I've been trying for the past half hour to think of something to write, but my heart isn't in it. Hopefully I'll be in a better mood tomorrow.
Sorry, gang.
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
Looking Forward to Thanksgiving
At last, Thanksgiving is almost here! I'm particularly excited this year, because I've missed out on Thanksgiving the last two years, being overseas. I missed Christmas too, but I think not having Thanksgiving was harder in a way. I mean, Christmas at least still gets celebrated in other countries. Thanksgiving? Not so much. Which is a bummer, because what a great holiday! Family, friends, food...oh yeah! I am STOKED.
My sister the cowgirl has been unaccountably domestic this season. She went out and bought all all these decorations and candles and things, including raffia. What the heck IS raffia? But all this festivity was not without a price, and I'm not just talking about money--read all about her adventures in bargain shopping on her blog. All I can say is, sanity is a terrible thing to waste on, and I quote from her post, "cheap junk."
But through her heroic efforts, and no thanks whatsoever to me, our dining table looks pretty awesome. It's a good thing the cowgirl is living here actually, because I don't know the first thing about decorating or domestication. (I admit that, at this stage of my life, it is probably a wilful, determined ignorance. I'm stubborn, what can I say.)
So anyway, here's to a happy Thanksgiving. Remember to enjoy it and to find things to be thankful for, even in the midst of family craziness, of which there is always a guaranteed generous portion--at least in our house.
Take care, be safe if you're travelling, and have an awesome holiday.
My sister the cowgirl has been unaccountably domestic this season. She went out and bought all all these decorations and candles and things, including raffia. What the heck IS raffia? But all this festivity was not without a price, and I'm not just talking about money--read all about her adventures in bargain shopping on her blog. All I can say is, sanity is a terrible thing to waste on, and I quote from her post, "cheap junk."
But through her heroic efforts, and no thanks whatsoever to me, our dining table looks pretty awesome. It's a good thing the cowgirl is living here actually, because I don't know the first thing about decorating or domestication. (I admit that, at this stage of my life, it is probably a wilful, determined ignorance. I'm stubborn, what can I say.)
So anyway, here's to a happy Thanksgiving. Remember to enjoy it and to find things to be thankful for, even in the midst of family craziness, of which there is always a guaranteed generous portion--at least in our house.
Take care, be safe if you're travelling, and have an awesome holiday.
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
Read This--It Could Save Your Sanity
A few years ago, I did something incredibly stupid. In fact, it might very well be in the top 10 list of stupidest things I've ever done.
I went to the mall the day after Thanksgiving.
Please, if you value your sanity, if you love your life, don't ever ever do this. It's a horrible experience. There is nothing good about it. Nothing, do you hear me? I don't care many sales are going on. I don't care how much money you save. You will have sacrificed your attitude of holiday cheer and goodwill for many many years to come, all for the sake of, oh I don't know, a silver waterpick from Brookstone, or a novelty sweater from Macy's with puffy reindeer pulling a puffy Santa in a puffy sleigh with crinkly golden letters spelling out "Season's Greetings" across the chest. Whatever you buy WILL NOT BE WORTH IT. Trust me.
Going to the mall the day after Thanksgiving is like diving into shark-infested waters with a gaping wound in your leg: you are asking for trouble. If you don't find it in the parking lot (where you will drive around for half an hour before you find a space, at which point someone will appear without warning from another direction and snake it from you, forcing you to drive around for another half an hour before you give up and leave the parking lot to find a spot on the street two blocks away), then you will find it in the stores (where countless numbers of frenzied shoppers will step on your toes as they hurry past, hold up check-out lines by asking the harried cashier questions like "but are you SURE this isn't on sale, I mean even though the tag clearly indicates that there is no discount on this item, still it was on the rack where all the other sale stuff is, can you just check please even though there are 10 billion people waiting in line behind me?", or who will walk really slowly RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU, taking up the entire walkway in big groups as you try to hurry from one end of the mall to the other).
You think I'm exaggerating, don't you. Fine. You just go ahead and take yourself down to the Galleria or South Coast Plaza or wherever is closest to you this Friday. If you don't end up feeling like you've descended into the seventh circle of HELL before you've been there for one hour, then you obviously like shopping a lot more than I do. Maybe too much, actually.
