Angels & Airwaves 2

I've decided to turn the project down as they seem to want to pay me pittance. I did get compliments on my writing samples though. Here's one:

Autumn in Downtown Santa Barbara

The best time of year to visit Santa Barbara is early to mid autumn. The temperate climate provides you with blue skies, clear air and a view across the Pacific to the Channel Islands. Stay at the Simpson House Inn for a Slow Food Santa Barbara recommended hotel – included in the stay is a full vegetarian breakfast and evening hors d’oeuvres featuring local Santa Barbara wines.

If you’d rather venture to town for breakfast, downtown is walking distance. A casual yet sophisticated breakfast, the Pierre LaFond Bistro is located on State Street and opens at 7am. They serve bagel sandwiches made with organic eggs and a host of seasonal, fresh ingredients in addition to the recommended breakfast burritos, featuring creative ingredients such as sautéed leeks and Pasilla Chilis.

Pierre LaFond is situated right on State Street. If you turn right leaving the bistro, you will encounter all sorts of shops including the Paseo Nuevo mall just two blocks up and across the street.

To your left is a walk to the Pacific Ocean, Stearns Wharf and the beach. Stearns Wharf has the Santa Barbara Shellfish company where you can purchase locally caught crabs and other seafood.

On Tuesday afternoons the Santa Barbara Farmers Market takes over downtown. It’s a great way to meet locals and get a feel of Santa Barbara as it is quite a popular way to spend the afternoon. There is usually a variety of street musicians and plenty to sample.

For lunch, another great spot on State Street is the Natural Café. Order at the counter off a vegan friendly, mostly vegetarian menu, which includes fruit and fruit juice smoothies or creamy shakes (soy milk available upon request). They serve traditional, hearty lunch food with a healthy twist, like tempeh tacos or baked potatoes stuffed with steamed vegetables and tahini ginger sauce.

A few blocks up is the Santa Barbara Museum of Art which, although small, usually has a tasteful collection of work. The Santa Barbara Botanical gardens are 10 minutes away, located in Mission Canyon (a great place to find trail heads for hiking, as well). It’s dedicated to the research, education and conservation display of California Native Plants.

For dinner, Bouchon is the place to go for seasonal, fresh ingredients as well as a regional wine menu that has earned Wine Spectator magazine’s Award of Excellence. Chef Josh Brown draws influence from Thomas Keller (French Laundry), Daniel Boulud (Restaurant Daniel) and Alice Waters (Chez Panisse).

Finish the evening with dessert at Epiphany and if they aren’t having live music there, after you’ve finished your seasonal fresh fruit tart walk over to SoHo and catch some live Jazz to finish the evening.

Angels & Airwaves

I've decided to try some free lance writing and I was given a "test" assignment this afternoon. I'm supposed to write a band biography of the band "Angels & Airwaves." Unfortunately, this band is awful. It features the lead singer of Blink-182 among other pop punk sensation band members. The worse part is that all the interviews I find of the above mentioned lead singer, Tom Delonge, he seems to take himself as a serious musician.

I mean, on par with the likes of Roger Waters, Robert Smith and Sting in regards to influence (I use those examples because he himself mentions them in this comically egotistical interview) .

As far as I can tell, he's made a career of writing 3 chord songs and having a stupid haircut. Not that all 3 chord songs are terrible, but his certainly are. It's like he thinks that because he can sell out a stadium just as easily as they can, his music is as influential, meaningful, innovative and lasting as Dark Side of the Moon or Regatta de Blanc, when really it bears about as much influence on music as the Monkees. I hardly think that in 10 years there are going to be emerging bands listing Blink-182 or Tom Delonge as any sort of influence other than trying to avoid selling out as they have done.

Grow-Your-Own-Bodyparts! Made in Finland! Just Add Blood Serum!!

A Finnish patient has successfully undergone an upper jaw transplant with a jaw that he grew in his own abdomen, using stem cells harvested from the patient's fat.

!!

My disfigurement worsens

The blister on my lip has worsened. The skin that was protecting it adhered to a tissue I was using to wipe my mouth and was brutally torn off. This was followed by bleeding and soreness and general irritation, I have described it to some as "horrifying" and "unpleasant."

For several reasons, I have chosen not to illustrate the extent of the injury by way of digital photograph. One, I fear it would be too graphic for those with a weak constitution. Two, the digital camera on my phone is terrible and might not accurately portray the extent of the injury - I am loathe to mislead my readers and my journalistic integrity is paramount. Three, It's more fun if you have to imagine it.

My disfigurement

In keeping with the tradition of documenting injuries/medical affilictions of myself, I thought it necessary to post the following picture:

If it is not clear what the injury is (because I used a camera phone to take it), perhaps the following better illustrates it's location:

This occurred because after a particularly grueling dentist experience yesterday to fix a chip in my tooth, I was left completely numb on the left side of my face for several hours. Apparently I take a lot of anesthetic and the particular nerve that was needed to be reached is "high" compared to most people - it took 3 separate injections to find. Those hours of numbness happened to include my traditional dining hour and I accidentally consumed part of my own lip, discovering it not because of the pain (that came later) but because I started bleeding profusely.

New Jersey Should Be Canceled.

My friend Robert sent me to this website. My particular favourite is the shifty eyed one at the bottom in the pink suit. And why on earth do all the women look so normal? It's like they find orange pineapples attractive or something.

More Ways to Spoil Her Valentines Day

I went to the Vermont Teddy Bear website and looked at the wares as instructed to do by a commercial.

The commercial features a split screen, on one side a close up of one of the (many) available bears (starting at only $49!) and the other side one of several girls with JC Penney Catalog good looks dances around with either said teddy bear or said teddy bear plus the male who presumably gave it to her. Often, the bear and the girl are wearing matching outfits. At one point the camera closes in on a guy's (heart shaped) tattoo. For some reason.

I saw earlier today. There's a category on the first page called: "Show Her You Know Her." I'd like to point out that just the fact that you are giving her a present should tip her off that you have, in fact, met her. And giving her one that's dressed in an outfit that matches her job (a nurse gets a nurse bear, a homemaker gets homemaker bear, the Mexican maid gets Mexican maid bear) doesn't necessarily mean you know her other beyond reading her MySpace profile. I was going to make a joke about "business casual bear" but I can't because they actually have a business casual bear. I also feel that I should stop here because making fun of this website is just too damn easy. (Okay, one more: Huggable Hunk Bear - Someone has decided to sexualize a bear by putting him in boxer briefs. You can also choose to have a personalized, hear shaped tattoo on this particular bear. What a nod to Christian weirdos and their pervasive, persistent sexual confusion and misinformation).

I fantasize about the type of women excited by these gifts. She's probably a little overweight. She might have really long hair, the length of which is a point of pride for her. She definitely collects things. She may or may not have a tattoo on the small of her back or possibly her calf - if she does, it's of some Disney character and it was done poorly. She wears scrubs every day (possibly for no good reason other than "They're comfortable!" except for when she goes out to dinner (her favorite restaurant is The Olive Garden) which time she puts on a pair of jeans, a hoodie, ridiculous, ugly chunky black patent platform sandals and too much makeup. She loves animals but has little to no contact with them regularly, unless she is, of course, a vet tech. Her bedroom is pink and frilly, despite the fact that she's 29, because she's desperately trying to stay 12 but still wants to appear sexy and attractive.

