CNN.com reports that a British mobile phone service is going to start condensing classic works of literature into SMS messages. So now Hamlet, instead of decrying his immortal, "To be or not to be?" will bark out "2B? Nt2B?"
I am so depressed.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
The Vending Machine Blues
Hello, and welcome to an all-new episode of "Frogg's Legs: Adventures in Non-Cooking," hosted by yours truly.
Today's topic, based on my own most recent culinary experiences, is: "Quick Meals for the Busy Professional; or, Don't Underestimate the Power of the Vending Machine."
Of course, if you are a Busy Professional, you are probably not reading this because you are so busy. In which case, I refer you to one of my upcoming episodes, entitled: "Do Not Take Your Blackberry On Vacation, You Psychotic Overachiever. Please." (I realize that has nothing to do with cooking, but I don't care.)
But back to today's show. I'm here to tell you that vending machines, when put to proper use, can save valuable time, and provide important nutritional nutrients, such as Vitamin B12 and Riboflavin. Also chocolate. What more does anyone really need to get through a full workday? I ask you.
Let's take a look at what I ate today as an illustration of what I mean, shall we?
Breakfast: Vending machine Pop Tarts.
I didn't have time for breakfast this morning because I overslept and was desperately trying to get out of the house before 7:30am, so that I could get stuck in bad traffic instead of hideously-horrendous-bad-evil traffic. But I knew there was no reason to fear that I would miss out on the most important meal of the day-- after all, the vending machine at work carries strawberry Pop Tarts! Strawberry=fruit=healthy. So far my day was off to a great culinary start!
Lunch: Vending machine Cheez-Its and vending machine Diet Dr. Pepper.
This mouth-watering treat for the tastebuds came about because I had been given a copywriting assignment at work--my first one. Naturally that meant that I was suddenly inundated with massive amounts of proofreading jobs that demanded my attention, since after all I am the full-time proofreader. So that meant that I had to give up my lunch hour to do the copywriting assigment, because I didn't have any other time to do it. Once again, the vending machine came to the rescue! Cheezits=dairy=healthy. Diet Dr. Pepper=diet=healthy. AND I had the added benefit of an award-winning taste combination! Mmmm-mmmmm!
Afternoon snack: Vending machine Hostess Zingers
When all you've had is Cheezits and Diet Dr. Pepper for lunch, you might find yourself feeling a little peckish (i.e., fainting) come mid-afternoon, so it's time for a snack. I chose Hostess Zingers. Chocolate=delicious=who cares if it's healthy? I had my dairy and fruit group already, so leave me alone! And give me back my Zingers!
Er, sorry. All this healthy food made me a little delirious for a second there. I am better now. Moving on...
That's the end of our show! I hope you learned a thing or two. Until next time, this is the frogg, collapsing in a sugar-induced coma onto her bed. Hopefully she will wake up tomorrow. If you don't hear from her after a few days, DON'T EAT ANYTHING FROM YOUR VENDING MACHINE.
Today's topic, based on my own most recent culinary experiences, is: "Quick Meals for the Busy Professional; or, Don't Underestimate the Power of the Vending Machine."
Of course, if you are a Busy Professional, you are probably not reading this because you are so busy. In which case, I refer you to one of my upcoming episodes, entitled: "Do Not Take Your Blackberry On Vacation, You Psychotic Overachiever. Please." (I realize that has nothing to do with cooking, but I don't care.)
But back to today's show. I'm here to tell you that vending machines, when put to proper use, can save valuable time, and provide important nutritional nutrients, such as Vitamin B12 and Riboflavin. Also chocolate. What more does anyone really need to get through a full workday? I ask you.
Let's take a look at what I ate today as an illustration of what I mean, shall we?
Breakfast: Vending machine Pop Tarts.
I didn't have time for breakfast this morning because I overslept and was desperately trying to get out of the house before 7:30am, so that I could get stuck in bad traffic instead of hideously-horrendous-bad-evil traffic. But I knew there was no reason to fear that I would miss out on the most important meal of the day-- after all, the vending machine at work carries strawberry Pop Tarts! Strawberry=fruit=healthy. So far my day was off to a great culinary start!
Lunch: Vending machine Cheez-Its and vending machine Diet Dr. Pepper.
This mouth-watering treat for the tastebuds came about because I had been given a copywriting assignment at work--my first one. Naturally that meant that I was suddenly inundated with massive amounts of proofreading jobs that demanded my attention, since after all I am the full-time proofreader. So that meant that I had to give up my lunch hour to do the copywriting assigment, because I didn't have any other time to do it. Once again, the vending machine came to the rescue! Cheezits=dairy=healthy. Diet Dr. Pepper=diet=healthy. AND I had the added benefit of an award-winning taste combination! Mmmm-mmmmm!