I went to the mall the day after Thanksgiving.
Please, if you value your sanity, if you love your life, don't ever ever do this. It's a horrible experience. There is nothing good about it. Nothing, do you hear me? I don't care many sales are going on. I don't care how much money you save. You will have sacrificed your attitude of holiday cheer and goodwill for many many years to come, all for the sake of, oh I don't know, a silver waterpick from Brookstone, or a novelty sweater from Macy's with puffy reindeer pulling a puffy Santa in a puffy sleigh with crinkly golden letters spelling out "Season's Greetings" across the chest. Whatever you buy WILL NOT BE WORTH IT. Trust me.
Going to the mall the day after Thanksgiving is like diving into shark-infested waters with a gaping wound in your leg: you are asking for trouble. If you don't find it in the parking lot (where you will drive around for half an hour before you find a space, at which point someone will appear without warning from another direction and snake it from you, forcing you to drive around for another half an hour before you give up and leave the parking lot to find a spot on the street two blocks away), then you will find it in the stores (where countless numbers of frenzied shoppers will step on your toes as they hurry past, hold up check-out lines by asking the harried cashier questions like "but are you SURE this isn't on sale, I mean even though the tag clearly indicates that there is no discount on this item, still it was on the rack where all the other sale stuff is, can you just check please even though there are 10 billion people waiting in line behind me?", or who will walk really slowly RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU, taking up the entire walkway in big groups as you try to hurry from one end of the mall to the other).
You think I'm exaggerating, don't you. Fine. You just go ahead and take yourself down to the Galleria or South Coast Plaza or wherever is closest to you this Friday. If you don't end up feeling like you've descended into the seventh circle of HELL before you've been there for one hour, then you obviously like shopping a lot more than I do. Maybe too much, actually.
Monday, November 22, 2004
Bear With Me
I think that if I weren't human, I would have made a pretty good bear, because I like the idea of hibernating. I think I would be good at it too. For example, I spent a fair amount of time yesterday lying on the floor of my bedroom, my body curled as closely as possible around the standing heater. The rest of the time I was curled up on a couch watching a movie, under a blanket and bundled up in sweats, socks, beanie, and gloves. I moved very little all day.
(If that sounds boring to anyone, well, it's just proof that you were not cut out for bearhood, as I am. Maybe you would be more like a mongoose or a flamingo, I don't know. You tell me.)
In addition to hibernating, I would never again have to worry about gaining holiday pounds, because bears are SUPPOSED to be fat in winter. I wouldn't have to try and find excuses for that extra helping of turkey and mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving dinner. I'd just say, "Hey, it's almost time to hibernate, need the padding to keep warm and all." Then the day after Thanksgiving I would go into my room and not come out for 6 months, at which point I'd be skinny again. No dieting! It would be great!
I'd probably wake up for Christmas though.
By the way, because I can see my friends rolling their eyes as they read this, I want to make it clear that I am not saying I am fat. I'm just saying I COULD be and it wouldn't matter, because I'd be a bear and it's ok for bears to be fat.
Happy Monday.
(If that sounds boring to anyone, well, it's just proof that you were not cut out for bearhood, as I am. Maybe you would be more like a mongoose or a flamingo, I don't know. You tell me.)
In addition to hibernating, I would never again have to worry about gaining holiday pounds, because bears are SUPPOSED to be fat in winter. I wouldn't have to try and find excuses for that extra helping of turkey and mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving dinner. I'd just say, "Hey, it's almost time to hibernate, need the padding to keep warm and all." Then the day after Thanksgiving I would go into my room and not come out for 6 months, at which point I'd be skinny again. No dieting! It would be great!
I'd probably wake up for Christmas though.
By the way, because I can see my friends rolling their eyes as they read this, I want to make it clear that I am not saying I am fat. I'm just saying I COULD be and it wouldn't matter, because I'd be a bear and it's ok for bears to be fat.
Happy Monday.
Friday, November 19, 2004
No Creative Title Today, Sorry
Yesterday I registered at a temp agency. I got to take a typing test, which was fun. And for once I'm not being sarcastic. I like typing tests because typing is one of the few clerical skills that I do really, really well. In fact, I ROCK at it. I don't rock at a lot of things, especially in an office setting, but typing--oh yeah, baby. Bring it ON.