I find these sorts of things depressing. I fail to understand what kind of meaning someone can derive from being given a dressed up bear beyond the fact that he was willing to spend fifty bucks. I am pained by the fact that so many women would find the gift of one of these objects thoughtful and sweet. Finally, man hating feminist I am not, I find the idea of being given a toy, meant for children, a little demeaning.

Spoil Her Valentines Day

The other day, we were on a shopping trip to the Milk Pail to buy some vegetables for a leek and potato soup (we made it last night and it was delicious, similar to this recipe).

Ryan mentioned as we walked from the car buying me a teddy bear for Valentine's Day and I burst out laughing.

"You would never, ever buy me a teddy bear."

"You're right. You got me."

There was some talk of exactly why he would never buy me a teddy bear, something along the lines of what's the point, it just sits around, I'm a grown woman, etc.
-------------------------
I got to work this morning and have had occasion to glance at the television screen that is just above my computer monitors, partially obstructed by a pillar.

Right now, a cross eyed black man is arguing with a bearded man in a tan suit with a pink tie. The pink tie standing in front of a green screen, displaying a picture of what looks like Big Ben. It's on mute, so I'm just watching their faces while they shout.

There was a commercial earlier for Teddy Bears that you can buy online. Yesterday, it was really ugly pajamas - cotton knit shapeless pink tank tops with baggy flannel trousers or red velor twin sets. One set I noticed were pink and featuring candy hearts with cutesy phrases written on them.

In the commercial, the women comes down some stairs with an alluring look on her face while an anxious and apparently aroused male watches. She seems quite pleased and unabashed to dance around for him despite the unflattering nature of her garments.

It's such a dischord: cheesy shots of champagne and roses on a bed and then an embarrassingly-over-30 woman walks in wearing pajamas that 13 year old might find babyish and embarrassing to bring on a sleep over.

You can purchase these pajamas at the following website:

www.pajamagrams.com

The website has a particularly poor design: when I first visited it I perceived the text on one side to read

"Spoil Her Valentines Day"

When really it reads:

"Spoil Her This Valentines Day"

Perhaps it was some sort of subconscious reading because anyone who gave me anything as hideous as those pajamas would certainly spoil my day, Valentine's or not.

If Democrats Had Any Brains, They'd Do Something To Shut Anne Coulter Up:

Found this link, on my friend LaNina's blog. Strange, but true. Anne Coulter supports Hillary Clinton for president - leaves a bad taste in my mouth and a strange feeling in my stomach, kind of like a Safeway Deli Sandwich.

This is good for those of us liberals who have voted against Hilary: I can't think of a worse person to endorse something.

Vote No on Hillary Clinton

I cast my vote today.

It it my patriotic duty to help prevent the country from being run by
Hillary Clinton.

I also determined to cast my vote as a consumer: I shall never again
buy a sandwich from the Safeway Deli, until such time as sweeping deli
reform is undertaken.

-Ryan

Also, lest your liberal friends start looking to John McCain for the answers: go to his website and look at his position on just about everything. It's a lot worse than you hoped.

We're doomed.

$20,000 Coffee Machine

This article in the NY Times reports on a $20,000 coffee maker. It looks like a cartoon science kit, with glass jugs suspended halogen lamps instead of flames.

What I want to know is, with the rise in prevalence of coffee aficionados, pseudo coffee aficionados and morons who "just have to have their Starbucks," why the hell can't any of the "baristas" (an annoying moniker if ever there was one) ever make a decent cup of tea? Certainly they are not the same thing, but if they have to be trained to use the fancy contraptions to make grande mocha lattés, they can learn to brew a decent cup of tea.

Tea should be lovingly, gently steeped in hot water, not scalding. A lot of people leave their tea bags in the tea while drinking it - I'm not sure why except perhaps due to ignorance, impatience or maybe even laziness, but if you drink tea this way, it will start out being too weak (and too hot, if you get it from a coffee shop) and then it becomes too bitter as the tannins have over taken the flavour. What's the point?

*Note: Ryan insists that the coffee maker cannot be halogen powered as the NY Times purports it to be as halogens are inert and cannot power anything.

Soy Milk and Britney Spears

My chair points me directly to the flat screen television which is on all day long at work. I've heard they even have one in the men's bathroom, so that you don't miss anything while you are peeing.

Here is an example of something you might miss:

According to CNBC this morning, soy is apparently a solid investment these days as its popularity is increasing. There is not enough soy to go round and it is closing in on corn as the crop that fuels the world. Credibility of this story soy as an investment is leant by showing a reporter, live, standing in the soy milk aisle holding a carton of Silk ™. Also helpful: a B-roll interview of a purported “health conscious” someone who buys soy milk with the byline “Soy Milk Consumer”:

“I had thought it would taste really bland, but it really doesn’t!”

It’s hard, however, to take any “news” story seriously, no matter how many credibility lending attributes the producer has tried to give it such as shots of tractors being driven around, soy beans being poured from one receptacle to another and smug news anchors seated at a desk with two open laptops in front of them, when it’s followed by “CNBC’s Unofficial Obsession with Blonde Celebrities Indicator” featuring shots of Britney Spears being taken away in an ambulance.

She’s not even very blonde.

Lists: Odd Things

*The garbage disposal in the kitchen sink is a model called the “In-Sink-Erator”

*My iGoogle account features a little fox like creature that goes about his day, while I go about mine. I’m fiercely jealous of him because his day is spent waking up, doing a little laundry, hanging out with his bird friends, eating sushi, reading a book and harvesting his watermelons. Mine is spent watching him do these things, periodically, throughout the work day.

*I got a missed call yesterday from a 415 number. I Googled it, as I do with every unrecognized number I get. I’m quite guilty of the modern day cell phone protocol of taking full advantage of caller ID: I never answer numbers I do not recognize and I usually don’t answer restricted/unknown numbers unless I’m expecting my parents to call. Once, in college, my number was mistakenly printed in the local Pennysaver classifieds as the contact information for an entertainment center among other various items. I answered the first call because it was the area code was the same as mine and I thought perhaps it was an old friend trying to get in contact with me. The man asked about the entertainment center he’d seen advertised and I said,

“I’m sorry; I believe you have the wrong number. I haven’t placed any ads in the Pennysaver.”

He responded with “Oh. What about the speakers?”

I had a few more calls like this; most people were apologetic, one person was quite rude and accused me of lying to avoid selling the center to him. I finally stopped answering the phone calls and, upon further introspection decided that if it had been an old friend, they would have left a message and I could have called them back. So I stopped answering phone numbers I didn’t recognize.

The results of my Google search yesterday were surprisingly fruitful. Typically, when you Google a number, it doesn’t really tell you much except that perhaps the owner had a Verizon account at one point. This one came up with one search item and it was a phone book entry for San Francisco. From someone I went to high school with. Not someone I ever spoke to or had any contact with in any capacity: he was a weird, skinny kid with a terrible hair cut and 2 years older than me. We had no mutual friends/connections except we potentially bought pot from the same people. So it had to have been a wrong number, but a wrong number from someone whose identity I recognized? Very odd.

Poor Planning

One of the rainiest days of the year and I forgot to wear a coat.

ROOM FOR RENT, L@@K!

I love Craigslist listings that are written as though the author is having a conversation with you. Or rather, shouting at you.

"PLEASE DO NOT WASTE TIME BY ASKING IF YOU CAN MAKE PAYMENTS ON SECURITY DEPOSIT OR FIRST MONTHS RENT. OH NO BUDDY, NOT HAPPENING. NOT LIKE THAT LAST JERK WHO NEVER PAID. I'VE LEARNED MY LESSON. WON'T BE DOING THAT AGAIN."