Afternoon snack: Vending machine Hostess Zingers
When all you've had is Cheezits and Diet Dr. Pepper for lunch, you might find yourself feeling a little peckish (i.e., fainting) come mid-afternoon, so it's time for a snack. I chose Hostess Zingers. Chocolate=delicious=who cares if it's healthy? I had my dairy and fruit group already, so leave me alone! And give me back my Zingers!
Er, sorry. All this healthy food made me a little delirious for a second there. I am better now. Moving on...
That's the end of our show! I hope you learned a thing or two. Until next time, this is the frogg, collapsing in a sugar-induced coma onto her bed. Hopefully she will wake up tomorrow. If you don't hear from her after a few days, DON'T EAT ANYTHING FROM YOUR VENDING MACHINE.
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Not Appropriate for Younger Viewers
Every day on my company's internal web site, they feature tips and tricks of the direct marketing trade, including a marketing term of the day. Today's term is (and I am not making this up)--"Hickey."
I would tell you what it means in marketing terms but Safari cannot find the page when I click on the link. Which is too bad, because for once I am quite eager to learn the meaning of a marketing term. Who would've thought.
(By the way, this was almost as good as what happened to my brother last week, when he was online checking the status on a flight he was taking for a business trip. Suddenly he started laughing and called out, "Oh my gosh! Check this out!!" I came into the room and looked over his shoulder to see that his confirmation code--and here I must ask any of our younger readers to close their innocent eyes--was "FHUCKU." Now really, Alaska Airlines, what sort of customer service is THAT?!)
I would tell you what it means in marketing terms but Safari cannot find the page when I click on the link. Which is too bad, because for once I am quite eager to learn the meaning of a marketing term. Who would've thought.
(By the way, this was almost as good as what happened to my brother last week, when he was online checking the status on a flight he was taking for a business trip. Suddenly he started laughing and called out, "Oh my gosh! Check this out!!" I came into the room and looked over his shoulder to see that his confirmation code--and here I must ask any of our younger readers to close their innocent eyes--was "FHUCKU." Now really, Alaska Airlines, what sort of customer service is THAT?!)
Monday, November 14, 2005
While I'm Driving
So I have noticed a disturbing habit that I am developing as I make this horrendous commute every day; namely, the habit of talking aloud. Obviously that would not be disturbing if there were, say, another human being in the vehicle, but as there is not, it's probably a little weird.
I have also started playing the license plate game with myself, because I've spotted quite a few out-of-state plates on my commute every day. Like today, for example, I saw Connecticut (at which point I said aloud to myself, "YEEESS!! Connecticut!" See? I told you, it's disturbing!), South Carolina, Texas, Illinois, and Florida. And that was just today! I've also spied New York, Georgia, Kentucky, Oklahoma, Nevada, and North Carolina. Fun!
Other things I see on my way to/from work:
- a cemetery.
- Mulholland Drive.
- Warner Brothers Studios (across the street from the cemetery...hmmm).
- CBS studios.
- CNN building.
-a dinosaur breaking through a roof and eating a giant clock (you don't believe me, but I don't care, it's true).
- Farmer's Market at 3rd and Fairfax (which is a Historical Landmark, since 1934! Whoa! Hey now, that's old for Cali).
- Kodak Theater, near the intersection of Hollywood and Highland (where you can also walk along the famed Walk of Fame, and look at the stars on the sidewalk, with talented people's names on them, like Britney Spears and Bugs Bunny).
Well, I suppose some might call it the scenic route, especially some who might be alot more interested in The Industry (i.e., movie biz) than I am, but there's nothing along the way that I particularly care to see. Except the dinosaur, maybe. That's kind of cool.
(You still don't believe me, but it's still true!)
I have also started playing the license plate game with myself, because I've spotted quite a few out-of-state plates on my commute every day. Like today, for example, I saw Connecticut (at which point I said aloud to myself, "YEEESS!! Connecticut!" See? I told you, it's disturbing!), South Carolina, Texas, Illinois, and Florida. And that was just today! I've also spied New York, Georgia, Kentucky, Oklahoma, Nevada, and North Carolina. Fun!
Other things I see on my way to/from work:
- a cemetery.
- Mulholland Drive.
- Warner Brothers Studios (across the street from the cemetery...hmmm).
- CBS studios.
- CNN building.
-a dinosaur breaking through a roof and eating a giant clock (you don't believe me, but I don't care, it's true).
- Farmer's Market at 3rd and Fairfax (which is a Historical Landmark, since 1934! Whoa! Hey now, that's old for Cali).
- Kodak Theater, near the intersection of Hollywood and Highland (where you can also walk along the famed Walk of Fame, and look at the stars on the sidewalk, with talented people's names on them, like Britney Spears and Bugs Bunny).
