-- Weekend plans: going to RF's house today, going to see the Music Man Sunday, going to sleep and lounge as much as possible. Hey, how IS that tasty punch spelled? Pronounced "wahp" so we could just spell it like that.
Which leads to next topic, Halloween: I am going as a Gypsy, or fortune teller, or whatever. I have provided myself with a makeshift crystal ball, which can be flipped over and filled with tasty beverages. Also, fortune telling cards (not Tarot) and other sundries.
Saturday, October 29
Friday, October 28
Haiku Friday
Avocado ranch
Double stack quesadillas
mmm mmm so so good
Both of y'all pussies!
HA! Its funny cause its true!
Much love! Peace out kids!
(ha that's 2 haikus! I'm so good!)
Double stack quesadillas
mmm mmm so so good
Both of y'all pussies!
HA! Its funny cause its true!
Much love! Peace out kids!
(ha that's 2 haikus! I'm so good!)
Thursday, October 27
Unsatisfying fortune cookies
Lately (over the past several months, really) I've had a spate of bad fortune cookies. Stale, crumbly, untasty. The fortunes have been open to interpretation, and not perhaps as sanguine as one would wish a dessert item's prognostications to be.
Here is an example.
"You have a capacity for enjoying life." This capacity renders the unremitting grimness of your existence all the more tragic. Oh, Lee Ann Chin fortune cookie, why did you have to say what we were both thinking?
Of course, when I start using words like 'unremitting', 'sanguine' and anything so needlessly polysyllabic as 'prognostication'... it's probably time to go out for a beer.
Here is an example.
"You have a capacity for enjoying life." This capacity renders the unremitting grimness of your existence all the more tragic. Oh, Lee Ann Chin fortune cookie, why did you have to say what we were both thinking?
Of course, when I start using words like 'unremitting', 'sanguine' and anything so needlessly polysyllabic as 'prognostication'... it's probably time to go out for a beer.
How to...
CityPages directed me to this. Have you guys seen it before? Become a Republican. Funny, true, a little strident for my taste.
Wednesday, October 26
Capsule review of "Elizabethtown"
Ahem. It mostly sucked, but most of the time it wasn't painfully bad. My expectations were low, and I was not disappointed. The lead actors were very pretty but bland, and the music and everything else was one cliche after another. (is that a cliche too?)
I closed my eyes and tried to sleep during the most boring or annoying bits. At least one of my friends was disappointed. One other was perfectly content, because it had the requisite cheesy happy ending, and her taste runs to crap generally.
I closed my eyes and tried to sleep during the most boring or annoying bits. At least one of my friends was disappointed. One other was perfectly content, because it had the requisite cheesy happy ending, and her taste runs to crap generally.
Monday, October 24
Oh, swoon.
It appears that today the hit counter on this humble blog will top the 1000 mark. I'm not sure that I care, but I am sure that no one else does.
In other boring news, you can now e-mail Jerry. The link is with the other links, under the heading "Links." Well, you can e-mail me, and I'll read it to him or Crapnasty probably will, because Jerry lives with her. Yep, it's like that.
I went to Fargo this weekend for my mom's birthday. I enjoy the drive, but the radio stations after Alex suck. Kicked up some leaves with the nephew and neices. My brother made a non-traditional but tasty cake, I think he made it in a bar pan. It was a little crispy at the edges and expertly frosted by the girls. Mo appropriated my make up bag and gave me a little makeover, while mom took pictures. Yeah! Three shades of eyeliner, on various parts of my face, the hot new look.
In other boring news, you can now e-mail Jerry. The link is with the other links, under the heading "Links." Well, you can e-mail me, and I'll read it to him or Crapnasty probably will, because Jerry lives with her. Yep, it's like that.
I went to Fargo this weekend for my mom's birthday. I enjoy the drive, but the radio stations after Alex suck. Kicked up some leaves with the nephew and neices. My brother made a non-traditional but tasty cake, I think he made it in a bar pan. It was a little crispy at the edges and expertly frosted by the girls. Mo appropriated my make up bag and gave me a little makeover, while mom took pictures. Yeah! Three shades of eyeliner, on various parts of my face, the hot new look.
Friday, October 21
Poetry: leaping like live drops of rain.