Okay, the last three sentences were made up. But "OH NO BUDDY, NOT HAPPENING" was real. And it really was in all capitals. I think illiterate people do this out of laziness. Lazy literate people just don't capitalize at all and while this is acceptable for personal, casual emails, it shouldn't be for an advertisement. Correct punctuation, correct grammar and correct spelling exist for a reason: uniformity makes for ease of communication and lessens the chance of misunderstanding.

For purposes of Craigslist though, it also weeds out the people that you don't want living with you or acting as your landlord.

"very nice mobilehome avalible close to freeways,shoping,cc collage perfer male"

More Craiglist follies: When Ryan was looking for someone to take over his room, he got at least 2 requests from parents/older relatives, soliciting information about the room for their adult child. One was for a 19 year old kid, the other was for a 30 year old grad student!

"I'm responding to your ad on Craigslist. My 22 year old son is looking for a room to rent. He has been living at home until now, because they failed to cut the chord when he was born and thus I have never left him alone for more than 20 minutes. He decided recently that he needed to find his own place. Seeing as I indulge every whim of his, so that he can concentrate on getting into Harvard Law School as well as the Fuqua School of Business without worrying about mundane details such as paying bills, dealing with disappointment and tying his shoelaces, I've taken responsibility for his search. As I prefer to shield him from distressing situations, I would like to view the place before he looks at it to make sure that it will provide an atmosphere conducive to him fulfilling his potential for success as well as appropriate for a few "peculiarities" of his - he must have a south facing window as he burns easily in direct sunlight, he is allergic to soy, nuts, milk, parsley, fish oil, fruits and vegetables, and cell phone coverage must be clear in every room as I need to be able to get a hold of him at least 3 or 4 times a day. Would you be available to show it to me today?"

"sch-ch-choo"

I think it's funny when people are talking to other people on the phone, particularly strangers, and when one of the people is supposed to be doing something (like looking up a date or time) that is traditionally a silent one, that person sometimes feels the need to make a noise, usually sounding like this:

"sch-ch-choo"

This noise usually symbolizes two things:

"I am still on the phone"

"I am doing the discussed task"

I never make that noise, choosing instead to say something along the lines of

"If you don't mind, let me just look that up for you."

"I'm really in the mood for some overcooked spaghetti noodles with some marinara sauce. But none of that fresh stuff, I'd like it to be permeated with the taste of the can it came from. Oh, and since I equate quantity, rather than quality, with value, I won't be happy unless I get a portion that is twice the size of my head - I want to make sure I get my money's worth. In addition to this, since this is a high class restaurant: one without televisions showing the "game", could you please make sure that there are enough ads in the menu? My poor social skills, illiteracy and general lack of taste and manners prevent me from concentrating or having a conversation on anything that is not an advertisement. "

Of all the poor quality restaurants you could go to in Downtown PA, why on earth would you go to the Cheesecake Factory?

I'd like someone to answer that question beyond saying "They don't know any better."

There is no excuse for eating bad food!

I want to move to Bhutan

The economy in Bhutan is measured not in terms of GNP (Gross National Product), but rather, in terms of GNH (Gross National Happiness).

This would probably help me combat the almost inevitable effects of GPD (Geriatric Profanity Disorder).


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gross_national_happiness
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gross_National_Product#Gross_National_Product
http://www.duffgardens.net/media/images/wallpaper2.gif

Sleep

I wish that I could be this man and never have to sleep. I mean, don't get me wrong, sleeping is quite pleasurable, for a number of reasons.

But think how much stuff I could do if I didn't have to! And yes, I am quite familiar with the concept of polyphasic sleep having a brother who has attempted using the Uberman Sleep Schedule on several occasions(I call it the Loserman Sleep Schedule, because it meant he had to stop whatever we were doing every four hours to go down for his nap).

While it seems like a great idea - to have 30-40 hours extra per week, similar to raw food diets, it seems that no one is able to stick to it permanently.

Mullet Dream

Last night I dreamed I woke up and went to brush my teeth only to find that I had grown a mullet. I spent some time holding up the back and considering whether or not I should cut the long parts off, in order to have it appear more even. But I thought about how long it would take for my hair to grow back and opted to keep it, thinking that I'd like to have long hair again sooner, rather than later.

Billy

Thanks for all the info A---- i really appreciate it. I love him dearly and he is a favorite around the barn. I showed him all last year and he did wonderful he was champion or reserve champion in the AA hunters at all but one show. They where mostly B shows but the competition is stiff around here. He did really well in the Eq too 5th overall at the cloverleaf medal finals out of 22 riders. He is the most easy going boy I started riding him and jumping him on the wire (My roommate was on the drill team at fox field) about 6 months ago and he loves it and I completely trust him. He is the token trail horse at the barn. When my cousins or friends family come into town they are always asking to borrow Billy for a lesson or trail ride because he is so tolerant and forgiving. We have just been hanging out and trail riding for the last couple months to take a vacation from the showing. He really likes acupuncture and the chiropractor is gets very sleepy. he is best buds with my mom's warmblood and enjoys a turnout with him every once in a while.I have always believed there was that one horse out there for me that I would truly connect with and I believe that Billy is that horse. Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to own such a wonderful horse I love him dearly and will have him forever. I hope that one day my children will get as much joy from him as both you and I.There are pictures of us on Diana fields photography and Naismith photography under Damascus if you want to see pictures of him in action. Take care and keep in touch. Brook

I went and looked at his pictures and he is the same old Billy, knees square, ears flopping around.

I'm glad that he found a home that seems to suit him so well - although I loved him very much and was quite attached, I realize now that there came a point between the two of us where I just wanted something different than he was able to give and he wanted something different than I was willing to give.

This does not mean that I don't find the situation utterly heart breaking. I really, really miss him and I really, really miss riding.

++++++++++

Today on Amazon

I'm trying to put together a design kit for a party that I am helping organize. I decided to order everything from Amazon as they have a variety of the necessities and that way shipping will be saved.

Through my browsing, and I'm not exactly sure how (something that is similar to the Wikipedia affliction I suffer from), I found several really weird things.

1. Box edge protectors that cost a few million dollars.

2. Festive decorations for your infant sons penis.

3. An online store that sells a myriad of objects, the only unifying theme is that they are all purple. Note the annoying bumper sticker.

The hippies are right!

Honey is better for you than cough syrup when it comes to respiratory ailments.

Yay! No holes in the brain for me!

Hours of my time

Can be wasted at this website. I mean it, hours.

It seems people do read this blog after all

I received the following comment in regards to this entry:

Thanks for the feedback about our models, Lucy.

-Lisa
American Apparel

Unfortunately there is no way of verifying if this Lisa does have any affiliation with American Apparel as her blog spot profile is almost non existent and her only blog entry is nonsense.

However, in the hopes that she does have a legitimate affiliation, I'd like to clarify something for her:

I like American Apparel clothes with a few exceptions (mainly that awful v neck talked about in this post and leggings - I can't wait for leggings to go out of fashion again). I like the fact that they are making an effort to change the way people make clothes and are proving that you can make non sweatshop clothes that are not absurdly expensive, just kind of expensive. Like organic produce verses "conventional" produce. I believe in putting ones money where ones mouth is, and if you can afford to do so, that's great.

I also understand what they are trying to accomplish with their marketing gimmmick of using blown out photographs of bored people who look like they just woke up.

