Saturday, November 10, 2007
Daughter never exerienced the days before ATMs, when banks were open only from 10 'til 2, and if you didn't give up lunch to get to the bank, you didn't get your paycheck deposited, and you didn't get cash. Money took a lot of planning.
Remember when there were no cell phones, and you had to use a pay phone when you were out, and other people couldn't be contacted if they were away from their home or desk? Keeping in touch took a lot of planning and cooperation.
Remember when you had to use your telephone to get to the internet? And printers used continuous paper with sprocket holes on the sides? And there were no bar codes and clerks had to actually type the price of an item into the cash register?
I've been trying to imbed this video, http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1788161, and three out of three times now, putting it into a post has taken Internet Explorer down. Strange. Other people have imbedded it in Blogger posts, so it's something unique to me.
Anyway, it's funny. Go watch.
.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Friday, November 09, 2007
1540 How to Take a Test
Friday, November 9, 2007
It's about 4:40 am and I'm wide awake, because without thinking about it I drank a frappuccino at 11:30 pm, and because my nose was running so badly in bed. I'm beginning to think I may be allergic to something in my bedroom. Anyway, I'm going to be awake until the antihistamine I just took kicks in.
While staring at the ceiling, I was thinking about taking tests. I can take a multiple choice test on almost any topic and pass it. Not because I know the topic, but because I know tests. When people ask me "What's Mensa", I don't say it's a high IQ society - I say it's a social club for people who do well on multiple choice tests. And if you get to know a few Mensans, you'll find that is a more accurate description. Some of us are otherwise incredibly stupid.
One of the Mensa Yahoo groups has been passing around a 10-question "business in history" test (found at http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/21657377). Most of those taking it got 7 or 8 of the ten answers correct. The question that the most people got wrong was:
3. Because of its importance to the 19th century economy, what is the state animal of Connecticut?
a) Sperm Whale
b) Husky
c) Beaver
d) Clydesdale Horse
(You might want to take the test yourself before reading further.)
You don't have to know the answer to a question if you can figure it out. The key words here are "the 19th century economy" and "Connecticut". The husky might have been important in Alaska, maybe, but not to "the 19th century economy" in general. The horse would have gotten merely a shrug, and Clydesdale is much too specific anyway. That leaves us with the beaver and the whale. The beaver may have been pretty important in the early days of the colonies, but probably less so in the 19th century. To cap it off, what do we know about Connecticut? All those whaling villages. Ahah! That fits with the 19th century, too.
I can't imagine how anyone could miss this one, but most people did.
That reminded me of the mid-'70s, when IQ tests were heavily attacked as being culturally biased. Some woman, a teacher representing students from the inner city, was interviewed on a local news program attacking the school system's use of IQ tests to group students. She chose an example from a test to illustrate her claim that the tests were biased toward culturally-advantaged suburban kids. The example was very similar to this:
The opera The Axe of the Fireflies by Joseph Hill cannot be performed in a small theater because
a) it's too loud.
b) it's too popular.
c) it requires an enormous cast.
d) it's too long.
Her argument was that inner city kids are not exposed to opera, their parents don't take them to operas, and therefore they are unlikely to have any knowledge of this opera, they have no way of knowing if it's too loud or if it's popular or whatever, and therefore the question is culturally biased. And the other panelists and the reporter all pursed their lips and nodded in agreement.
I totally freaked. I was yelling at the TV. You don't have to know anything about opera to answer that question! In fact, there is no such opera! All it takes is the power to reason, which is exactly what the test is measuring. Simple reasoning (and the ability to pick out the important parts of the statement) will give you the correct answer.
(By the way , that's one of the things the dreaded fifth-grade math word problems teach - the ability to separate the important information from the extraneous. A very useful skill. You end up in your later years yelling "that's a load of bull poopy" at people on the telephone.)
.
It's about 4:40 am and I'm wide awake, because without thinking about it I drank a frappuccino at 11:30 pm, and because my nose was running so badly in bed. I'm beginning to think I may be allergic to something in my bedroom. Anyway, I'm going to be awake until the antihistamine I just took kicks in.
While staring at the ceiling, I was thinking about taking tests. I can take a multiple choice test on almost any topic and pass it. Not because I know the topic, but because I know tests. When people ask me "What's Mensa", I don't say it's a high IQ society - I say it's a social club for people who do well on multiple choice tests. And if you get to know a few Mensans, you'll find that is a more accurate description. Some of us are otherwise incredibly stupid.
One of the Mensa Yahoo groups has been passing around a 10-question "business in history" test (found at http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/21657377). Most of those taking it got 7 or 8 of the ten answers correct. The question that the most people got wrong was:
3. Because of its importance to the 19th century economy, what is the state animal of Connecticut?
a) Sperm Whale
b) Husky
c) Beaver
d) Clydesdale Horse
(You might want to take the test yourself before reading further.)
You don't have to know the answer to a question if you can figure it out. The key words here are "the 19th century economy" and "Connecticut". The husky might have been important in Alaska, maybe, but not to "the 19th century economy" in general. The horse would have gotten merely a shrug, and Clydesdale is much too specific anyway. That leaves us with the beaver and the whale. The beaver may have been pretty important in the early days of the colonies, but probably less so in the 19th century. To cap it off, what do we know about Connecticut? All those whaling villages. Ahah! That fits with the 19th century, too.
I can't imagine how anyone could miss this one, but most people did.
That reminded me of the mid-'70s, when IQ tests were heavily attacked as being culturally biased. Some woman, a teacher representing students from the inner city, was interviewed on a local news program attacking the school system's use of IQ tests to group students. She chose an example from a test to illustrate her claim that the tests were biased toward culturally-advantaged suburban kids. The example was very similar to this:
The opera The Axe of the Fireflies by Joseph Hill cannot be performed in a small theater because
a) it's too loud.
b) it's too popular.
c) it requires an enormous cast.
d) it's too long.
Her argument was that inner city kids are not exposed to opera, their parents don't take them to operas, and therefore they are unlikely to have any knowledge of this opera, they have no way of knowing if it's too loud or if it's popular or whatever, and therefore the question is culturally biased. And the other panelists and the reporter all pursed their lips and nodded in agreement.
I totally freaked. I was yelling at the TV. You don't have to know anything about opera to answer that question! In fact, there is no such opera! All it takes is the power to reason, which is exactly what the test is measuring. Simple reasoning (and the ability to pick out the important parts of the statement) will give you the correct answer.
(By the way , that's one of the things the dreaded fifth-grade math word problems teach - the ability to separate the important information from the extraneous. A very useful skill. You end up in your later years yelling "that's a load of bull poopy" at people on the telephone.)
.
1539 Warning - Adult Topic
Friday, November 9, 2007
I had mentioned that one of the presentations I had gone to at the Chicago Mensa gathering was "Foreskin Restoration for Fun and Profit".
The speaker was Ron Low, inventor of the TLC Tugger (warning - website has explicit photos). From the program notes: "Ron Low has been curious about what circumcised men might be missing ever since the issue was debated in the letters section of the Mensa Bulletin in the '80s. Flash forward 20 years; he has not only restored his own foreskin, he has helped over 8000 men undertake non-surgical restoration. In a lively and explicit audio-video format, Ron will tell you why men do it, [and] how it is accomplished...."
