I wrote this joke, of which I am very fond and which I posted to practically universal lack of interest on Facebook this morning. I'll post it here in a minute with no doubt similar results. But the joke itself isn't the point. We are not going to talk about how long it took me to write this modest joke; instead we're going to blog about it.
For months now, I've wanted to do a joke about the Passive-Aggressive Hall of Fame. The problem with me as a gag writer is that my mind is almost totally literal. It's a thing of amazement to me that I ever come out with anything funny at all. Usually the only way anything funny drops out is as a result of perpetual wordplay. I just keep messing with words until something makes me laugh. But the P-A H of F struck me as an inherently funny idea, and I really thought there was a joke in there. It was finding it that was the hard part.
The literal part of my mind wanted to make a joke about an actual P-A H of F, as in a building. And there is no particular difficulty with coming up a joke about how such a building would be built already but for (insert your favorite p-a cliche here). The stumbling block was the setup; who in hell would be building a Passive-Aggressive Hall of Fame? I mean, "I was going to start a Procrastinators' Club, but I never got around to it" works, but the hall of fame is maybe a little too ambitious. Too much backstory needed or something.
So after months, last night this popped into my head: "I'd already be in the Passive-Aggressive Hall of Fame if some people would just nominate me." The killer joke? No. Going to make me famous? Not likely. But I like it.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Hey, I don't wear an earring!
Last night I dreamed I had an earring. A silver fang, dangling from my right ear. This wasn't the primary focus of the dream; just something I noticed in a dream about something else. I remembered I was surprised: I don't wear an earring! And the point to the anecdote, such as it is, is that as has happened before, hours later I realized that it was just a dream. In other words, for a while my waking mind believed my dreaming mind. In other other words, my brain suddenly went again: Hey, I don't wear an earring! Be a good look for me, though!
I'm edging closer and closer to trying to repartition this hard drive, so if you never see me again, don't be overly surprised. Dang iPod!:)
I'm edging closer and closer to trying to repartition this hard drive, so if you never see me again, don't be overly surprised. Dang iPod!:)
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Jeppidy
Here's the version from when it was fresh news: http://www.democraticunderground.com/discuss/duboard.php?az=view_all&address=105x6540758 (I promise you won't get in trouble for viewing an obsolete version.)
With the JEOPARDY! online test coming up in mere days (8, 9 & 10 January, says the email) I thought I'd get everybody fired up by telling you how much fun it is if you pass. The test is easy, assuming you have broadband and are good at the game. You only have to give replies; they do not have to be in the form of a question. This is fortunate as it's a timed test.
I passed and was invited for a tryout in Atlanta. I'm always up for a trip to Atlanta, so I pulled on my funeral suit and my happ'nin' '80s tie and hit the road. Alice was very skilled with Travelocity so she got me a hotel room across the street from the tryout site. (Damn the luck, the computer I was using at that time dropped dead about then, so the Inbox on this one doesn't quite go back that far, or I could say exactly which hotels. It was at or near Five Points, though.)
I've been more nervous once or twice, I guess, but the contestant co-ordinators were very friendly and put us at our ease. We had to fill out a resume, more or less, something I hadn't been prepared for, so if you do this, be sure to be prepared. It also asked for interesting anecdotes from your life that Alex could use to banter with you if you make the show. We also had to take a Polaroid; as I was still in my doughy gargoyle phase, I couldn't be said to be prepared for that, either.
But after that, the fun started, or JEOPARDY! buff type fun anyway. We were led into a meeting room set up a lot like a classroom, where we took another timed test, this one on paper, also not requiring replies in the form of a question. Then while these were being marked, we were brought up on stage three at a time to play a bit of JEOPARDY! Of course Alex Trebek wasn't there, and Johnny Gilbert was only on tape, but it was very fun anyway. The contestant co-ordinator asked us about ourselves and what we would do with the money if we won. (They didn't use the banter anecdotes from the resume, at least as far as I can remember. I guess we were expected to come across with them ourselves.)
I have the impression that I made the cut, but neither do I remember anyone being sent home as NOT making the cut. So maybe they just wanted us all to think we had passed. A few of us (mainly women) had a lot of panache and stage presence (not me); I watched the show with special attention over the next year and remember seeing several women form the Southeast who may have been from our group. We were told we would only hear from them if they were actually using us on a show, so it's impossible to say for sure whether I was ever even in the pool. However, the pool was very large; I wasn't much expecting to get the call to LA.