That doesn't mean it isn't funny that they have blown out pictures of bored people who look like they just woke up.

Tobias Funke Meets Craigslist

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Real Santas in Overland Park

I have been charged with the task of finding a "Santa" for my boss's holiday party. I've always found this (American?) idea of meeting the "real Santa" really, really weird. Why would anyone want their child to sit on some strange man's lap just because he's wearing a funny costume and has a tobacco stained beard? Is any child over the age of 3 really that naive as to believe that Santa is hanging around in the local mall? And if they aren't 3 then why bother - they won't remember it anyway? Isn't it so much more magical, interesting and imagination cultivating to not spoil/cheapen the idea of Santa by having him appear at said mall?

Perhaps I am an overly skeptical person and perhaps I was from a young age, but I have distinct memories of telling my father I believed in Father Christmas (as he is called in our family) mostly to keep him happy, much in the same way I ate the pancake he made using the entire jug of batter while my mother was away - I didn't want to hurt his feelings. My brother was still living at home then and we were in Syria, so I couldn't have been older than 5, when I expressed to my father that I was worried Father Christmas wouldn't be able to get into the house, as there was no chimney. He made a big show of leaving the door open a crack and was utterly thrilled to do so. I stood back and watched him enjoy himself, knowing that there was no way a fat man in a red suit would be flying all over the world giving people presents. It made about as much sense as believing in a man who sat up in the sky watching and judging our every move.

But I digress.

In my search for the perfect party Santa, I came across this, the website for the Amalgamated Order of Real Bearded Santas convention taking place in wonderful, Overland Park, Kansas: "Overland Park is "The Natural Choice" for your vacation or business destination."

I've been to Overland Park, Kansas. My experience there reinforced every single stereotype I had developed about the Midwest, from the awful, sugary food from cans, packets or boxes, to the various amphetamine habits of the inhabitants, to the disgusting strip mall culture all the way to racist morons (I was, in all actuality, called a "Sand Nigger" when I was there).

It is not the "natural choice" for anyone's vacation and these poor Santas, traveling from such far away, nice, places such as Sweden or Germany are going to be utterly horrified. Much more than they were at last years convention which was in Branson, Missouri, also known as Vegas for Christians.

Moving on, I also came across this site and then burst out laughing. I am made uncomfortable by these sorts of things and thus resort to laughing: it smacks of pathetic effort. Look at Santa Dave from Vista, California. He's had professional photos taken, he probably has a head shot he sends out. Never mind that the photos were taken at Sears and he's looks almost as made up as Michael Jeffries, it's the effort that shows. And it makes me uncomfortable that so much effort is put into something so depressingly bad.


Santa Herbert of Vallejo and Napa Valley has a picture that looks like it was taken off of the Megan's Law website and Santa Randy of San Francisco just looks pissed.

Strange men. Again.

A few months ago I made a blog entry about this man:


He is (or was) featured in an American Apparel ad for a V Neck T-Shirt. I discovered today, through perusal of my old blog entries that they had replaced his picture. You can sort of detect a smugness about his expression: he knows he looks ridiculous and he also knows that tons of skinny jeaned, behoodied teenage boys will be staring at his picture going "Is this the new look?? I hope I hit puberty soon or I won't have the 70's porn star chest hair display and homeless man stubble in time for the Ladytron show!"

Anyway, they replaced it with something much more their style:

This man looks equally sad and pathetic, he just happens to look like a date rapist instead of Gene Wilder's illegitimate son.

I like to think that the change is because someone read my original blog entry. I really hope so.

Freecycle

My roommate Shawn has got me turned onto a program called Freecycle. The ultimate manifestation of one man's trash is another man's treasure, you advertise or peruse advertisements for free stuff. All done by email.

Granted, so far I have yet to find anything of use to me.

OFFER:

1 bag of used men's t shirts, slightly soiled.

OFFER:

1 slightly worn wooden table, comes with 4th leg. U pick up.

OFFER:

Extra roll of aluminium foil, half used up.

But, I have managed to get rid of some things. Like 2 sets of skis I've been hauling around from the days my ski fanatic landlord jilted me on a deposit. I assumed I could get something for them or at the very least, not have to rent my own, the next time I went skiing (whenever that was going to be). They were sitting in our storage unit for the 1.7 years I lived there.

Turns out all they were for me was an extra thing to drag around. Gilda has them now and I hope she's quite happy with them.

I can't stand owning these things and dragging them around with me. I'm glad Freecycle gives me the freedom to load my junk on someone else. I learned this frustration with clutter after living with a borderline text book hoarder for 3 years - he couldn't throw anything away and would get furious if I suggested it. He owned 30 t-shirts and finally, after begging him for months to give some of them away, tired as I was of washing them, I resorted to packing them in suitcases and dragging them to our storage unit. He never noticed. If I'd known about Freecycle, they'd have been gone forever.

My ex-boyfriend (the text book borderline hoarder) and I bought a set of side tables together for $50 at a garage sale. He wanted to sand them, refinish them and apparently they'd be beautiful. One had a sticky drawer - he'd get that fixed right up. He got as far as sanding the top off of one (the one with the sticky drawer) and when he moved out, he took the other one with him, leaving me with and ugly, unfinished side table that had a sticky drawer. Thanks to Freecycle, an old friend of mine from high school is stopping by to pick it up, he'll be here in a minute or so - not only is Freecycle helping me declutter, it's putting me in back in contact with people I'd lost touch with! He's also taking the TV that the hoarder's parents gave me for my birthday despite the fact that I never asked for one nor do I have a use for one!

Freecycle is great therapy. It helps people get rid of all sorts of things. House furnishings purchased with the best of intentions, woodworking projects gone wrong, "skinny" clothes hung on to in the desperate hopes of fitting into them. Unwanted toys for both pets and children -for me anyway, the relief of getting rid of that crap is more than worth the effort of selling it. Every time something goes away, I feel that much lighter and that much more prepared to face the world.

Decorate your coworkers office!

Perhaps I am a wet blanket or a scrooge or boring but I find the idea that there is a page dedicated to decorating your coworkers office strangely depressing. It might be fun for people who don't have lives or social interactions outside of work.

The article I stumbled upon on wikiHow (irritatingly labeled "the How-To Manual That You Can Edit) describes carefully outlines the steps necessary for curing a case of the Mondays.

The first step is "to find the office or cubicle of the person you intend to throw a party for." The next step is to "identify a good way to decorate it." I think that should probably suffice for anyone who plans to do such a thing, but in the spirit of Jean Teasdale, it continues. It suggests prominently placing a sign "so they know you really want to tell them something." How about a colourful sign made by sponge painting construction paper that reads "You're Fired and I really wanted to tell you!"?

It then suggests wrapping all the objects in there desk with wrapping paper and filling it with something fun, thus preventing them from getting straight back to work.
Instead, they have to waste time, climbing over balloons, and unwrapping individually wrapped office supplies.

"Oh and you even wrapped my pens and pencils. How thoughtful."

The last suggestion is to take pictures "so that you can remember the fun you and your coworkers had for years to come."

I think that if you had to take the step to find your coworkers cubicle or office, you probably don't have any cause to commemorate this event further than you already have.

The final tip:

"Only use certain party items for people who will like them. Otherwise they don't add to the fun."

Sgt. Podge needs a lift

Sgt. Podge is a 12 year old cat that has started disappearing at night. Every morning, his owner, Liz Bullard, on her way back from dropping her son off at school, goes and picks him up at the same spot. On the weekends and when her son doesn't have school, the routine continues.