Poetry is the clear expression of mixed feelings. -W.H. Auden, poet(1907-1973)
See you all on iambic pentameter Wednesday!
See you all on iambic pentameter Wednesday!
Inadvertent haiku
From Rainbow Flyer, upon being asked if he would be contributing a poem for Haiku Friday:
I don't get haikus
I do not care about it
Won't pretend I do.
I don't get haikus
I do not care about it
Won't pretend I do.
Thursday, October 20
Notes from the job search
_I hate looking for a job.
Once or twice a week, when someone else leaves, goes on an interview, talks over their prospects, a little frisson of panic creeps up my spine. For a couple of hours I'll look at job websites, look at my resume, read MSN articles on cover letters and corporate survival. I assure myself that I'm really getting started. I spent ten minutes inspecting various papers, linen, cotton, 24 lb, 32 lb, at Office Depot. You probably don't need me to tell you I haven't gotten much done.
Today I printed a few copies of my resume (thanks for the paper Rainbow!). There's a job fair at a major employer in town that is expanding. I was going to go, but no. My reasons are probably just excuses, so I won't bother going into it. I'm going for a walk instead.
Once or twice a week, when someone else leaves, goes on an interview, talks over their prospects, a little frisson of panic creeps up my spine. For a couple of hours I'll look at job websites, look at my resume, read MSN articles on cover letters and corporate survival. I assure myself that I'm really getting started. I spent ten minutes inspecting various papers, linen, cotton, 24 lb, 32 lb, at Office Depot. You probably don't need me to tell you I haven't gotten much done.
Today I printed a few copies of my resume (thanks for the paper Rainbow!). There's a job fair at a major employer in town that is expanding. I was going to go, but no. My reasons are probably just excuses, so I won't bother going into it. I'm going for a walk instead.
Wednesday, October 19
Breathe fire. Just like a DRAGON.
I was just reading Voix de Michèle, and decided to add her to the links. She has a good list of blogging guidelines for writers, and she links to another rules list too. Maybe I'll cobble my own list together from both of them, and become a better blogger. I feel the self-improvement compulsion coming along again.
I was looking at scrapbooking stuff at the craft store this morning, during a break in my walk. I'm more the type who wishes they could be crafty, than actually are. (Wow. I thought about re-writing that last sentence but I just had to leave it as is.) I'd like to do stuff, but I don't. I was thinking if I pick up enough good or at least industrious habits, I can take back, maybe, one bad habit.
Like smoking. I have been thinking about smoking for the past two days. It started with the observation that the quotidian details of my day have changed very much since I quit. Two breaks and lunch at work, not standing outside, but having to find something to do, someone to chat with. Not standing out in the rain. Not stopping at the gas station every three days, or bumming from a co-worker who smokes menthols. A little more money in my pockets, in theory anyway. My hair and clothes and car don't smell like an ashtray.
The first time I got a cold (& eventually sinus infection) after quitting, I coughed my friggin lungs out, because, according to the nice doctor man, the cilia in my lungs are coming back. For a week, I would lay in bed at night, coughing for what felt like hours, sure I was getting asthma. Or tuberculosis. Or lung cancer. Late night hypochondria.
I hardly every go out on the balcony at my new apartment, because I don't need to in order to smoke. I still feel like I need something to do with my hands at restaurants and bars, but I have gone back to my pre-smoking (high school) habits of fidgeting, playing with menus, shredding food, lighting matches, reading every word of every flier, "specials" placard & sign on the wall.
What else sent me on this train of thought? I got a voicemail from a friend in Colorado, I thought about my trip there this spring, smoking, having a couple of beers and relaxing. The other friend who made the trip with me picked up 'social smoking' again after quitting years ago. The taste of Nat Sherman naturals, rich and complex, like strong coffee or a Guinness or deep deep red wine. Indulging myself by smoking too much, just like one might with booze or food or... something else.
One of my favorite reasons to smoke: a way to get away. To stand in the rain, get some silence, for a goddamn change. "Oh, I don't want to bother you with my smoke, I'll just step outside." I've taken to accompanying smokers outside once or twice (most memorably with J.J. at the Mall of America). But I was too tempted to smoke, even took a drag once.