How could I not go? When my daughter was born, in Missouri in 1975 (back when we didn't know the sex of a baby until it was born), I caused a bit of a crisis in the hospital when I arrived in labor and told the doctors that if the baby was a boy, they were NOT to circumcise him. They said that of course he would be circumcised, ALL baby boys were circumcised, the state said they had to be* and that was that. I told them that if they circumcised MY baby boy against my explicit wishes, I'd sue their asses for mutilation and disfigurement. Luckily, Daughter was a girl, and the hospital lawyers relaxed.
I've always had an opinion on the topic.
The first half of the presentation was all about the physiology of the penis, especially as pertains to the nerves, the different types of nerves, where they are, what they respond to, and so on. Frankly, this was the part most interesting to me. Um, most useful. Gonna take that info into the lab and check it out.** Oh, yeah.
Circumcision actually removes or damages the most sensitive of the nerves, the J-shaped sensors at the joint between the foreskin and the glans. (They respond to being bent and straightened as the foreskin moves in normal sexual activity.) Then over time, the remaining nerves are desensitized by the now-exposed glans drying out and rubbing against clothing.
You'll never get the lost nerves back, but simply providing a natural covering for the glans can allow it to regain some sensitivity, and that's a reason to attempt to restore a semblance of the foreskin.
He showed a lot of photos of the results of various methods of restoration. Surgical restoration seems to be the ugliest. They kind of drag skin up from the scrotum, and you end up with, uh, no other way to say it, a hairy penis.
The non-surgical way is to stretch the skin over time.
He showed several methods for stretching, most involving tape and weights. His invention, the TLC Tugger, doesn't use tape or weights, and is supposedly easier to put on and remove. If you go to the website (link above), you can see how it works. There's a cap over the glans, then you pull some skin down and put another cap over it, and then hook all that to an elastic arrangement attached to your leg. Eventually the skin stretches.
It looks weird, but he says it's quite comfortable. I caused a bit of a sensation in the Q&A period when I asked, "What happens if you're wearing this thing, and you get an erection. Does the cap tiddly-wink across the room?"
When the laughter quieted down, he said that's another advantage of his cap over the systems that involve suspending weights. In those, if the cap pops off, it falls out of your pant leg, and it's a little difficult to ignore or explain. Because his is attached to the leg, it just falls and dangles inside the pant leg. And, his has an "emergency cord" you can reach from inside your pocket that will release tension when necessary.
So, that's what that was all about. Just your normal Mensa presentation.
-----------------------------------
Footnotes -
*The Missouri legislature, who was not, as far as I know, a medical body, also mandated that if an abdomen was opened for any reason whatsoever, the appendix was to be removed. This is the same crew who passed a law in response to Roe V. Wade that ok, abortions were allowed, but all abortions would be performed by hysterotomy (i.e. Cesarean section), not vaginally. That law didn't last long - the doctors rioted.
**The theories check out. The man knows whereof he speaks. He taught this old dog some new tricks. Oh yeah....
.
I had mentioned that one of the presentations I had gone to at the Chicago Mensa gathering was "Foreskin Restoration for Fun and Profit".
The speaker was Ron Low, inventor of the TLC Tugger (warning - website has explicit photos). From the program notes: "Ron Low has been curious about what circumcised men might be missing ever since the issue was debated in the letters section of the Mensa Bulletin in the '80s. Flash forward 20 years; he has not only restored his own foreskin, he has helped over 8000 men undertake non-surgical restoration. In a lively and explicit audio-video format, Ron will tell you why men do it, [and] how it is accomplished...."
How could I not go? When my daughter was born, in Missouri in 1975 (back when we didn't know the sex of a baby until it was born), I caused a bit of a crisis in the hospital when I arrived in labor and told the doctors that if the baby was a boy, they were NOT to circumcise him. They said that of course he would be circumcised, ALL baby boys were circumcised, the state said they had to be* and that was that. I told them that if they circumcised MY baby boy against my explicit wishes, I'd sue their asses for mutilation and disfigurement. Luckily, Daughter was a girl, and the hospital lawyers relaxed.
I've always had an opinion on the topic.
The first half of the presentation was all about the physiology of the penis, especially as pertains to the nerves, the different types of nerves, where they are, what they respond to, and so on. Frankly, this was the part most interesting to me. Um, most useful. Gonna take that info into the lab and check it out.** Oh, yeah.
Circumcision actually removes or damages the most sensitive of the nerves, the J-shaped sensors at the joint between the foreskin and the glans. (They respond to being bent and straightened as the foreskin moves in normal sexual activity.) Then over time, the remaining nerves are desensitized by the now-exposed glans drying out and rubbing against clothing.
You'll never get the lost nerves back, but simply providing a natural covering for the glans can allow it to regain some sensitivity, and that's a reason to attempt to restore a semblance of the foreskin.
He showed a lot of photos of the results of various methods of restoration. Surgical restoration seems to be the ugliest. They kind of drag skin up from the scrotum, and you end up with, uh, no other way to say it, a hairy penis.
The non-surgical way is to stretch the skin over time.
He showed several methods for stretching, most involving tape and weights. His invention, the TLC Tugger, doesn't use tape or weights, and is supposedly easier to put on and remove. If you go to the website (link above), you can see how it works. There's a cap over the glans, then you pull some skin down and put another cap over it, and then hook all that to an elastic arrangement attached to your leg. Eventually the skin stretches.
It looks weird, but he says it's quite comfortable. I caused a bit of a sensation in the Q&A period when I asked, "What happens if you're wearing this thing, and you get an erection. Does the cap tiddly-wink across the room?"
When the laughter quieted down, he said that's another advantage of his cap over the systems that involve suspending weights. In those, if the cap pops off, it falls out of your pant leg, and it's a little difficult to ignore or explain. Because his is attached to the leg, it just falls and dangles inside the pant leg. And, his has an "emergency cord" you can reach from inside your pocket that will release tension when necessary.
So, that's what that was all about. Just your normal Mensa presentation.
-----------------------------------
Footnotes -
*The Missouri legislature, who was not, as far as I know, a medical body, also mandated that if an abdomen was opened for any reason whatsoever, the appendix was to be removed. This is the same crew who passed a law in response to Roe V. Wade that ok, abortions were allowed, but all abortions would be performed by hysterotomy (i.e. Cesarean section), not vaginally. That law didn't last long - the doctors rioted.
**The theories check out. The man knows whereof he speaks. He taught this old dog some new tricks. Oh yeah....
.
Thursday, November 08, 2007
1538 More Credit Confusion
Thursday, November 8, 2007
I called the check verification place today, regarding the check that was refused yesterday, and got a load of blather about how their computer checks patterns, time, place, amount, etc., and that the transaction seemed to fit a pattern of fraud, blah blah, so the computer flagged it as likely fraudulent. She couldn’t tell me exactly what the computer concluded or why. She was able to tell me what checks I had written in the recent past that they had approved at several local stores.
Um, this check was written to a store where I had written checks before, the store is less than 10 miles from my home, the amount was rational - where's the "fraud indicators"? I used the phrase “that’s a load of bull poopy” several times in the conversation.
I wonder if it has anything to do with the fraudulent Master Card charges that I got the call about last Saturday. Is it possible there's a red flag on ALL my cards and checking accounts now, like that there's a possibility of identity theft?
I went to dinner this evening with Angela, Nate, John, Angie, and George, at a diner on route 300 in Newburgh (New Windsor). The conversation was good, the food was more expensive than it rated.