"Back at home, Sgt Podge has breakfast before going to sleep by a warm radiator."

Although this story has almost no place in a newspaper (it came from the BBC, strangely enough), I'm going to suspend my usual sarcasm and say: I really enjoyed it. I can't think that an American would do the same thing, I think British people (at least in the case of my family) have a strong respect for their pets as individual beings with the capability of handling their own responsibilities, feelings and decisions.

I also like the idea that the cat has come to rely on his lift home and has somehow convinced Bullard to pick him up every day.

And that Bullard is the kind of person who would, every morning, go and pick up her cat with the same punctuality and solemness required of picking up another human being - it's something I bet my mother might do, given the right circumstances.

Ryan is in Russia

Here is what I have been thinking about:

Kaliningrad is 10 hours ahead. He arrives home on Sunday evening. Because of the time difference, he departs Kaliningrad on Saturday night. Right now it's Saturday morning (there). Which means he's leaving tonight according to his clock.

According to mine, he's leaving tomorrow night. What adds to the weirdness is the feeling of time stopping when you are on a plane. Like that time doesn't quite count somehow.

He's sitting in Kaliningrad thinking,

"I'll be on my way home tonight."

and I'm thinking,

"He's not going to be home for another 2 days, he's not leaving until tomorrow night."

Those two points, while one is much farther in the future for me and despite the fact that we are existing in the same moment presently, are actually one point: the point he arrives.

Alternatively, on the way there, he spend 2 days traveling. 2 days were lost to him, as the plane flight was not 48 hours - during this time loss, I went to work twice and had 2 full days.

What a weirdly exhilarating feeling.

Wagging the Dog.

How about this? In addition to us having to put up with images of Arnold Schwarzenegger and George Bush having a make up making out backstage of their press conference regarding the S. California fires, FEMA had their own press conference during which they had employees ask scripted questions.

" The Federal Emergency Management Agency, still struggling to restore its image after the bungled handling of Hurricane Katrina in 2005, issued the apology after The Washington Post published details of the Tuesday briefing.T "

Details on what the hell they were thinking here.

Sexy Research Assistant

The story so far:

Someone who has repeatedly flaked on me, to the point of absurdity, suggested dinner. The plan was for Wednesday, but, true to form, he flaked! I'm not sure why he flakes 90% of the time, if he's poorly organized, unable to reconcile some residual feelings for me (and is working through it by strangely suggesting meeting and then flaking at the last minute) or if he's just a rude person. Anyway, here was my response. I've included it in this blog because it'll be a good reference point in the future for what I was doing in late October, 2007.

I'm back from Austin on Sunday. It won't be as fun as it theoretically could be, it's a wedding. In addition to that, I'm in it.

!

I have to read a poem. Talia suggested that I read the following:

I carry your heart with me(I carry it in
my heart)I am never without it(anywhere
I go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
I fear
not fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)I want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

I carry your heart(I carry it in my heart)

e.e. cummings

I responded with the following:

>I read that one. Unfortunately cannot stomach it as the last time I heard it, it was coming out of Cameron Diaz's mouth, directed at Toni Collette in one of the sappiest, most awful movies I've ever had the misfortune of waking up in front of. God damn you, HBO!

>The scene was during the wedding which, I might add, took place at a jerk chicken restaurant. A jerk chicken restaurant.

>So, rather than risk vomiting (pre-reception party), on your special day and on my new dress, I'd rather not.

>xoxo ali

As for Halloween, I've retired my "sexy cop" outfit and my "sexy nurse" outfit as well as my "sexy dentist" outfit, my "sexy mcdonald's clerk" outfit and my personal favourite, my "sexy certified public accountant" outfit. I'm not dressing up: I've grown to appreciate Halloween for what it is, a reason to eat candy and wear bad and revealing clothes. As I can do that anytime of year, I usually don't celebrate it. What about you?

Preparing Fido

I found this today.


It's a cd of baby noises to help your pet get used to a squalling larval human before the larval human has actually been born.


Imagine sitting around listening to a cd of a crying baby while your dog freaks outs trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

Smoking Cessation Therapy

It seems that companies are now paying for smoking cessation programs for there workers. I found this interesting as my father returned to smoking after having quit for 10 years. He started for a number of reasons, one of them being finding a "smoking buddy" with my now ex-boyfriend. ("Reason # 103 for asking you to move out, you passively encouraged my father to continue smoking!")

These programs, as described in this NY Times article, often include nicotine patches, drugs to ease withdrawal and phone sessions with counselors.

"Spending as much as $900 or so to give a participant free nicotine patches and drugs to ease withdrawal, as well as phone sessions with smoking addiction counselors, can more than offset [the cost]"

I read that and thought about what a phone session with a smoking cessation counselor might be like.

"Hey! It's your smoking cessation counselor. How is everything??"

"Oh fine. I kind of want a cigarette right now."

"Why do you think you want that cigarette?"

"Well. I think... it's the nicotine addiction."

"And why do you think that?"

"Um. I think there's some fairly substantial scientific research to suggest it."

"And how does that make you feel?"

"It makes me feel like I'd like to have a cigarette."

"Where do you think this dependency comes from? Do you think that it might have something to do with what we discussed last session?"

"You mean the time my dog got hit by a car and my parents told me he ran away because I did not clean my room?"

"Yes."

"I'm not sure how that has anything to do with my..."

"Great. I feel like we've reached a breakthrough here. Same time next week?"

My Latest Evolutionary Quandary

A strange thing happened last week and it has raised this question for me:

How much of a persons personal situation should be taken into account when judging how to react?

EVOLUTION, the MOB MENTALITY and CHEATER DETECTION

Studies have shown that humans are far more likely to remember faces of those who cheated them than those who did not. This "cheater detection" makes evolutionary sense: If I wish to protect myself from further damage, I better remember their face. Maybe this is also why people hold grudges, are unable to forgive and developed such emotions as frustration, anger as well as the ability to plan ahead.

This need for protection must have also lead to loyalty and perhaps even the tool that so many dictators use: mob mentality. Mind, I am not referring to group selectionism, because it doesn't exist. Mob mentality would be beneficial because you are raiding or attacking a different group together and there is safety in numbers especially when you all receive similar advantages upon being successful. You go and steal women, adding to your gene pool. Chances are, you are already related to everyone in your group* so this has many advantages. New blood introduced into the group and your brother might find a mate, thus passing at least some of your genetic material, not to mention the chance to spread your own genetic material around some, with the women you don't steal.

People search for these mobs, false groups are created, people are constantly looking to belong to something or someone. No one stays in their home towns any more and home towns are much bigger than they ever used to be. It' s no wonder that things like facebook and MySpace are so popular - in the old days, you knew your ex-boyfriend was still working at the soda fountain because you saw him there. Nowadays, the curiosity is still there, but how to go about satisfying it, seeing as you can't just walk passed the shop window? What about Second Life? All the ease of belonging to something with none of the pressure that goes along with it.

WRITING LETTERS

So how do identify cheaters when you can't actually see their face or really know anything about them beyond what they have chosen to share with you (which may be a baldfaced lie from them, entirely misinterpreted on your part, half truths, whole truths, mostly truths, believed to be truths but in actuality false, preconceptions, misunderstandings and what is reality anyway?).