I was looking at scrapbooking stuff at the craft store this morning, during a break in my walk. I'm more the type who wishes they could be crafty, than actually are. (Wow. I thought about re-writing that last sentence but I just had to leave it as is.) I'd like to do stuff, but I don't. I was thinking if I pick up enough good or at least industrious habits, I can take back, maybe, one bad habit.
Like smoking. I have been thinking about smoking for the past two days. It started with the observation that the quotidian details of my day have changed very much since I quit. Two breaks and lunch at work, not standing outside, but having to find something to do, someone to chat with. Not standing out in the rain. Not stopping at the gas station every three days, or bumming from a co-worker who smokes menthols. A little more money in my pockets, in theory anyway. My hair and clothes and car don't smell like an ashtray.
The first time I got a cold (& eventually sinus infection) after quitting, I coughed my friggin lungs out, because, according to the nice doctor man, the cilia in my lungs are coming back. For a week, I would lay in bed at night, coughing for what felt like hours, sure I was getting asthma. Or tuberculosis. Or lung cancer. Late night hypochondria.
I hardly every go out on the balcony at my new apartment, because I don't need to in order to smoke. I still feel like I need something to do with my hands at restaurants and bars, but I have gone back to my pre-smoking (high school) habits of fidgeting, playing with menus, shredding food, lighting matches, reading every word of every flier, "specials" placard & sign on the wall.
What else sent me on this train of thought? I got a voicemail from a friend in Colorado, I thought about my trip there this spring, smoking, having a couple of beers and relaxing. The other friend who made the trip with me picked up 'social smoking' again after quitting years ago. The taste of Nat Sherman naturals, rich and complex, like strong coffee or a Guinness or deep deep red wine. Indulging myself by smoking too much, just like one might with booze or food or... something else.
One of my favorite reasons to smoke: a way to get away. To stand in the rain, get some silence, for a goddamn change. "Oh, I don't want to bother you with my smoke, I'll just step outside." I've taken to accompanying smokers outside once or twice (most memorably with J.J. at the Mall of America). But I was too tempted to smoke, even took a drag once.
Tuesday, October 18
Tales of roommates past...
Recently, Doll, an acquaintance from back in the long, long ago, reminisced with me. Her summer roommate, an exchange student named Fairzana or Falnaja or something, took a liking to my name and wandered through the apartment crooning "Soooomething Dirtyyy" like some cracked up ghost. She was weird, to put it concisely.
Her delightful shenaningans are comparable with Ms. Harris, of the 'you don't DESERVE cake,' the phone book thing (what was that again?), and other adventures.
I was going to go on in this vein, but... I think most readers have heard enough of my roommate stories. A final note, the lady reminding me about Foreignza was the same girl who wouldn't let her roommates use her garbage can because they weren't tidy enough with it. That's right, she pulled her garbage can into her room.
People are awesome. We've all been the crazy or super-annoying one at one time or another. Right?
Her delightful shenaningans are comparable with Ms. Harris, of the 'you don't DESERVE cake,' the phone book thing (what was that again?), and other adventures.
I was going to go on in this vein, but... I think most readers have heard enough of my roommate stories. A final note, the lady reminding me about Foreignza was the same girl who wouldn't let her roommates use her garbage can because they weren't tidy enough with it. That's right, she pulled her garbage can into her room.
People are awesome. We've all been the crazy or super-annoying one at one time or another. Right?
Monday, October 17
Ooh baby baby
I was at a baby shower yesterday for a good friend. She's been married for...3 years I think? Damn.
Two guests who were recent new mothers began sharing their 'cute' stories of emergency c-sections, vomiting, episiotomy, various scars and traumas. "Did you throw up? I threw up so much!" One woman shared the following insight: "Can you imagine if you didn't know your husband? It would be so embarassing!" I guess it would be. Huh. Thanks for sharing, lady.
I had a hard time finding the place -- Yahoo maps lied! It said the turn was 0.7 miles down the road, more like 2 or 3 times that, by which time I was starting to hyperventilate. Better yet, I was looking for Meadow Oak Dr, and I saw Meadow Oak Av first, turned there, then I saw Meadow Oak LANE. The streets of Monticello need to shut the hell up.
I also got to see the pictures from my friends' wedding. T.V. got a photographer who had a sort of arty/journalistic style. Of course, I was mostly looking for pictures of me. Der. I only hated the way I looked in half of them, which is better than I expected.
