vaseline and may laughter assault your lips! May your clothes smell of success like smoking tires. May happiness slap you across the face and may your tears be that of joy. May the problems you had forget your home address. And may 2008 be the best year of your life!
.
More than four hours clearing snow yesterday. The other tire on the snowthrower went flat, but this time the compressor worked. Snow again overnight. Another 7 inches. This time it was light and fluffy, and easy to clear. Took only a few hours. More predicted tomorrow and Thursday.
This has been around the internet for a few years, but it's the first time I've seen it, and I like it:
May peace break into your house and may thieves come to steal your debts. May your pockets become a magnet for $100 bills. May love stick to your face like Vaseline and may laughter assault your lips! May your clothes smell of success like smoking tires. May happiness slap you across the face and may your tears be that of joy. May the problems you had forget your home address. And may 2008 be the best year of your life!
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