All these questions exist in face to face interactions but, true to form, the internet magnifies, aggrandizes and intensifies to absurd proportions. Take for example, written word. It both allows for complete descriptions of emotions and feelings but leaves the door wide open for any interpretation the reader chooses. For the purposes of this examination, let's say the email replaced the letter. It not only replaced it, it created it's own purpose, it's own language, it's own set of etiquette rules. But people write emails now instead of letters. Letters take a long time to be written, sent, read and replied to. They have to be drafted, reread and let's face it, having to find a stamp, an envelope and an address is much more time consuming than hitting the send button. So what we have is a magnification of misinterpretation, simply by reason of the fact that email is faster. This misinterpretation is augmented by the short, sharp nature expected of emails. The composition form of a letter, the use of descriptive language and lengthy material is inappropriate. To borrow from Orwell, we are developing a form of Newspeak.

THE MEAT: MY OWN ISSUE

This brings me to my own issue. How do I feel about a person who may or may not have undisclosed personal issues who has expressed, via several emails, deep and venomous disapproval the decision that Ryan and I have made to get married? Through the email that she may or may not suspect me to have read, she questions Ryan's true intentions and suggests that he has made a very unwise and rash decision for no reason other than his wanting to inflict intense pain on everyone he is close to. She uses members of his family as examples of people he has made miserable and by doing this she avoids any culpability.

In short, she sounds prideful, hurt and angry, but mostly tremendously unhappy and not necessarily because of Ryan. I think about her particular situation: cold, in a trailer, up north, with few friends. The winter is drawing near, it must just be getting colder. She doesn't drive, so she must take the bus to school. It's much wetter up north so that means standing in the rain. She is an older undergraduate student. She has no one to really commiserate with besides her husband and perhaps alienates herself as a matter of principal. She perhaps has made some mistakes and is too proud to admit them, to afraid to appear fallible for some reason.

None of this is revealed in any of her emails: it is all secondary information and conjecture. She doesn't mention herself being miserable at all in the email, her displeasure is expressed instead by her incense and moral outrage at Ryan's behaviour.

It almost feels dishonest and unfair that she is not revealing more of herself in the email. To me she has left the impression of a "cheater" to use the evolutionary psychology sense of the term. Her only mention of herself and her own experience is to assert that she was indeed a much more emotionally mature person as well as much more prepared for marriage at 19 than Ryan is at 26. She is also angered that he brought her experience up at all - claiming that the discussion was not about her, it was about him.

As much as I give people the benefit of the doubt, second chances, third chances, 50th chances, especially when I think about their extenuating circumstances or even just regular circumstances, I can't shake this feeling of dislike for her. I think I regard her, innately, as a "cheater" and someone not to be trusted. Someone who holds values that I find unattractive. This bothers me because is singularly uncharacteristic of me to abjectly dislike someone for not attacking me directly. Especially someone who's opinions bear little or no effect on my own life. Most especially someone I haven't even met. I consider it immoral and against my principles.

So I am in, once again, an evolutionary quandary. My genetic programming is telling me to be annoyed, mistrustful and to dislike her and yet my education, principles and culture are telling me that not only is it a waste of time, it's mean and unfair. How do I reconcile this?


*you're probably related to the next tribe over too, just not as closely - and beyond 1st cousins, the danger of deleterious recessives is as negligible as breeding with a stranger on the street

Here Come the Warm Jetsons

A few weeks ago, I made this remark to someone:

"I wonder how long it will take before shoulder pads come back into fashion?"

After the word "shoulder pads" I shuddered.

Well, they have hit the runways are featured in the spring collections. Far be it from me to keep an eye on the fashion world, I just couldn't not comment on the fact that it seems that soon, we will all be expected to dress like the Jtson's and that it seems TV shows from the 50's and 60's were absolutely correct about what life would be like in the "distant future" of the 2000s (at least in terms of clothes). Soon our houses will be filled with kidney shaped accessories done in silver and lemon yellow. The electric and hybrid cars will soon go out of fashion - what better way to reduce your carbon foot print than to make no print at all with a hover car! Of course, soon surprisingly humanoid aliens that bear a striking resemblance to a people wrapped in tin foil and duct tape will come and either dominate the earth and enslave us or their presence will become commonplace and they'll move in next door.

I can't wait!

Lists: more odd things

*Waiting on hold for some lackey to talk to me about some cameras and pondering this question:

"Exactly how obnoxious is it to post GPS coordinates on your website's contact us page?"

Lists: odd things

*Every time I go into my bank, the Food Network, on mute is on all the televisions. I think this is strange, but I also couldn't come up with a better option except possibly No Television.

*A friend of Ryan's acted poorly when he told her that we were getting married. I don't want to think about it anymore, yet my mind keeps wondering back to it. I feel like I should rise above it, I know that it doesn't really matter. Perhaps that's the concern - maybe she is worried that she doesn't matter and is trying to change that by behaving badly, to have some effect on Ryan's life, even if it is negative.

*Hubig's Fruit Pies mysteriously appeared in the office and then not so mysteriously disappeared. Well. Except the coconut flavour. Duh.

*I had a long dream last night and woke up with absolute determination to write a letter to the person who the dream was about - they weren't in it, it was a dream about their absence. I've had the dream at least twice before, somehow I wander into my beloved house in Santa Barbara and it's been done up with nice furniture, more loft space and beautiful artwork is on the walls. The house is empty, they are in Bend, Oregon except for one girl I've never met, who lives there now. I'm annoyed that she's there and she's uncomfortable that I'm there. I try and leave a note on the white board next to the 805 Joy-Walk phone but my handwriting or phrasing or words are all wrong and I keep erasing it. I woke up thinking I must write that letter.

Buddhism

"It's awful, but I just can't help it. Whenever I see the Buddha, I think of Rove. We used to call him "Buddha." Karl's lost weight. Still, if you ever pictured him in a diaper, you never forget it."

George W. Bush, talking to the Dalai Lama

Impending Weddings

I went to Sacramento this weekend to spend some time with Ryan's parents. I had a really nice time because he has a really nice, down to earth, strangely normal family. There is obviously so much unspoken love in that family.

I will say this though: it's strange to spend time with people that you know you are going to know for the rest of your life, but you don't know them very well -yet-.
I imagine that the feeling was mutual but possibly even weirder: here is some girl, you've only met once and you're son is planning on sharing his life with her, yet another reminder that your child is not only an adult, but has a whole life away from you.
------------------------------
In other news:

We've gotten as far as creating a guest list and I understand one is supposed to choose "colours" for the wedding. I've chosen peach and aqua (the bridesmaids will be in long sleeve, peach chiffon with aqua sashes and shoes to match) , but I haven't decided whether or not the theme will be "Disneyana" or "Classy."

I think I want a 4 tier cake, with custom made bride and groom dolls on top - I hear you can get them made with actual hair clippings - so they'll actually look like us too!

I'm hoping to have the reception in some sort of cheap, large, church. It doesn't matter what denomination although I like the modern look of Church of Christ churches and it is always nice when they have gift shops - that way, the guests can buy their own mementos of the weddings, in addition to the key chains and refrigerator magnets that I'll give out at the reception from my chair that's been elevated above everyone on risers so that I can feel like the princess I am.

The magnets will be pictures of me and Ryan and Jeeves. Jeeves will be in a little doggy tuxedo and Ryan will be wearing the jersey of his favourite sports team. I haven't decided on what I'll be wearing but it will either be my Tigger sweatshirt with those jeans I love, the ones with the 9 inch zipper or that floor length, floral shirt dress that I got from the JC Penney catalogue.
My hair: crimped bangs and pulled back into a pony tail of course. I want people to remember that despite the bitch I've been planning on behaving like since I was 10 years old and given my Super Wedding Barbie Doll, I'm still the same Christian rock loving, pressed penny collecting, zany, wacky me!