Two guests who were recent new mothers began sharing their 'cute' stories of emergency c-sections, vomiting, episiotomy, various scars and traumas. "Did you throw up? I threw up so much!" One woman shared the following insight: "Can you imagine if you didn't know your husband? It would be so embarassing!" I guess it would be. Huh. Thanks for sharing, lady.
I had a hard time finding the place -- Yahoo maps lied! It said the turn was 0.7 miles down the road, more like 2 or 3 times that, by which time I was starting to hyperventilate. Better yet, I was looking for Meadow Oak Dr, and I saw Meadow Oak Av first, turned there, then I saw Meadow Oak LANE. The streets of Monticello need to shut the hell up.
I also got to see the pictures from my friends' wedding. T.V. got a photographer who had a sort of arty/journalistic style. Of course, I was mostly looking for pictures of me. Der. I only hated the way I looked in half of them, which is better than I expected.
Saturday, October 15
Miscellany
Here's a bunch of stuff that I've saved up in my e-mail. Why, I don't know anymore. Hey, at least I've stopped e-mailing it to people, I'll post up here and you can just not read it, without having to delete it too.
Did you know...
fishers (fishermen, fisherpeople) usually harvest caviar from dead fish? Poor fishies. I never thought about it, as a non-consumer of fish eggs. I do remember that help-wanted website radio ad "You squeeze the feesh" in a heavy Russian accent.
advice to job-seekers is often discouraging, confusing and contradictory? Maybe it's not so at all, it's just how I'm feeling this week.
that I'm eating mint chocolate chip ice cream right now?
that Krissy brought ice cream to work today?
my ice cream is getting all melty?
"really, the more we discover new stuff, the stupider we get" ? Dahlia Lithwick is another entry in the sporadic series on writers I like pretty well. Intelligent design does it all!
Amsterdam is very gezellig?
"Gossip isn't just useless blather"? I would link to it, but it's from the NYT, so it's archived now. Gossip strengthens social bonds (duh) but more interesting, establishes boundaries, and enforces unspoken rules in groups. It's done equally by both genders, often in different ways and for different purposes.
Hey, this is one of those annoying blogs where, like, every other work is a hyperlink whatchacallit. I hate myself so very very much. (See "If these words were people, I would embrace their genocide.")
More fun!
City Pages has a wonderful list of blogs, if you can't find enough crap to read on the internet. I found some interesting new stuff.
Also, I miss TM already. Whyyy must everyone leeeeave?
Also, I miss TM already. Whyyy must everyone leeeeave?
Friday, October 14
The Pious and Humble Man Who Is Descended From the Devil, Secretary of Homeland Security
Haiku Friday... or "That's why, silly."
Sestet Saturday?
Why not Triolet Tuesday?
They're harder to write.
Encomium on a website.
Excellent website.
I love me some McSweeney's.
The lists are the best.
Hackiest Haiku Ever,
or: Trent, From Swingers, Performs an Exorcism
EX-NAZI NEIGHBOR.
Your New Personal Trainer.
Shut-In Detectives.
Sestet Saturday?
Why not Triolet Tuesday?
They're harder to write.
Encomium on a website.
Excellent website.
I love me some McSweeney's.
The lists are the best.
Hackiest Haiku Ever,
or: Trent, From Swingers, Performs an Exorcism
EX-NAZI NEIGHBOR.
Your New Personal Trainer.
Shut-In Detectives.
Friday, October 7
Somebody post something
All the zing has gone out of this blog stuff. I'm just posting because there hasn't been one since Monday. Please, somebody else post! So when I come to this page I don't have to look at my own thoughts. Or make a snappy comment on a post, that would be fine too.
I'm sort of hoping that when we all work elsewhere, whenever that happens, we can use these things to keep in touch a little bit. Organize potlucks, skeeball tournaments, that sort of thing -- set up over blog! But we'd have to work out a code so strangers don't show up! This is a credible risk!
Despair.com is a lot of fun, you should go there. Or hell. You could go there too.
Monday, October 3
Monday the funday
Must remember, being busy makes day go faster. Stupid billing calls. How 'bout reading the bill before calling in with questions? Save us both some time. The plaintive yet boring cry of the CSR.
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