John is in his 60s, I guess, and has been attending the dinners for maybe four months now. I asked him when he might bring his wife along, and he was surprised that his wife would be welcome, seeing as she's not a member. When I assured him that not only would she be welcome, no one would even comment on it, he seemed very grateful. Later I realized I could have pointed out that Nate isn't a member, but my not pointing it out proves the point, I guess.
As we were leaving the restaurant, George, who is new and was at the last two dinners, commented that he wants me to sit next to him next time. Ick! I don't want to. He's older than I, and single, and rather boring. There be dragons.
Speaking of dragons, my friend in NJ is chest-deep in office dragons right now. We've talked by phone and email, but haven't been able to get together since last week. The next two weeks are business trips for him and family related trips for both of us, so barring a miracle, like a few extra days inserted into the calendar, I won't see him for a while.
Sadness. I'm developing a craving for him.
.
I called the check verification place today, regarding the check that was refused yesterday, and got a load of blather about how their computer checks patterns, time, place, amount, etc., and that the transaction seemed to fit a pattern of fraud, blah blah, so the computer flagged it as likely fraudulent. She couldn’t tell me exactly what the computer concluded or why. She was able to tell me what checks I had written in the recent past that they had approved at several local stores.
Um, this check was written to a store where I had written checks before, the store is less than 10 miles from my home, the amount was rational - where's the "fraud indicators"? I used the phrase “that’s a load of bull poopy” several times in the conversation.
I wonder if it has anything to do with the fraudulent Master Card charges that I got the call about last Saturday. Is it possible there's a red flag on ALL my cards and checking accounts now, like that there's a possibility of identity theft?
I went to dinner this evening with Angela, Nate, John, Angie, and George, at a diner on route 300 in Newburgh (New Windsor). The conversation was good, the food was more expensive than it rated.
John is in his 60s, I guess, and has been attending the dinners for maybe four months now. I asked him when he might bring his wife along, and he was surprised that his wife would be welcome, seeing as she's not a member. When I assured him that not only would she be welcome, no one would even comment on it, he seemed very grateful. Later I realized I could have pointed out that Nate isn't a member, but my not pointing it out proves the point, I guess.
As we were leaving the restaurant, George, who is new and was at the last two dinners, commented that he wants me to sit next to him next time. Ick! I don't want to. He's older than I, and single, and rather boring. There be dragons.
Speaking of dragons, my friend in NJ is chest-deep in office dragons right now. We've talked by phone and email, but haven't been able to get together since last week. The next two weeks are business trips for him and family related trips for both of us, so barring a miracle, like a few extra days inserted into the calendar, I won't see him for a while.
Sadness. I'm developing a craving for him.
.
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
1537 Check What?!
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
I'm so glad the local elections are over. I was getting five to eight phone calls a day for the past three weeks, with either taped candidate messages or people demanding that I tell them who I intend to vote for. When I talked to friends, they reported only two or three calls a day. About all I can figure is that I'm registered Independent, so both parties considered me a wild card.
I went to the bank to deposit some checks today, then went shopping for sewing supplies, cat food, and one of those little USB "thumb drive" thingies. Figured I'd try one, see if it might work to hold photographs and stuff.
I bought the USB thingy in Staples, and wrote a check, for less than $80. The checkout child gave her cash register a funny look, and called a manager. The manager looked at the register, and told the child to "make the call". She called someone, gave them all the info off my check, and then turned to me and said "Your check has been refused."
Huh?
She couldn't tell me exactly why, but then said, in front of all the other people lined up behind me, "It's usually because of too many bounced checks." I grabbed the manager who was about to leave, and said "Explain this, please. I've never bounced a check in my entire adult life, and besides, if I do, my bank will automatically go into my savings, and then into a signature line of credit, so it's next to impossible for a check to bounce anyway! This is ridiculous!"
He said they use a credit service to vet checks, and that the service will not tell them the reason, because of privacy issues. But I can call them and find out. He gave me a card with the phone number, and on the back of the card it gives three possible reasons:
1.) Bad history,
2.) They don't have enough information on this person to make a decision,
3.) The id offered was not verifiable.
The child never asked me for id. Whatcha wanna bet the check was refused because she didn't put in the driver's license number. Every time I wrote a check in Staples in the past, they asked for the license.
I'll call the credit service tomorrow and find out.
.
I'm so glad the local elections are over. I was getting five to eight phone calls a day for the past three weeks, with either taped candidate messages or people demanding that I tell them who I intend to vote for. When I talked to friends, they reported only two or three calls a day. About all I can figure is that I'm registered Independent, so both parties considered me a wild card.
I went to the bank to deposit some checks today, then went shopping for sewing supplies, cat food, and one of those little USB "thumb drive" thingies. Figured I'd try one, see if it might work to hold photographs and stuff.
I bought the USB thingy in Staples, and wrote a check, for less than $80. The checkout child gave her cash register a funny look, and called a manager. The manager looked at the register, and told the child to "make the call". She called someone, gave them all the info off my check, and then turned to me and said "Your check has been refused."
Huh?
She couldn't tell me exactly why, but then said, in front of all the other people lined up behind me, "It's usually because of too many bounced checks." I grabbed the manager who was about to leave, and said "Explain this, please. I've never bounced a check in my entire adult life, and besides, if I do, my bank will automatically go into my savings, and then into a signature line of credit, so it's next to impossible for a check to bounce anyway! This is ridiculous!"
He said they use a credit service to vet checks, and that the service will not tell them the reason, because of privacy issues. But I can call them and find out. He gave me a card with the phone number, and on the back of the card it gives three possible reasons:
1.) Bad history,
2.) They don't have enough information on this person to make a decision,
3.) The id offered was not verifiable.
The child never asked me for id. Whatcha wanna bet the check was refused because she didn't put in the driver's license number. Every time I wrote a check in Staples in the past, they asked for the license.
I'll call the credit service tomorrow and find out.
.
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
1536 I Don't Love You Anymore
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
[Apologies for using "they", plural, instead of "he or she", singular. Just trading one awkward construction for another slightly less awkward.]
I didn't change the channel after the noon news, so a soap opera was on. I don't watch soap operas, so I don't know which one this is, but it's the one with Greely, or Greenlee, or whatever her name is, and I overheard a woman on the show say to a man, "I don't love you anymore."
I've never understood that statement. If it's the same person, and you "don't love anymore", then it couldn't have been love in the first place.
I figure that if you get to see deeply enough into another person to love them (a romantic interest, a family member, a friend), then you love them forever. Love isn't a momentary or conditional thing. As long as what you saw and loved exists, then how can you not love that part? They may do something that distresses or hurts you, but if you know the person well enough to love them, the basic them, then you can understand and forgive, and keep on loving.
Of course, there's the case where you never really knew the person at all, and what you loved was a construct, a facade, and when you find the real person they're entirely different.
I suspect that sometimes people confuse "want" and "love". They want someone, want them in their life, and think that therefore they love them, so then when they don't want anymore, they think they don't love anymore.
Or maybe they do love someone, but when they figure out that they really aren't good for each other, or that they can't possibly live together or be too involved in each other's lives (and that happens a LOT), when they don't "want" them anymore, then they can't love them, either.
Well, you can. You should. You need to keep the good, and continue to love it, if perhaps from a distance.