PS. Ryan and I aren't on speaking terms at the moment. He has flat out refused the idea of us leaving the reception in a horse drawn carriage or even hot-air balloon just because the reception is taking place in the back room of the local YMCA!

Internet Wives and Second Life

This is a bit of a disjointed entry that is an effort to preserve information for a paper.

Rather than writing about the Craigslist Goldigger I'm going to attempt to sum up a conversation that I had with Ryan yesterday regarding internet relationships, such as the one exemplified by this man.

The article that I linked to above is the one that started the conversation - it's about a man who spends all his waking hours (between 6am and 2am) living his "Second Life" with his second wife, that is, his internet wife as opposed to his real, legally bound one.

I made a statement that suggesting that his relationship wasn't real because it wasn't based on reality.

But, in fact, a great many "real" relationships aren't actually based on reality. Also, we go through the same emotions and behaviour with online relationships as we would in the non online world - we aren't equipped otherwise. The man in the story claims that he could express things to his internet wife much more easily than to his real wife - he could tell her "anything." So despite the fact that there is no actual bearing on his life, that there is no "risk" involved in expressing himself, people still get emotionally attached to avatars representing people that don't exist.

The emotions are real, the people aren't.

It's the same situation as seeing someone on the bus everyday and conversing with them. You could be anyone, tell them anything and it wouldn't matter.

Then there's this story, which is fodder for a movie.

Good Calories, Bad Calories and Troglodytes.

There is a current backlash towards the backlash towards fat. I first read about it yesterday in an article by Gina Kolata about Gary Taubes' new book "Good Calories, Bad Calories" (Knopf, 2007). Today, again in the NY Times there is an article about how wrong we are in regards to fat intake and whether or not fat is actually bad for you.

Unfortunately, Gina Kolata's article does little to debunk Gary Taubes other than this blurb at the end of the article:

"I'm sorry, but I'm not convinced."

I'm not convinced either and John Tierney's article today did little to convince me either.

"In the case of fatty foods, that confident voice belonged to Ancel Keys, a prominent diet researcher a half-century ago (the K-rations in World War II were said to be named after him). He became convinced in the 1950s that Americans were suffering from a new epidemic of heart disease because they were eating more fat than their ancestors.

There were two glaring problems with this theory, as Mr. Taubes, a correspondent for Science magazine, explains in his book. First, it wasn’t clear that traditional diets were especially lean. Nineteenth-century Americans consumed huge amounts of meat; the percentage of fat in the diet of ancient hunter-gatherers, according to the best estimate today, was as high or higher than the ratio in the modern Western diet.

Second, there wasn’t really a new epidemic of heart disease. Yes, more cases were being reported, but not because people were in worse health. It was mainly because they were living longer and were more likely to see a doctor who diagnosed the symptoms."

First of all, after WWII, we experienced a cultural and economic shift. We went from a country of farmers to a country of factories, corporations and office buildings. Since then, due to a number of reasons, our lifestyles have gone from active to sedentary, from physical labor to sitting at office desks all day. It would make sense that a fattier diet would not result in the same health problems that are prevalent today: we exercised more and thus needed to eat more.

Second, I'm not sure how often Mr. Taubes or Mr. Tierney has tried to catch game using nothing but a wooden stick, but it isn't easy. There is no way we ate meat in the quantities that we do today and when we did catch it, it was shared among family groups of 20-30 people. It's true we do need fats, sugars and salts. But we like them because they were scarce and hard to come by: Our ancestors who craved meat, went out, caught it, received appropriate nutrition and survived. The ones that didn't died from insufficiencies. Why else would we waste the effort? It's dangerous and hard work to hunt, physical labor or "exercise" is required - much easier to sit around eating roots.

Which brings me to another point. The list of "bad calories" that Mr. Taubes has put in his book:

"Bread and other baked goods, potatoes, yams, rice, pasta, cereal grains, corn, sugar (sucrose and high fructose corn syrup), ice cream, candy, soft drinks, fruit juices, bananas and other tropical fruits, and beer."

This list includes yams, potatoes and bananas - some cultures subsist on diets that are primarily made up of these foods. They do not have a prevalence of obesity. Americans, who live on a diet of McDonalds hamburgers, french fries and oreo cookies do. Bread, cereal grains, corn and beer are all things that we have been consuming for thousands of years. Mr. Taubes argument that "we used to eat it before" appears a little thin here - you can't claim that we've been doing it forever so it can't be bad for you and then suggest that something else that we've been doing forever is instead bad for you.

Unfortunately, this is getting a lot of press and it will provide one more excuse for the overweight troglodytes to eat crap and not exercise.

Addendum to Late For Work

I just arrived home, there was a chewed empty bag of Jeeves "Missing Link" supplement on the floor, Benjamin was missing, there was a trail if discarded cartons and bags out into the garden where Benjy lay on the grass chewed but still in one piece. My bed had mud and dust all over it and chewed tissues from the tissue box were strewn over it!

e

(From my mother)

Late for work

I was 10 minutes late for work this morning. I woke up at 5:15 am, got up and got out of bed and started to walk towards my closet. Something in the corner made me turn my head and I realized that Jeeves was in the corner of my room, in the process of waking up too. He was stretching out his front and back legs while he lay on his side. His eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth was open wide while his tongue curled upwards towards his top front teeth. I thought it was odd that he was even present, because I had left him at my parents house. I sat down next to him and put my arms around his neck. He was warm and soft and sleepy, so he let me. Normally he doesn't like being cuddled, but when he's really sleepy, he puts up with it. I try and take advantage of that when I can.
As happy as I was to see him, I thought it was really strange that he was there. Then I walked over to the closest, he followed me quietly, with his ears and head carried low and his tail wagging, silently. His nails clicked on the hard wood but it was clear he was trying to be soundless. I started to decide what I wanted to wear. I noticed something on the floor - it was one of his toys, which he picked up and then dropped as he noticed something else, also in the closet. I bent down although I was sure it was another toy. It was, in fact, but not one of his. It was one of mine, a soft toy of a Beatrix Potter character, Benjamin Bunny. He had been given to me when I was very small by my aunt Fran. He wore a little brown jacket and a green tam o shanter and had a red handkerchief in his pocket for stealing onions from Mr. Macgregor's garden.
The day before, Jeeves had savagely torn Benjamin's jacket into pieces and dragged him into the back garden at my parents house. But here he was, lying in my closet with his jacket in one piece. Upon closer examination, I noticed that it wasn't actually in one piece, but rather someone had carefully stitched the pieces back together.

I concluded that my mother must have visited me in the night, bringing both Jeeves and Benjamin, after mending Benjamin's coat. How she hadn't woken me or why she had done it was beyond me. It occurred to me that I might even be dreaming but that made no sense. I was up and awake and getting ready for work.

I continued to get dressed and finally went to turn the radio off. I was right on time. And then I saw myself lying in bed still.

Then I rolled over and looked at the clock only to realize that it was 5:57 and I was supposed to be at work in 3 minutes.

Offending Bits

My dog has earned a new nickname.

"Offending Bits"

Why?

Because he mauled a cherished stuffed animal. And then Ryan said something about getting rid of "Offending Bits" while eating a wormy apple.

