It's my birthday! Yay!
Stuff that amused me:
The origins of the @ sign and how the octothorpe (#) got its name.
I got a remote starter installed on Saturday. It was starting to snow as I picked up my car at the shop. Between then and this morning, we got 5 or 6 inches. It was so nice to go out to a warm car on a cold Monday morning.
"In time for the Thanksgiving holiday, Jones Soda will launch a limited production of the sugar-free and no carbohydrate Turkey & Gravy flavored beverage in the Washington and Michigan markets."
I'm sorry, but this is just not a good idea. Really. But I bet it would be great with an Octodog. (Hey, if we're talking about disgusting food, why not go all the way?)
And on another note, I'm totally stunned by these chalk drawings. I think my favorites are Dante's Inferno and Muses.
Days like this are why I love Posted by rachel at 11:27 AM | Comments (0)
Ok, so it's real latin, rather than Pig Latin, but it's fun all the same. Wouldn't Julius Caesar like to know this week's weather forcast for St. Paul?
There have been times that I've wondered what the numbers on my driver's license mean. Well, now I know.
This morning I've been looking at a site called Photo Studio. It's fascinating to me to see how people have chosen to have themselves portrayed. My favorite pages are the photos from India, with their fanciful painted backgrounds, and the quinceanera photos from Chicago, which show just how dangerous Photoshop can be when put into the wrong hands.
And of course, there's always the Octodog!
I've just started exploring the archives of Speckled Paint and I am speechless, smacked over the head with glimpses of beauty and surreal worlds.
"...I stopped going to Fred Segal and getting the one thing in the whole store that fit me. I started buying clothes that fucking fit me, like now. I put away all notions of what diets meant to me, what I was supposed to eat and not supposed to eat. I altogether lost the thought process that carried me through my life - my dieting and exercise regimen - and started thinking about the people I loved, hated, tolerated, laughed at, laughed with....
I never deny myself a fucking thing because I have denied myself enough for 1000 lifetimes and there is no more denial for me in the way that I live. I deserve all the mozzarella sticks, all the fucking chocolate, all the fucking pizza, all the chicken a'la king, and I deserve to leave what I don't finish on the plate.
So there you go. Big secret diet. Love. Love and the audacity to actually waste food." from the "Fuck It" Diet
There's a lot of sensible stuff tossed in there between the expletives. :) I realized years ago that, no matter what I do - exercise a lot or a little, eat pizza & chocolate or just salad - my weight & body size stay pretty much the same. Let's hear it for European peasant stock & good baby-bearing hips. So, while I try to use wisdom & eat lower on the food chain, I refuse to let food become my obsession. Life is too short.
A few of my favorites:
God, You Can Be Such a Jerk Sometimes
Even Cripples Praise Your Name
Another Rainy Day. Great. Thanks a Lot.
Just One More Hour, and Then We Go Home
You Have to Admit, This Sounds Pretty Farfetched
O Lord, We Really Prefer Not to Know
Alleluia, Schmalleluia
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I wonder what would happen if we started singing what we really feel, rather than what we want others to think we feel? There are a few songs at the Porch that seem to approach this, but we seem to be the exception to the rule. (I fear the day that I have to find a new church; how many Sundays of happy-clappy will I have to endure?)
How often do I long to sing, "God, I'm pissed off and hurting, afraid to let go of my dreams and trust that you'll take care of me. Why should I believe you, when all I see around me is pain? The last thing in the world that I want to do right now is praise you. Frankly, the fact that I bothered to come to church at all should probably be considered a minor victory, since it would have been much easier to stay home on the couch and watch the Simpsons."
Heh. If I were feeling more musically inspired these days, maybe I'd actually try writing that one.
Well, I'm done puking my guts out. So much for my big weekend plans (weather stripping, apple butter, new windows). I spent the past 2.5 days sleeping on the couch. I even missed the fire at church. (I guess we lost a banner. Not as exciting as the night I set my hair on fire, but probably more spectacular, size-wise.)
This afternoon it was finally in the low 40s and I thought I should try planting some of the bulbs. I got in about 50-60, but I have about 150 left, I think. The ground was just too hard; it must be starting to freeze. Now my hand hurts. And the instructions said to plant the tulips 8 inches deep - yeah, right. I managed 4 inches if I was lucky. I hope some of them come up.
Yesterday we finally saw the sun, after 2 weeks of cloud and gloom. Unfortunately, that also made the temp drop about 15 degrees. I'm feeling better, though, so I guess I'll take sun & cold for $500, Alex.
It looks like my request for reduced hours has been approved. I just have to wait for the next pay period for it to kick in. Marty asked if I'd be willing to drop my hours even more, if freelance business picks up. Frankly, that sounds great.
You want to hire me, don't you?
So today's Strib says, "The Twin Cities ranks eighth among the nation's 20 biggest metro areas in the net gain per capita of young, educated adults." And I guess I do know a lot of singles. But what good does it do me? Perhaps I just run in the wrong circles, but all I see & hear is people (including me) complaining about how hard it is to meet eligible members of the appropriate sex. If there are so many singles here, why isn't anyone dating?
The world has been stripped of color; I fall into an old photograph.
Last Saturday Holly and I went to Aamodt's Apple Farm and bought a bunch of apples so that I could make apple butter. It cooked all of yesterday, but I was too tired to try to can it last night, so I put it out on the porch to cool. Now I'm waiting for it to heat up again, so that I can bottle it. I've never canned before, so I'm hoping everything works ok. I have enough apples to do another 4 batches, I think.
I've been thinking this week about KP's list of Shana's deal breakers. I find it very amusing, because posing for Playgirl and being willing to do it again is the only thing on the list that I'd consider a dealbreaker; the other three (working at a Renaissance fair, liking medieval weapons, and having a cat) are things I'd probably consider positive attributes. Well, ok - the medieval weapons isn't a huge selling point, but I can kind of understand it (dad likes old guns, I like medieval history). Heck, I think it's a much more interesting hobby than following the Vikings or some other sports team. And I've thought at times that working the Ren Fair could be a lot of fun. Especially on Highland weekend; mmm - men in kilts.
So what would be my dealbreakers?
1. Not a Christian
2. Doesn't read (This one came up on my last date, and on an eharmony match I had a year ago. Since I single-handedly keep my library in business, I just can't see myself with a guy who can't even manage a book a month.)
3. Doesn't like cats
4. Never wants children
I don't see why the right guy is so hard to find. Maybe I need to start publicizing the bounty I'm offering?