Well, I suppose some might call it the scenic route, especially some who might be alot more interested in The Industry (i.e., movie biz) than I am, but there's nothing along the way that I particularly care to see. Except the dinosaur, maybe. That's kind of cool.
(You still don't believe me, but it's still true!)
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Thinking About Church
In church today, while we were singing one of the songs, I suddenly had a flashback to my time in Thailand two years ago, and a night when I attended a worship service among Thai Christians who were jumping up and down as they sang loud praises to God, in a room with no walls. They sang in Thai, but I knew some of the songs in English, and though I knew little of any of the people around me, I felt a unity with them that made me smile.
There was a simple beauty in that moment, in that place, that I have let myself forget in the intervening time, growing disillusioned as I have with myself, my faith, and my God. I was glad for the reminder today.
I don't know why I go to church sometimes. But after remembering that moment in Thailand, I thought that maybe part of it is because I can look around and see the antidote to my pride, my arrogance, my critical judgmentalism. What is that antidote? It is...other people. Ah, they can be the poison, too, I don't deny it. But I believe in grace--ah, grace, the undeserved favor of a God who loves people regardless of whether they always love him back. And I cannot believe in grace as an abstract theory, but as a vital reality working itself out in people's lives. And so the antidote, the cure, is in knowing that if God can work miracles in me (and I pray that he does), he must be working them in the people around me--even the ones I see in church! And none of them are perfect yet, and lots of them might annoy, bore, or anger me, but perhaps I do the same to them. God knows what he forgives me for, every single day.
It's true that I still do not like "church," the formal, programmed routine with its endless join-the-club type activities that takes up Sunday mornings and various weeknights in buildings across the country, and around the world. But I don't believe that God hates it. I believe he is sorry about it, but he is able, as I rarely am, to look past the program, the imperfections, the posturings, the studied piety, and see individual hearts that are broken, weary, and struggling to be good and love him--just like mine.
I would do better to remember that more often, than to recite the critiques and grievances that are so often nothing more than the litany of my spiteful arrogance.
I am glad that God is love.
There was a simple beauty in that moment, in that place, that I have let myself forget in the intervening time, growing disillusioned as I have with myself, my faith, and my God. I was glad for the reminder today.
I don't know why I go to church sometimes. But after remembering that moment in Thailand, I thought that maybe part of it is because I can look around and see the antidote to my pride, my arrogance, my critical judgmentalism. What is that antidote? It is...other people. Ah, they can be the poison, too, I don't deny it. But I believe in grace--ah, grace, the undeserved favor of a God who loves people regardless of whether they always love him back. And I cannot believe in grace as an abstract theory, but as a vital reality working itself out in people's lives. And so the antidote, the cure, is in knowing that if God can work miracles in me (and I pray that he does), he must be working them in the people around me--even the ones I see in church! And none of them are perfect yet, and lots of them might annoy, bore, or anger me, but perhaps I do the same to them. God knows what he forgives me for, every single day.
It's true that I still do not like "church," the formal, programmed routine with its endless join-the-club type activities that takes up Sunday mornings and various weeknights in buildings across the country, and around the world. But I don't believe that God hates it. I believe he is sorry about it, but he is able, as I rarely am, to look past the program, the imperfections, the posturings, the studied piety, and see individual hearts that are broken, weary, and struggling to be good and love him--just like mine.
I would do better to remember that more often, than to recite the critiques and grievances that are so often nothing more than the litany of my spiteful arrogance.
I am glad that God is love.
Friday, November 04, 2005
Los Angeles; or, Descent into the Seventh Circle of Commuter Hell
It doesn't really matter where you are trying to get to in Los Angeles; you are bound to spend at least an hour in your car (aka the iron coffin). Ask an Angeleno, "How far away is it?" and you will get the answer in terms of minutes, not miles. If you insist on knowing the distance, all you will get is a blank stare, and some half-hearted attempts at guessing. No one ever knows distances to anything in this city, but people are remarkably good at estimating how long it will take to get there.
"You need to go to the grocery store? 45 minutes."
"But...it's just down the street..."
"It's rush hour."
"It's 3pm!"
"Rush hour is 6am-8pm."
"But...but that's all day!"
"What's your point?"
Basically, there are two rules of travel when within the environs of Los Angeles: 1) assume traffic, and 2) assume traffic will be really bad. If you do that, you will help to decrease your road rage levels just a little bit, because you won't be at all surprised when you find yourself going 0-5mph on a three-lane street or a six-lane highway. You'll do what I do; namely, put one side of your iPod headphones into one of your ears (not both, because that's definitely illegal, whereas one is only marginally so!), and sing along to music. You might also call lots of your friends. (And if you are huffing and puffing about people driving while on their cell phones, believe me, you need to experience LA traffic every single day--you'll start using your cell phone in your car too, because it's probably the only time you'll have to talk to your friends anymore. Besides, how unsafe can it be? You're only going 0mph.)