I know someone who is having a problem with that now. Her father has been ill a lot lately, and it has affected his mind and personality, and not in a good way. He'd always been difficult to know, difficult to deal with, and now he's become more self-centered, annoying, and frustrating than ever. She is afraid she's losing charitable feeling toward him. She gets angry with him, and would like to just walk away, and then she gets angrier because he's causing her to feel this way.
I was very lucky with Jay. Even with half his brain gone, delusions and hallucinations, unreasonable demands and frustrating stubbornness, the core of him remained him, all the himness that I loved, and it was easy to continue to love him.
I don't know what to tell my friend.
.
[Apologies for using "they", plural, instead of "he or she", singular. Just trading one awkward construction for another slightly less awkward.]
I didn't change the channel after the noon news, so a soap opera was on. I don't watch soap operas, so I don't know which one this is, but it's the one with Greely, or Greenlee, or whatever her name is, and I overheard a woman on the show say to a man, "I don't love you anymore."
I've never understood that statement. If it's the same person, and you "don't love anymore", then it couldn't have been love in the first place.
I figure that if you get to see deeply enough into another person to love them (a romantic interest, a family member, a friend), then you love them forever. Love isn't a momentary or conditional thing. As long as what you saw and loved exists, then how can you not love that part? They may do something that distresses or hurts you, but if you know the person well enough to love them, the basic them, then you can understand and forgive, and keep on loving.
Of course, there's the case where you never really knew the person at all, and what you loved was a construct, a facade, and when you find the real person they're entirely different.
I suspect that sometimes people confuse "want" and "love". They want someone, want them in their life, and think that therefore they love them, so then when they don't want anymore, they think they don't love anymore.
Or maybe they do love someone, but when they figure out that they really aren't good for each other, or that they can't possibly live together or be too involved in each other's lives (and that happens a LOT), when they don't "want" them anymore, then they can't love them, either.
Well, you can. You should. You need to keep the good, and continue to love it, if perhaps from a distance.
I know someone who is having a problem with that now. Her father has been ill a lot lately, and it has affected his mind and personality, and not in a good way. He'd always been difficult to know, difficult to deal with, and now he's become more self-centered, annoying, and frustrating than ever. She is afraid she's losing charitable feeling toward him. She gets angry with him, and would like to just walk away, and then she gets angrier because he's causing her to feel this way.
I was very lucky with Jay. Even with half his brain gone, delusions and hallucinations, unreasonable demands and frustrating stubbornness, the core of him remained him, all the himness that I loved, and it was easy to continue to love him.
I don't know what to tell my friend.
.
Monday, November 05, 2007
1535 Art Lesson
Monday, November 5, 2007
Warning, some people might think the following video is naughty, so I guess I should warn you. Adults only. And keep your mind out of the gutter! But it really is pretty good.
[http://www.buzzhumor.com/videos/17774/Offensive_Drawings#]
Warning, some people might think the following video is naughty, so I guess I should warn you. Adults only. And keep your mind out of the gutter! But it really is pretty good.
[http://www.buzzhumor.com/videos/17774/Offensive_Drawings#]
Sunday, November 04, 2007
1534 Small Town Life
Sunday, November 4, 2007
I often refer to "the village". A little lesson in NY government: The state is divided into counties, and the county government maintains county roads, libraries, community colleges, and so on. Counties are divided into townships. A township (or just "town", like the Town of Poughkeepsie) maintains town roads, courts, garbage collection, fire departments, a smattering of other things. Towns have no connection to residential or business concentrations. Municipalities are hamlets, villages, or cities, depending on population, and maintain their own streets and services. Hamlets are often too small to bother with a government, and contract with the town for services. So in NY, it is not correct to use "town" to refer to a small city. It's either a city or a village. Town" can include farmland and woods.
I live in a town, outside "the village". There's only one village, and perhaps three hamlets in my township.
And this is how comfortable, yet strange, villages and towns can be: It's normal to leave your house to go to the deli or post office or bank, and leave the house unlocked. A few weeks ago, over the period of two or three weeks, there were 15 burglaries in the village and outside in the town. The town sheriff says they've caught the culprit, and the burglaries have stopped.
Ok, taken care of, right?
Nope. Here's where small town thinking kicks in. Local elections are coming up in a few days, and there's a campaign on to vote out the incumbent town board, regardless of party affiliation (more radical elements want to impeach them all), because they didn't send out an automated phone call to everyone in the town, telling them to lock their doors when they left their houses.
Duh?
The thinking is that it's an issue of incompetence and poor judgement in the face of a threat. "How will they handle a real emergency?"
Uh, this wasn't a real emergency.
.
I often refer to "the village". A little lesson in NY government: The state is divided into counties, and the county government maintains county roads, libraries, community colleges, and so on. Counties are divided into townships. A township (or just "town", like the Town of Poughkeepsie) maintains town roads, courts, garbage collection, fire departments, a smattering of other things. Towns have no connection to residential or business concentrations. Municipalities are hamlets, villages, or cities, depending on population, and maintain their own streets and services. Hamlets are often too small to bother with a government, and contract with the town for services. So in NY, it is not correct to use "town" to refer to a small city. It's either a city or a village. Town" can include farmland and woods.
I live in a town, outside "the village". There's only one village, and perhaps three hamlets in my township.
And this is how comfortable, yet strange, villages and towns can be: It's normal to leave your house to go to the deli or post office or bank, and leave the house unlocked. A few weeks ago, over the period of two or three weeks, there were 15 burglaries in the village and outside in the town. The town sheriff says they've caught the culprit, and the burglaries have stopped.
Ok, taken care of, right?
Nope. Here's where small town thinking kicks in. Local elections are coming up in a few days, and there's a campaign on to vote out the incumbent town board, regardless of party affiliation (more radical elements want to impeach them all), because they didn't send out an automated phone call to everyone in the town, telling them to lock their doors when they left their houses.
Duh?
The thinking is that it's an issue of incompetence and poor judgement in the face of a threat. "How will they handle a real emergency?"
Uh, this wasn't a real emergency.
.
Saturday, November 03, 2007
1533 My Big Saturday Night Out
Sunday, November 4, 2007
I got all cleaned up, dressed up, and made up, and went to the auction last night. Trouble is, it's not until next Saturday. I had received the email notice on Tuesday that the online catalog was available, and George never gets the catalog ready until a few days before the auction, so I assumed that meant it was this Saturday. Oh, well.
Just so I wouldn't waste all this pulchritudinosity, I went shopping. I am now the proud owner of two new blouses and three reams of paper. Not purchased in the same store.
.
I got all cleaned up, dressed up, and made up, and went to the auction last night. Trouble is, it's not until next Saturday. I had received the email notice on Tuesday that the online catalog was available, and George never gets the catalog ready until a few days before the auction, so I assumed that meant it was this Saturday. Oh, well.
Just so I wouldn't waste all this pulchritudinosity, I went shopping. I am now the proud owner of two new blouses and three reams of paper. Not purchased in the same store.
.
1532 Credit, Gutters
Saturday, November 3, 2007
I got a call this morning. I have a Mastercard, joint with Jay, that I have used only once in the past three years - a $25 charge at Macy's in Poughkeepsie last April (two knit tops). There's been a slew of charges over the past week, in England, so the Mastercard fraud department called me.
I don't have the faintest idea how anyone could have gotten the number. I have never used it online, seldom use it anywhere else, and have all the cards in my possession. Mastercard will void the charges.