So in the lobby of this temp agency, they had some washed-out watercolors of palm trees with squiggly watercolor writing underneath. It took me awhile to decipher the words on one of them; for a few minutes I was convinced that it said "such itchy palms." Then I figured out that "itchy" was actually "stately."
This happens to me a lot actually, misreading things. Once I was driving along a street in Concord, CA, and passed a Chinese restaurant called Peking Boy, but at first glance I swear I thought the sign said Peeking Boy. (Coincidentally, this restaurant was next door to an adult entertainment shop--no joke.)
One of the funniest signs I ever saw was on a lonely stretch of road near the top of New Zealand's north island. It was a wooden board with white painted lettering that said, "Will the bastard who stole my blue canvas tarp bring it back?" And no, I didn't misread that one at all.
Funny how I started out talking about one thing, but ended up somewhere completely different. This also happens to me a lot.
So in the lobby of this temp agency, they had some washed-out watercolors of palm trees with squiggly watercolor writing underneath. It took me awhile to decipher the words on one of them; for a few minutes I was convinced that it said "such itchy palms." Then I figured out that "itchy" was actually "stately."
This happens to me a lot actually, misreading things. Once I was driving along a street in Concord, CA, and passed a Chinese restaurant called Peking Boy, but at first glance I swear I thought the sign said Peeking Boy. (Coincidentally, this restaurant was next door to an adult entertainment shop--no joke.)
One of the funniest signs I ever saw was on a lonely stretch of road near the top of New Zealand's north island. It was a wooden board with white painted lettering that said, "Will the bastard who stole my blue canvas tarp bring it back?" And no, I didn't misread that one at all.
Funny how I started out talking about one thing, but ended up somewhere completely different. This also happens to me a lot.
Thursday, November 18, 2004
Remembering the Leonids
Leonid Meteor Shower
I love shooting stars.
Living in Los Angeles with all the bright lights, it's not easy to catch sight of them, so whenever I do, I get really excited. I'm stoked for the rest of the night!
Right now the Leonid meteor shower is falling, and I'm sad that I probably won't get to see any of it. Then again, I think I saw it at it's best a couple of years ago, in 2001. I'll never forget it...
That year, the meteors were going to be passing through the debris and dust of a comet tail, as they do about every 33 years, so the meteors were supposed to be more spectacular than usual. I was living in the Bay Area at the time, and Mt Tamalpais was probably the closest prime viewing spot, so I invited some friends to go, and we all agreed to meet there at about midnight on the peak night/morning.
I left home a little early, and I was so glad I did! I think the entire population of San Francisco decided to turn out for the event. I hit traffic before I got to the mountain, and I realized pretty quickly that there was no way I was going to find my friends once I arrived, and they weren't going to find me. In fact, soon after I got there, officials closed off the route to the top of the mountain, so some of my friends (including my sister) had to stay down at the bottom and find a spot to watch from there. So I was alone.
It was a freezing November night, or early morning rather. It was very dark; I saw flashlights waving here and there, bouncing over the ground. I heard the muffled sounds of strangers' voices. I got a blanket out of the car, lay down on the grass with hundreds of other people and fixed my eyes on the sky.
I have never seen anything like it.
Shooting stars everywhere I looked, seconds apart. Long ones with glowing trails that faded slowly. Short quick ones. And on that I remember as being more green than white, that seemed to fall through the entire sky in one huge fireball. Whenever the really big ones fell, a loud collective "oooooaaahhh!!" would rise up from the crowd scattered across the mountain.
I was there for about two hours or so, shivering in the pre-dawn air, absolutely in awe of the cosmic display. I couldn't tear myself away. I think I was there til about 3am. Even driving on the way home, along the eerily empty freeways (580 to Berkeley, 24 to Walnut Creek), I still saw a few shooting stars...bidding me a last goodnight.
It remains one of the most beautiful sights I have seen in my life. I hope get the chance to see it again someday, because the thing is, I am never entirely satisfied with just once. I'm greedy, I admit it. I always want more of the good stuff.
But I'm glad to have had at least the once anyway.
I love shooting stars.
Living in Los Angeles with all the bright lights, it's not easy to catch sight of them, so whenever I do, I get really excited. I'm stoked for the rest of the night!