There really is so much you can do while "driving" 50 mph less than the speed limit. Over the years I've seen people reading the newspaper, shaving, brushing their teeth, etc. Maybe you'll write a book. I bet you could write a whole novel in the time it would take you to get from Pasadena to, say, Westwood on a Friday night. (You could write two if you take the 405.)
Distance and time are so out of sync in this town, they might as well get together and form a ragtime band. On Saturday night, I drove to Ventura, which is about 70 miles away from my house (and I only know that because Mapquest said so!). It took me a little over an hour, which is perfectly reasonable. Now, compare that to last night, when I left work at 6pm and it took me an hour and 20 minutes to drive to my piano teacher's house...12 miles away.
Sigh...
Oh well. Happy Friday, everybody. Here's to the weekend at last! It couldn't come fast enough for me...but that's probably because it got stuck in LA traffic.
"You need to go to the grocery store? 45 minutes."
"But...it's just down the street..."
"It's rush hour."
"It's 3pm!"
"Rush hour is 6am-8pm."
"But...but that's all day!"
"What's your point?"
Basically, there are two rules of travel when within the environs of Los Angeles: 1) assume traffic, and 2) assume traffic will be really bad. If you do that, you will help to decrease your road rage levels just a little bit, because you won't be at all surprised when you find yourself going 0-5mph on a three-lane street or a six-lane highway. You'll do what I do; namely, put one side of your iPod headphones into one of your ears (not both, because that's definitely illegal, whereas one is only marginally so!), and sing along to music. You might also call lots of your friends. (And if you are huffing and puffing about people driving while on their cell phones, believe me, you need to experience LA traffic every single day--you'll start using your cell phone in your car too, because it's probably the only time you'll have to talk to your friends anymore. Besides, how unsafe can it be? You're only going 0mph.)
There really is so much you can do while "driving" 50 mph less than the speed limit. Over the years I've seen people reading the newspaper, shaving, brushing their teeth, etc. Maybe you'll write a book. I bet you could write a whole novel in the time it would take you to get from Pasadena to, say, Westwood on a Friday night. (You could write two if you take the 405.)
Distance and time are so out of sync in this town, they might as well get together and form a ragtime band. On Saturday night, I drove to Ventura, which is about 70 miles away from my house (and I only know that because Mapquest said so!). It took me a little over an hour, which is perfectly reasonable. Now, compare that to last night, when I left work at 6pm and it took me an hour and 20 minutes to drive to my piano teacher's house...12 miles away.
Sigh...
Oh well. Happy Friday, everybody. Here's to the weekend at last! It couldn't come fast enough for me...but that's probably because it got stuck in LA traffic.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Oh for Snow!
In the lunchroom today, leafing through the LA Times, I found a special section on the upcoming snow season, and I have just two words to say:
Bring it, baby.
Oh wait, that's three. Well, now you know why I mostly flunked math all my life.
But thankfully you don't have to be good at math to be good at snowboarding, because then I'd hate it, and I just love it.
Uh, yeah. Anyway.
The last time I went snowboarding was quite memorable--well, for me; for one of the friends I went with, it wasn't, because, well, he lost his memory. I think to this day he is not quite certain if he had a good time, though I assure him that it really was an epic day, at least up until the point where we were racing down a nice long run and he took a bad fall, knocked himself in the head, got a concussion, got amnesia, had to go to ski patrol, then ride in an ambulance to the hospital, and eventually go home still not knowing who the president of the United States was or why he was in the mountains that day in the first place.
But thankfully he did indeed recover, although I think he wishes he could have enough of a relapse to forget about his hospital bill--oops.
Ah, good times on the slopes. And no doubt there will be more to come this season, though hopefully with a little less pain and suffering. Stay tuned!
Bring it, baby.
Oh wait, that's three. Well, now you know why I mostly flunked math all my life.
But thankfully you don't have to be good at math to be good at snowboarding, because then I'd hate it, and I just love it.
Uh, yeah. Anyway.
The last time I went snowboarding was quite memorable--well, for me; for one of the friends I went with, it wasn't, because, well, he lost his memory. I think to this day he is not quite certain if he had a good time, though I assure him that it really was an epic day, at least up until the point where we were racing down a nice long run and he took a bad fall, knocked himself in the head, got a concussion, got amnesia, had to go to ski patrol, then ride in an ambulance to the hospital, and eventually go home still not knowing who the president of the United States was or why he was in the mountains that day in the first place.
But thankfully he did indeed recover, although I think he wishes he could have enough of a relapse to forget about his hospital bill--oops.
Ah, good times on the slopes. And no doubt there will be more to come this season, though hopefully with a little less pain and suffering. Stay tuned!
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