Although when I answered the phone they asked for ME by name, since Jay is the primary on the card, they wanted to speak to him, too. "Uh, that might be a bit difficult." They're being very nice about it. They're going to reissue the account in my name only.
This is the first time I've had a credit card number stolen, and I'm pleased that it worked out so well. Daughter went to Mexico a few years ago, and afterward there were thousands of dollars charged on her card from multiple places, and it was a mess.
Then I got another call, from Butchie. Yeah, a 40-something-year-old man who refers to himself as Butchie. He cleans my house gutters every fall, and he called to ask when I thought they'd be ready to clean. Usually, it's the first week in November, but last year and this year, my trees are all still fully leaved. No point doing it until all the leaves have fallen, and given that most of my trees are still green, I don't know when that will be. We might even have snow first. (Which reminds me - gotta get the snowthrower serviced.)
There's an antiques auction tonight. I think I'll go to it.
.
I got a call this morning. I have a Mastercard, joint with Jay, that I have used only once in the past three years - a $25 charge at Macy's in Poughkeepsie last April (two knit tops). There's been a slew of charges over the past week, in England, so the Mastercard fraud department called me.
I don't have the faintest idea how anyone could have gotten the number. I have never used it online, seldom use it anywhere else, and have all the cards in my possession. Mastercard will void the charges.
Although when I answered the phone they asked for ME by name, since Jay is the primary on the card, they wanted to speak to him, too. "Uh, that might be a bit difficult." They're being very nice about it. They're going to reissue the account in my name only.
This is the first time I've had a credit card number stolen, and I'm pleased that it worked out so well. Daughter went to Mexico a few years ago, and afterward there were thousands of dollars charged on her card from multiple places, and it was a mess.
Then I got another call, from Butchie. Yeah, a 40-something-year-old man who refers to himself as Butchie. He cleans my house gutters every fall, and he called to ask when I thought they'd be ready to clean. Usually, it's the first week in November, but last year and this year, my trees are all still fully leaved. No point doing it until all the leaves have fallen, and given that most of my trees are still green, I don't know when that will be. We might even have snow first. (Which reminds me - gotta get the snowthrower serviced.)
There's an antiques auction tonight. I think I'll go to it.
.
Friday, November 02, 2007
1531 Friday
Friday, November 2, 2007
Date last night. Deep sigh. He's making efforts to please me. He pleases me.
Lunch today with Piper and Vincent.
Nothing else going on.
.
Date last night. Deep sigh. He's making efforts to please me. He pleases me.
Lunch today with Piper and Vincent.
Nothing else going on.
.
Thursday, November 01, 2007
1530 Carnelli
Thursday, November 1, 2007
I promised to explain Carnelli, the game I sat in on at the gathering in Chicago. Way back in the late '70s and early '80s I was a member of Washington Metropolitan Mensa (WMW), where the game was invented, and I knew the folks who invented it. I've seen the game played as it was MEANT to be played.
What I saw in Chicago was a watered-down ghost (Ahah! I've got my costume for next year. I'll go as a mixed metaphore!) of the real Carnelli. They allowed only straight word connections. Each player had to use a word from the previous title. That was the only link allowed. What a disappointment. I'm beginning to think that the dumbing-down of America is spreading even into Mensa.
Anyway, Jan and Jim's explanation of the real game is better than anything I could offer. See http://www.mwm.org/carnelli.html. [Link is broken. See edit below.] Please do go look. Print it off. Play it sometime. Even two can play. Heck, even ONE can play! (For a game of solitaire, try writing an interesting chain, like the example at the bottom of the page. Note that the example is a circle - the last title links to the first.)
It's better than Charades, honest.
Much later (02/01/2016) edit: The MWM (Washington Metropolitan Mensa) link above is kaput. Washington Mensa in general seems to have gone downhill. However, Carnelli is now on Wikipedia, and it's pretty much the rules I remember, sick puns and all. New link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carnelli
.
I promised to explain Carnelli, the game I sat in on at the gathering in Chicago. Way back in the late '70s and early '80s I was a member of Washington Metropolitan Mensa (WMW), where the game was invented, and I knew the folks who invented it. I've seen the game played as it was MEANT to be played.
What I saw in Chicago was a watered-down ghost (Ahah! I've got my costume for next year. I'll go as a mixed metaphore!) of the real Carnelli. They allowed only straight word connections. Each player had to use a word from the previous title. That was the only link allowed. What a disappointment. I'm beginning to think that the dumbing-down of America is spreading even into Mensa.
Anyway, Jan and Jim's explanation of the real game is better than anything I could offer. See http://www.mwm.org/carnelli.html. [Link is broken. See edit below.] Please do go look. Print it off. Play it sometime. Even two can play. Heck, even ONE can play! (For a game of solitaire, try writing an interesting chain, like the example at the bottom of the page. Note that the example is a circle - the last title links to the first.)
It's better than Charades, honest.
Much later (02/01/2016) edit: The MWM (Washington Metropolitan Mensa) link above is kaput. Washington Mensa in general seems to have gone downhill. However, Carnelli is now on Wikipedia, and it's pretty much the rules I remember, sick puns and all. New link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carnelli
.
1529 Deficit - Literally Astronomical?
From Quotes of the Day.
Richard Feynman : "There are 10^11 stars in the galaxy. That used to be a huge number. But it's only a hundred billion. It's less than the national deficit! We used to call them astronomical numbers. Now we should call them economical numbers."
.
Richard Feynman : "There are 10^11 stars in the galaxy. That used to be a huge number. But it's only a hundred billion. It's less than the national deficit! We used to call them astronomical numbers. Now we should call them economical numbers."
.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
1528 Couple's Costume
Someone in one of the online Mensa groups was asking for ideas for a couple's costume for next year's gathering. A response:
"One of the funniest couples costumes I've seen was two people who weren't together but paired at the costume contest about 10 years ago. It was the hairy godmother (with beard) and the fairy godfather (with a pink tutu, tights, and a violin case)."
.
"One of the funniest couples costumes I've seen was two people who weren't together but paired at the costume contest about 10 years ago. It was the hairy godmother (with beard) and the fairy godfather (with a pink tutu, tights, and a violin case)."
.
1527 Interesting...
What was -
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ni70-8U8PNo
What we have made of it -
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w0r2xpGT4fQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ni70-8U8PNo
What we have made of it -
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w0r2xpGT4fQ
1526 Rocket Science
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
I received this email from a friend this morning. As he said, you can't make this stuff up. I have his permission to share it:
---------------------------------
Yesterday I had the most insane conversation I've had in a long time. A couple of days ago I was putting my laptop bag in the passenger seat and yanked on the Sirius radio unit. It hasn't worked correctly since. I called the shop that installed it, and told them that I already have a Starmate Replay (from when I had my 2nd car) and I wanted to have that one installed into my car, replacing the Sportster that is in it now.
Oh my Gawd! I got three people. The first was a saleman who told me 'we don't sell those anymore, so you couldn't have gotten it here'. What? I guess if every purchase ever made there takes place at the instant the call is made, or at some point in the future, that would make sense. I didn't let that go. I said 'I have a Vikings Starter jacket also. They don't make those anymore.' His immediate response; 'we don't sell jackets here'.
I paused to check my watch. Yep, still the 21st century, and I was obviously sober. I forged ahead.