Right now the Leonid meteor shower is falling, and I'm sad that I probably won't get to see any of it. Then again, I think I saw it at it's best a couple of years ago, in 2001. I'll never forget it...
That year, the meteors were going to be passing through the debris and dust of a comet tail, as they do about every 33 years, so the meteors were supposed to be more spectacular than usual. I was living in the Bay Area at the time, and Mt Tamalpais was probably the closest prime viewing spot, so I invited some friends to go, and we all agreed to meet there at about midnight on the peak night/morning.
I left home a little early, and I was so glad I did! I think the entire population of San Francisco decided to turn out for the event. I hit traffic before I got to the mountain, and I realized pretty quickly that there was no way I was going to find my friends once I arrived, and they weren't going to find me. In fact, soon after I got there, officials closed off the route to the top of the mountain, so some of my friends (including my sister) had to stay down at the bottom and find a spot to watch from there. So I was alone.
It was a freezing November night, or early morning rather. It was very dark; I saw flashlights waving here and there, bouncing over the ground. I heard the muffled sounds of strangers' voices. I got a blanket out of the car, lay down on the grass with hundreds of other people and fixed my eyes on the sky.
I have never seen anything like it.
Shooting stars everywhere I looked, seconds apart. Long ones with glowing trails that faded slowly. Short quick ones. And on that I remember as being more green than white, that seemed to fall through the entire sky in one huge fireball. Whenever the really big ones fell, a loud collective "oooooaaahhh!!" would rise up from the crowd scattered across the mountain.
I was there for about two hours or so, shivering in the pre-dawn air, absolutely in awe of the cosmic display. I couldn't tear myself away. I think I was there til about 3am. Even driving on the way home, along the eerily empty freeways (580 to Berkeley, 24 to Walnut Creek), I still saw a few shooting stars...bidding me a last goodnight.
It remains one of the most beautiful sights I have seen in my life. I hope get the chance to see it again someday, because the thing is, I am never entirely satisfied with just once. I'm greedy, I admit it. I always want more of the good stuff.
But I'm glad to have had at least the once anyway.
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
And the Winner in the You've-Got-To-Be-Kidding-Me Category...
I find it amazing that with all the stuff going on in our world today, CNN manages to make room on it's FRONT PAGE for a link to a story about a 10-year-old grilled cheese sandwich which apparently bears the image of--the Virgin Mary.
Virgin Mary sandwich back on eBay
The owner of the sandwich, a woman named Diana Duyser, put the sandwich up for sale on eBay last week. You know how high the bidding went? Over $20,000. For a sandwich. A sandwich that has been sitting on its owner's nightstand for about 10 years. Oh yes, and she took a bite out of it too before she noticed the face in the bread staring back at her.
I am a born skeptic when it comes to manifestations of the miraculous in the present day, and sometimes this saddens me, because I want very much to believe in them. But in this case...I'm sorry, I just refuse. The shroud of Turin is one thing (perhaps), but the Sandwich of Diana is another altogether, and I for one am not buying it.
However, that won't make a difference to Ms Duyer, because in the second round of bidding, she's already being offered over $16,000 (eBay took the sandwich off of their site at first because they thought it was a joke).
I guess from now on I should pay more attention to my food before scarfing it down. I think once I found a potato chip in the shape of Africa. That has to be worth at least a couple hundred, right?
Virgin Mary sandwich back on eBay
The owner of the sandwich, a woman named Diana Duyser, put the sandwich up for sale on eBay last week. You know how high the bidding went? Over $20,000. For a sandwich. A sandwich that has been sitting on its owner's nightstand for about 10 years. Oh yes, and she took a bite out of it too before she noticed the face in the bread staring back at her.
I am a born skeptic when it comes to manifestations of the miraculous in the present day, and sometimes this saddens me, because I want very much to believe in them. But in this case...I'm sorry, I just refuse. The shroud of Turin is one thing (perhaps), but the Sandwich of Diana is another altogether, and I for one am not buying it.
However, that won't make a difference to Ms Duyer, because in the second round of bidding, she's already being offered over $16,000 (eBay took the sandwich off of their site at first because they thought it was a joke).
I guess from now on I should pay more attention to my food before scarfing it down. I think once I found a potato chip in the shape of Africa. That has to be worth at least a couple hundred, right?
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