Popcorn workers lung

So apparently popcorn is bad for your health. I realize this is old news, but I didn't post it until now because I didn't have enough material to provide a sufficient rant.

Until this entry in the NY Times Editorial Notebook. It's a poorly written article and it's also a general trend in laziness that is pervasive on the part of consumers.

The author describes in detail how for a brief minute, he was scared about all the horrid chemicals in his refrigerator. But instead of doing anything about it, he chose to ignore it.

Which is like an obese person reading an article about how being fat is bad for your health and then thinking,

"Gosh. I am Really Fat. I should do something about it before I die of some awful, obesity related disease such as diabetes. I should really stop eating all this crap and take some exercise."

And then thinking,

"You know, everything in my refrigerator at the moment is made of sugar or animal lard. I'm not going to bother after all."

I realize that it would be stressful and difficult, possibly even time wasting to absolutely make sure you controlled all the ingredients in your food - HOWEVER discovering that all the food in your refrigerator contains sodium poisonate is not a reason not to make lifestyle changes. It isn't hard to cook and eat fresh food and being too busy shouldn't be an excuse, because it isn't actually as time consuming as you would think. It's no less time consuming to make a pot of soup with fresh vegetables and spice than it is to cook a frozen pizza.

Here is an example of the authors thinking:

"Sodium benzoate is ubiquitous. It’s in the lime juice we use for cooking, the tonic water, the oriental chicken marinade, even the hummus...For a moment the anxiety floored me. Then I decided to deal with the burst of consumer angst in much the same way I have addressed other such choices: I looked the other way."

The ubiquitous nature of potentially unhealthy ingredients is not a reason to shrug your shoulders and then bury your head in the sand. Fresh limes don't make sodium benzoate naturally and it takes about 5 minutes to make your own, homemade marinade or hummus and they will taste much better for it. And for god's sake, why not just drink your liquor straight, you wimp.

His argument against trying to eat vegetarian or organic?

"But say I went organic or vegan or something. Might not the peanut butter or the wheat gluten assault me? Addressing these fears head-on would probably require devoting my life to the study of organic chemistry."

I don't need to point out the asinine suggestion that veganism requires a degree in organic chemistry. I do, however, need to point out that "because it's hard" shouldn't be something that so readily stops people from things that are better for their body, their families health and for the rest of the community, especially when it isn't actually that hard.

I don't like doughnuts.

Today I declared my dislike for doughnuts and was summarily told to get off my high horse. It wasn’t directed at me in order to make me feel bad or uncomfortable; indeed the person who made the comment stopped himself about halfway through the word “horse” seemingly realizing that it was coming off a bit callous. It still bothered me.

It bothered me the same way that being called a “movie snob” by photographer Jared Raskind, when I was living in Santa Barbara. He was a friend of mine that at one point refused to rent a movie with me on the grounds that I hated every movie we watched together and it wasn’t fun.

He claimed Steven Spielberg to be one of the greatest directors of all time because he’s made “like, a ton of movies that everybody likes”, a point I disputed by explaining that he was probably one of the highest grossing directors of all times due to his skill at making films that appeal to the lowest common denominator, but not one of the “greatest” directors. He also argued that there was no way I could know whether or not a movie was going to be good before I’d seen it – even if I’d seen the previews, read the book or knew who the director, actors, writers and/or directors of photography were and whether or not I’d hated all of there previous work.

I gave in and subjected myself to Black Hawk Down, biting my tongue and then summarily lying through my teeth at the end when he asked me what I thought, he responded with a satisfied priggish response: “See? You enjoyed it.”

I didn’t but I was still a little hurt and confused by his remarks regarding my taste in movies, much in the same way that I was a little put out by the comment this morning. I wasn’t trying to alienate myself in either case but the feeling that I had gotten was that I had given that impression. That the other person may have been lashing out at me with the same sentiment that I have towards people who only like bands you’ve never heard of or tell you that you wouldn’t “understand” Burning Man unless you’ve been. The sort of people who drive Prius’s powered by their own sense of self satisfaction and are so distracted by their own smugness that they cut you off and drive 5 miles below the speed limit in the fast lane.

A similar experience would be with restaurants. Ryan made a commitment to himself that he was no longer going to go to bad restaurants. This was after a coworker had called him a food snob for not wanting to eat at Chili’s or Chatchke’s or Chevy’s or somewhere like that. After making that commitment and then turning down another offer from a different coworker to go to a place of equally bad value for too much money, she told him he was being “ridiculous."

On the one hand I can see how this sort of behaviour comes off as affected, artificial and pretentious, but it’s really not. I honestly do not like doughnuts and never have. I do ­have guilty pleasures, such as watching only the beginnings of “How Clean is Your House” to be appalled at filthy people’s houses or staying up passed my bedtime eating cheese and watching Fry & Laurie sketches on Youtube.

This reflection has really brought nothing to light for me. I'm still uncomfortable at the thought of people sensing that I am purposely alienating myself but I'm even more uncomfortable at the idea of doing things I don't like, that cost money and make me feel physically unhappy just to make someone else not feel bad about their own choices.

I suspect that compromises are in order and I don't like those either.

Making fun of religious people. Again.

Found this article while doing research for a presentation at work. It's an excerpt from a book called Dressing with Dignity by Colleen Hammond, published by TAN Books. . Most of it is a review of women's fashions, starting with Adam and Eve and ending with the effect on trousers in marketing.

It seems that when women wear trousers, men's eyes immediately follow the line up their legs to the inevitable "woman's most private and intimate area. Not her face! Not her chest!". Apparently "Men's eyes will follow the lines right up her legs and finish the picture in their imagination. Women's eyes may do the same thing, but since women don't have the same type of temptations, their imaginations don't complete the picture in the same way as men's do."

This is my absolute favourite quote out of the article:

"When a woman is wearing pants, a man's eyes will (much to his embarrassment) fall to a woman's crotch. These men also pointed out that it is something that happens without their wanting to do it, or without their realizing it. It's the nature of men "to look" ... and they do!"

Transhumanists and American Princesses

An article about cyborgs, body modification and self-mutilation in Slate Magazine, mentions George Dvorsky, President of the Toronto Transhumanist Association. He "wants to use cyber- and biotechnology to elevate all animals to human status" [From Slate].

I think this is silly, selfish, a waste of time and plays to an idea, pervasive among uneducated and self absorbed individuals who don't understand that evolution does not have an ultimate goal or direction and therefore, one species is not "better" than another. All your genes want to do is reproduce and they don't care why or how. These same individuals also haven't stop to think that not everyone wants to be just like them and despite lacking the right design to speak, compute complex equations or make pancakes, they might not need to in order to be happy.

How about using common decency to elevate all animals to human status? Or even, dare I say it, elevate all
humans to human status?

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Actually, upon reading this article about participants int the WE TV show American Princess, I might need to take that last statement back. I want these people out of my species, particularly the one that said,

"Getting a British title would make things a lot easier, I could put it on my card or my résumé."

Won't someone please think of the cupcakes!

According to todays New York Times, schools in this country are finally getting on Jamie Oliver's bandwagon and improving the food served in cafeterias. Unfortunately, this means that some schools are no longer allowing cupcakes to be served during birthday celebrations. Texas has taken measures to make sure this possibly psychologically damaging atrocity won't happen to their children and enacted the Safe Cupcake Amendment, adding it to the states nutrition policy.

Really. The states nutrition policy.

Don't Texas parents have something better to do than lobby to save cupcakes? For example, instilling the value of good nutrition and a healthy lifestyle for their children?