I asked to speak to someone in installation. I got a perky girl with a voice that made Minnie Mouse sound like Paul Robeson. I recapped the story and she asked 'when did you want to come in ?'. I said, 'today if possible'. She put me on hold and came back 12 minutes later. The next thing I heard was the same voice saying 'thank you for calling Best Buy, how may I help you?'. I told her I just spoke to her and what I'd asked. She said, 'I don't think that you spoke to me'. On the off chance that the good Lord punished two people with that voice, I asked if there was another woman there in that department. She said 'no, just me', then added 'was this about your car radio?'
Hmm. A moment to regroup. I checked behind me to see if Rod Serling was waiting to give a brief monologue. He wasn't.
'Yes, oddly enough it is!', I said. 'I guess working at the car stereo installation department of a huge chain store you don't get many queries about stuff like that, do you? I wanted to be the first.' Silk, it didn't even graze her bangs. Every word went completely over her head. She said, quite seriously, 'no, a lot of people call about that', and added 'almost all'. The next thing she said made me wince. 'What kind of radio are you looking for to buy?' No idea why, but what I saw in my mind was 'what kind of radio are you looking 4-2-bye?', then 'for tube eye', then finally 'for 2 buy'. None made sense, so I said 'excuse me'. She repeated it verbatim!!!
I needed a cigarette here I put her on hold, said a few things in Spanish, ate some pizza, and returned to the call.
'I need a manager.' was the next thing I said to her, hoping it would be the last. 11 minutes later a man answered and said he was the store manager. I explained everything, in detail, and he apologized and asked if I wanted them to install it or to buy a kit and do it myself. Since I am more likely to grow breasts than to wire my car to a Sirius radio successfully, I told him I wanted them to do it. He transferred me back to installation, I got Minnie again, and she told me I could come in on Wednesday at anytime. The cost would be $309 including a one year activation fee. That was it. I'm already activated. I don't want to buy a radio. I only need someone to install the one I already have! I called another Best Buy. $86 from now I'll have the thing done.
My guess is National Testing Day on the 20th [Mensa's annual membership drive] would have been wasted on these folks. I don't know how they even find their way to work in the mornings!
.
I received this email from a friend this morning. As he said, you can't make this stuff up. I have his permission to share it:
---------------------------------
Yesterday I had the most insane conversation I've had in a long time. A couple of days ago I was putting my laptop bag in the passenger seat and yanked on the Sirius radio unit. It hasn't worked correctly since. I called the shop that installed it, and told them that I already have a Starmate Replay (from when I had my 2nd car) and I wanted to have that one installed into my car, replacing the Sportster that is in it now.
Oh my Gawd! I got three people. The first was a saleman who told me 'we don't sell those anymore, so you couldn't have gotten it here'. What? I guess if every purchase ever made there takes place at the instant the call is made, or at some point in the future, that would make sense. I didn't let that go. I said 'I have a Vikings Starter jacket also. They don't make those anymore.' His immediate response; 'we don't sell jackets here'.
I paused to check my watch. Yep, still the 21st century, and I was obviously sober. I forged ahead.
I asked to speak to someone in installation. I got a perky girl with a voice that made Minnie Mouse sound like Paul Robeson. I recapped the story and she asked 'when did you want to come in ?'. I said, 'today if possible'. She put me on hold and came back 12 minutes later. The next thing I heard was the same voice saying 'thank you for calling Best Buy, how may I help you?'. I told her I just spoke to her and what I'd asked. She said, 'I don't think that you spoke to me'. On the off chance that the good Lord punished two people with that voice, I asked if there was another woman there in that department. She said 'no, just me', then added 'was this about your car radio?'
Hmm. A moment to regroup. I checked behind me to see if Rod Serling was waiting to give a brief monologue. He wasn't.
'Yes, oddly enough it is!', I said. 'I guess working at the car stereo installation department of a huge chain store you don't get many queries about stuff like that, do you? I wanted to be the first.' Silk, it didn't even graze her bangs. Every word went completely over her head. She said, quite seriously, 'no, a lot of people call about that', and added 'almost all'. The next thing she said made me wince. 'What kind of radio are you looking for to buy?' No idea why, but what I saw in my mind was 'what kind of radio are you looking 4-2-bye?', then 'for tube eye', then finally 'for 2 buy'. None made sense, so I said 'excuse me'. She repeated it verbatim!!!
I needed a cigarette here I put her on hold, said a few things in Spanish, ate some pizza, and returned to the call.
'I need a manager.' was the next thing I said to her, hoping it would be the last. 11 minutes later a man answered and said he was the store manager. I explained everything, in detail, and he apologized and asked if I wanted them to install it or to buy a kit and do it myself. Since I am more likely to grow breasts than to wire my car to a Sirius radio successfully, I told him I wanted them to do it. He transferred me back to installation, I got Minnie again, and she told me I could come in on Wednesday at anytime. The cost would be $309 including a one year activation fee. That was it. I'm already activated. I don't want to buy a radio. I only need someone to install the one I already have! I called another Best Buy. $86 from now I'll have the thing done.
My guess is National Testing Day on the 20th [Mensa's annual membership drive] would have been wasted on these folks. I don't know how they even find their way to work in the mornings!
.
1525 A Merry Mensan Halloween
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
I'd promised to describe Friday night's costume contest at the gathering.
A merely good costume doesn't make it. It has to be a pun, or some kind of "in joke".
There were more than a hundred people in the contest. Mensans take contests seriously, especially those that involve puns. They lined up, got up on the stage one by one, and either challenged the audience to guess, or explained the pun. Then they visited the judges' table, and bribed them. Bribes are encouraged. The whole process took a long time, but it was never boring.
The costumes I remember (not necessarily the best, and in no particular order):
1. A monk in chains with a number on his back.
2. A sheep with four large bite holes in its body.
3. A man in a t-shirt covering conical protrusions all over him.
4. A woman in a Renaissance serving girl costume, with brown furry ears and a long tail.
5. A man in black hat, side curls, tassels dangling under his shirt, wearing a Nationals team sweatshirt.
6. A group of four, in green makeup and falling-down pants, who rapped threats at the audience.
7. A man in a donkey costume with a happy dog face, with lolling tongue.
8. A cat delivering paper messages.
Take a guess as to what they represented. I'll put the answers in the comments later, so check back.
There were a lot of good ones before I realized I should take notes, so these are not necessarily the best, just the ones that made it to my notes. Some I can't figure out. I wonder what the "Leaf Blower" looked like? Don't remember. I do remember a pirate with dollar bills stuck to his ears, and when I heard what he was I thought "Hey, that's pretty good!", but now I don't remember what the pun was.
Ahah! I just remembered! He was a buccaneer!
---------------------------------
Next day - Ok, having been prodded by an impatient Queen, I have provided the answers in the comments. Don't look until you've tried guessing, though.
.
I'd promised to describe Friday night's costume contest at the gathering.
A merely good costume doesn't make it. It has to be a pun, or some kind of "in joke".
There were more than a hundred people in the contest. Mensans take contests seriously, especially those that involve puns. They lined up, got up on the stage one by one, and either challenged the audience to guess, or explained the pun. Then they visited the judges' table, and bribed them. Bribes are encouraged. The whole process took a long time, but it was never boring.
The costumes I remember (not necessarily the best, and in no particular order):
1. A monk in chains with a number on his back.
2. A sheep with four large bite holes in its body.
3. A man in a t-shirt covering conical protrusions all over him.
4. A woman in a Renaissance serving girl costume, with brown furry ears and a long tail.
5. A man in black hat, side curls, tassels dangling under his shirt, wearing a Nationals team sweatshirt.
6. A group of four, in green makeup and falling-down pants, who rapped threats at the audience.
7. A man in a donkey costume with a happy dog face, with lolling tongue.
8. A cat delivering paper messages.
Take a guess as to what they represented. I'll put the answers in the comments later, so check back.
There were a lot of good ones before I realized I should take notes, so these are not necessarily the best, just the ones that made it to my notes. Some I can't figure out. I wonder what the "Leaf Blower" looked like? Don't remember. I do remember a pirate with dollar bills stuck to his ears, and when I heard what he was I thought "Hey, that's pretty good!", but now I don't remember what the pun was.
Ahah! I just remembered! He was a buccaneer!
---------------------------------
Next day - Ok, having been prodded by an impatient Queen, I have provided the answers in the comments. Don't look until you've tried guessing, though.
.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
1524 Mighty Hunter Jasper
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
I was sitting at the gate at O'Hare, 10 minutes before the plane was supposed to start loading, when I realized I was about to leave Chicago, and I hadn't had pizza! Pizza is not one of my favorite things, except in Chicago. Chicago pizza is like no other pizza. I ran and bought a small plain one, and it was wonderful. It had a "butter crust", and crisp cheese. I was the last person to board the plane.
I about froze at the Albany airport. It had been balmy when I left for Chicago, so I had taken only some lined blazers, and a sweater shawl for just in case. I should have known better. When I stepped out of the terminal into the Albany night, it was a mere two degrees above freezing. I dug a blazer and the shawl out, but had nothing for my hands, and I had to drag two bags, so I couldn't like put my hands in pockets or whatever. Naturally, my car was at the far end of the far extension to the long term lot. No shuttle. By the time I got to Suzie my fingers were numb. Suzie's a good little car. She heated up very quickly.
I pulled into my driveway at exactly midnight. Miss Thunderfoot welcomed me home and tried to sleep on my face.
I picked up Jasper at the vet's this afternoon. They said he's quite the lover. They also said he had tapeworm, so they'd wormed him. He had tapeworms when I first caught him, so I wondered if the first worming hadn't killed them all. The nurse said that he probably caught and ate a small beasty. (Fleas will do it too, but he hasn't had fleas.) I didn't see where he could have got a beasty, since he hasn't been out.
Well, a few minutes ago, he presented me with a mouse (semi-alive, I carried it to the front door by the tail). That explains the sounds I've been hearing in the attic at night. I'd been hoping it was bison. Or ghosts. I haven't had mice in the house for about two years, since I discovered the hole in the garage where they were getting in, and blocked it with steel wool. I guess the steel wool has rusted out. I'll have to fix that tomorrow.
.
I was sitting at the gate at O'Hare, 10 minutes before the plane was supposed to start loading, when I realized I was about to leave Chicago, and I hadn't had pizza! Pizza is not one of my favorite things, except in Chicago. Chicago pizza is like no other pizza. I ran and bought a small plain one, and it was wonderful. It had a "butter crust", and crisp cheese. I was the last person to board the plane.
I about froze at the Albany airport. It had been balmy when I left for Chicago, so I had taken only some lined blazers, and a sweater shawl for just in case. I should have known better. When I stepped out of the terminal into the Albany night, it was a mere two degrees above freezing. I dug a blazer and the shawl out, but had nothing for my hands, and I had to drag two bags, so I couldn't like put my hands in pockets or whatever. Naturally, my car was at the far end of the far extension to the long term lot. No shuttle. By the time I got to Suzie my fingers were numb. Suzie's a good little car. She heated up very quickly.
I pulled into my driveway at exactly midnight. Miss Thunderfoot welcomed me home and tried to sleep on my face.
I picked up Jasper at the vet's this afternoon. They said he's quite the lover. They also said he had tapeworm, so they'd wormed him. He had tapeworms when I first caught him, so I wondered if the first worming hadn't killed them all. The nurse said that he probably caught and ate a small beasty. (Fleas will do it too, but he hasn't had fleas.) I didn't see where he could have got a beasty, since he hasn't been out.
Well, a few minutes ago, he presented me with a mouse (semi-alive, I carried it to the front door by the tail). That explains the sounds I've been hearing in the attic at night. I'd been hoping it was bison. Or ghosts. I haven't had mice in the house for about two years, since I discovered the hole in the garage where they were getting in, and blocked it with steel wool. I guess the steel wool has rusted out. I'll have to fix that tomorrow.
.
Monday, October 29, 2007
1523 Hacking Airwick
Monday, October 29, 2007
This is cool. You know those air fresheners that spritz every few seconds/minutes whether you need it or not, thereby running out of spritz and killing batteries in a very few weeks, necessitating frequent repurchase? See http://triggur.livejournal.com/297860.html for amusing instructions on how to correct that little problem.
I checked out of the hotel room at 11 am, and am now reading, writing, surfing, eating an apple, drinking iced tea in the hotel lobby until my taxi to O'Hare arrives at 3:45.
-----------------------------
Update 12/18/2010 - Triggur moved his blog. The above link no longer works, and his new blog doesn't seem to include old posts. Sorry
.
This is cool. You know those air fresheners that spritz every few seconds/minutes whether you need it or not, thereby running out of spritz and killing batteries in a very few weeks, necessitating frequent repurchase? See http://triggur.livejournal.com/297860.html for amusing instructions on how to correct that little problem.
I checked out of the hotel room at 11 am, and am now reading, writing, surfing, eating an apple, drinking iced tea in the hotel lobby until my taxi to O'Hare arrives at 3:45.
-----------------------------
Update 12/18/2010 - Triggur moved his blog. The above link no longer works, and his new blog doesn't seem to include old posts. Sorry
.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
1522 End of Gathering
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Well, yesterday was my 63rd birthday. I've been telling people to ignore it for the past three years because I want to be able to truthfully say, when asked my age, "I was 60 on my last birthday." People ignore my wishes and make birthday noises at me anyway. But I was watching a past episode of Pushing Daisies online this evening, and heard the voiceover describe someone as "44 years 18 months xx days yy hours" old, and I realized I could describe myself as 60 years and 36 months old - and everyone knows that past infancy it's silly to include the months. I've found my solution.
I made it downstairs in time for breakfast this morning, which included quiche, bacon, sausage, all kinds of melon and other fruits, five juices, boiled eggs, bagels, english muffins, sweet muffins, donuts, oatmeal, raw veggies, and the usual caffeines.
I was accosted across the buffet table by, um, The Sex God. He's gorgeous, piercing blue eyes, amazing body, long wavy hair, silky beard, wonderful smooth voice, and (unusual for this bunch) makes a lot of sense when he speaks. I heard someone say "Silk!" and I looked up and it was him. I about fell over. Every healthy female who'd ever attended one of his presentations is hopelessly in love with him. (Too bad I'm aware he believes in "open relationships". That's a deal breaker.) Until you hear him speak, he looks like just another sexy biker dude, what with all the leather and chains and high boots.
He wanted to compliment me on my style, my smile, the way I move, and the dress I'd been wearing the night before. I was flabbergasted, especially since I'd run down to breakfast with no makeup on - after all, who's gonna see me that matters, right? I blushed, laughed, and smiled, and he said "That's it! That's the smile!"
He invited me to join the party sub-group, "Hell's Ms", that he could tell that I was a partier (partyer?). I said no, I'm not a partier at all. He said that depends on how you define party. A party can be two people and a bottle of wine, or fifty people and conversation, and that the main difference between Hell's Ms and other Mensa party groups is that Hell's Ms remember the next morning what happened the night before. I said, oh, ok, that does sound like my kind of party. Then I smiled and walked away.
Well, I was very flattered. I think. I'm not sure. What's with that he "can tell I'm a partier" bit? Like, you wish, Buster! Well, maybe, IF my current romantic interest doesn't work out long term, maybe someday I'll look into Hell's Ms. I understand that they do a lot of volunteer work within Mensa, I might pick up some social skills, and the logo t-shirts are a status symbol. Maybe I'll have to go read their newsletter.
My head is a bit swelled today. Over the past three days, three other men told me I was beautiful, in a quite serious and personal manner, when I got up to leave after we'd been talking a while. I know I'm not beautiful, but it's nice to be told I'm appreciated however they go about expressing it. (Keep in mind these guys are mostly sex-starved geeks. Maybe they just appreciate a woman who flirts with them a little. (I've been told I flirt unconsciously all the time, with everyone. I don't agree. I guess that's the unconscious part. (Should that be subconscious?)))
Which reminds me - we had some folks set up at a table outside the big hospitality room interviewing candidates for Beauty and the Geek, and some past beauties and geeks in a conference room answering questions. (Giggle. After my flattering weekend, I wasn't sure which side I should apply for.)
Programs I attended today: free hospitality breakfast; Science vs Religion - The search for truth; Beauty and the Geek Q&A; Waltzing Australia; an hour by myself in the whirlpool, with a book. (What book, you ask? I'm a Mensan. It was a dictionary - Bryerson's Dictionary of Troublesome Words.)
Programs I did not attend: Non-denominational Worship Service; Presentation of Awards; Swing Dance Lesson; Exertion (talk on strange sports, stunts, and physical activities); Trust Me, I'm a Lawyer (I wanted to go to this, but it overlapped the science vs religion program, which was very good); Stitch & Bitch; Settlers of Catan Tournament; Proctor Training (how to certify to administer the Mensa IQ test); Everything's Digital - Amazing opportunities and some problems; the after-party, known as "The Survivor's Party".
It was all over by 3 pm. The word was passed that all uneaten food in the hospitality rooms would be discarded, so come and get it now. I loaded a plate with meats and cheeses and melon and three bean salad to have for dinner, and scarfed up all the cans of iced tea I could find. Picnic in my room.
Bedtime. Hard traveling tomorrow. Luggage heavier with books (and handout trash that I'll likely throw away as soon as I get home, but right now seems so very important to LIFE!) I haven't the faintest idea how one gets from here to the airport, whether taxis will even come here to take me. I'll figure it out, I guess.
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Well, yesterday was my 63rd birthday. I've been telling people to ignore it for the past three years because I want to be able to truthfully say, when asked my age, "I was 60 on my last birthday." People ignore my wishes and make birthday noises at me anyway. But I was watching a past episode of Pushing Daisies online this evening, and heard the voiceover describe someone as "44 years 18 months xx days yy hours" old, and I realized I could describe myself as 60 years and 36 months old - and everyone knows that past infancy it's silly to include the months. I've found my solution.
I made it downstairs in time for breakfast this morning, which included quiche, bacon, sausage, all kinds of melon and other fruits, five juices, boiled eggs, bagels, english muffins, sweet muffins, donuts, oatmeal, raw veggies, and the usual caffeines.
I was accosted across the buffet table by, um, The Sex God. He's gorgeous, piercing blue eyes, amazing body, long wavy hair, silky beard, wonderful smooth voice, and (unusual for this bunch) makes a lot of sense when he speaks. I heard someone say "Silk!" and I looked up and it was him. I about fell over. Every healthy female who'd ever attended one of his presentations is hopelessly in love with him. (Too bad I'm aware he believes in "open relationships". That's a deal breaker.) Until you hear him speak, he looks like just another sexy biker dude, what with all the leather and chains and high boots.
He wanted to compliment me on my style, my smile, the way I move, and the dress I'd been wearing the night before. I was flabbergasted, especially since I'd run down to breakfast with no makeup on - after all, who's gonna see me that matters, right? I blushed, laughed, and smiled, and he said "That's it! That's the smile!"
He invited me to join the party sub-group, "Hell's Ms", that he could tell that I was a partier (partyer?). I said no, I'm not a partier at all. He said that depends on how you define party. A party can be two people and a bottle of wine, or fifty people and conversation, and that the main difference between Hell's Ms and other Mensa party groups is that Hell's Ms remember the next morning what happened the night before. I said, oh, ok, that does sound like my kind of party. Then I smiled and walked away.
Well, I was very flattered. I think. I'm not sure. What's with that he "can tell I'm a partier" bit? Like, you wish, Buster! Well, maybe, IF my current romantic interest doesn't work out long term, maybe someday I'll look into Hell's Ms. I understand that they do a lot of volunteer work within Mensa, I might pick up some social skills, and the logo t-shirts are a status symbol. Maybe I'll have to go read their newsletter.
My head is a bit swelled today. Over the past three days, three other men told me I was beautiful, in a quite serious and personal manner, when I got up to leave after we'd been talking a while. I know I'm not beautiful, but it's nice to be told I'm appreciated however they go about expressing it. (Keep in mind these guys are mostly sex-starved geeks. Maybe they just appreciate a woman who flirts with them a little. (I've been told I flirt unconsciously all the time, with everyone. I don't agree. I guess that's the unconscious part. (Should that be subconscious?)))
Which reminds me - we had some folks set up at a table outside the big hospitality room interviewing candidates for Beauty and the Geek, and some past beauties and geeks in a conference room answering questions. (Giggle. After my flattering weekend, I wasn't sure which side I should apply for.)
Programs I attended today: free hospitality breakfast; Science vs Religion - The search for truth; Beauty and the Geek Q&A; Waltzing Australia; an hour by myself in the whirlpool, with a book. (What book, you ask? I'm a Mensan. It was a dictionary - Bryerson's Dictionary of Troublesome Words.)
Programs I did not attend: Non-denominational Worship Service; Presentation of Awards; Swing Dance Lesson; Exertion (talk on strange sports, stunts, and physical activities); Trust Me, I'm a Lawyer (I wanted to go to this, but it overlapped the science vs religion program, which was very good); Stitch & Bitch; Settlers of Catan Tournament; Proctor Training (how to certify to administer the Mensa IQ test); Everything's Digital - Amazing opportunities and some problems; the after-party, known as "The Survivor's Party".
It was all over by 3 pm. The word was passed that all uneaten food in the hospitality rooms would be discarded, so come and get it now. I loaded a plate with meats and cheeses and melon and three bean salad to have for dinner, and scarfed up all the cans of iced tea I could find. Picnic in my room.
Bedtime. Hard traveling tomorrow. Luggage heavier with books (and handout trash that I'll likely throw away as soon as I get home, but right now seems so very important to LIFE!) I haven't the faintest idea how one gets from here to the airport, whether taxis will even come here to take me. I'll figure it out, I guess.
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