That said, it was a stone blast, and I definitely recommend everybody giving it a try. It could not have been more fun, I met a lot of nice people, and hey, Atlanta is always fun. So give it a go!
With the JEOPARDY! online test coming up in mere days (8, 9 & 10 January, says the email) I thought I'd get everybody fired up by telling you how much fun it is if you pass. The test is easy, assuming you have broadband and are good at the game. You only have to give replies; they do not have to be in the form of a question. This is fortunate as it's a timed test.
I passed and was invited for a tryout in Atlanta. I'm always up for a trip to Atlanta, so I pulled on my funeral suit and my happ'nin' '80s tie and hit the road. Alice was very skilled with Travelocity so she got me a hotel room across the street from the tryout site. (Damn the luck, the computer I was using at that time dropped dead about then, so the Inbox on this one doesn't quite go back that far, or I could say exactly which hotels. It was at or near Five Points, though.)
I've been more nervous once or twice, I guess, but the contestant co-ordinators were very friendly and put us at our ease. We had to fill out a resume, more or less, something I hadn't been prepared for, so if you do this, be sure to be prepared. It also asked for interesting anecdotes from your life that Alex could use to banter with you if you make the show. We also had to take a Polaroid; as I was still in my doughy gargoyle phase, I couldn't be said to be prepared for that, either.
But after that, the fun started, or JEOPARDY! buff type fun anyway. We were led into a meeting room set up a lot like a classroom, where we took another timed test, this one on paper, also not requiring replies in the form of a question. Then while these were being marked, we were brought up on stage three at a time to play a bit of JEOPARDY! Of course Alex Trebek wasn't there, and Johnny Gilbert was only on tape, but it was very fun anyway. The contestant co-ordinator asked us about ourselves and what we would do with the money if we won. (They didn't use the banter anecdotes from the resume, at least as far as I can remember. I guess we were expected to come across with them ourselves.)
I have the impression that I made the cut, but neither do I remember anyone being sent home as NOT making the cut. So maybe they just wanted us all to think we had passed. A few of us (mainly women) had a lot of panache and stage presence (not me); I watched the show with special attention over the next year and remember seeing several women form the Southeast who may have been from our group. We were told we would only hear from them if they were actually using us on a show, so it's impossible to say for sure whether I was ever even in the pool. However, the pool was very large; I wasn't much expecting to get the call to LA.
That said, it was a stone blast, and I definitely recommend everybody giving it a try. It could not have been more fun, I met a lot of nice people, and hey, Atlanta is always fun. So give it a go!
Friday, December 28, 2012
High school news quiz
In my high school days, I was on the debate team. As a side benefit, I was chosen to compete for Dreher High in the high school news quiz contest conducted by the University of South Carolina's Journalism school. As a freshman I was teamed with older students and we were quite well-behaved. But starting with sophomore year, childhood friends came from private school to Dreher and we made a much more rambunctious team. My now deceased friend Evans Elliott joined up as did another friend who will go by GCM since he is now a very prominent attorney in Texas.
We weren't rock-star rowdy, but I don't imagine we were very popular with the J school. One time we wore our glasses upside down. Once we claimed to be members of the Dreher Moped Polo Team. Once we each introduced each other ("To my left is John Dantzler." "To MY left is Evans Elliott."...) My favorite was when we did a deal with Cardinal Newman High (including my next-door neighbor) where both teams would do dumb voices during the introductions and say about our school activities only that we were "a member of the high school news quiz team." We went first and we went through with it. Cardinal Newman though did their introductions perfectly straight, giving all their real activities, and they were smirking; boy did they get one over on us. We beat them, I think, 120-70.
Strangely, I think the prank we did that had the biggest effect was the first one I mentioned above. A young lady on the Irmo High team (whom we also knew from the debate team and who went on to become a magistrate) just couldn't proceed she was laughing so hard. So if you're ever before a magistrate, try wearing your glasses upside down. Who knows? Might work!
Apart from all the silliness, we were really good, but we never won the tournament. We never applied ourselves at all and figured that being really smart would be sufficient to carry us all the way. Unfortunately, other teams actually made an effort and, you know, studied. So we found ourselves eliminated before the playoffs every year. But man did we have a lot of fun first!
We weren't rock-star rowdy, but I don't imagine we were very popular with the J school. One time we wore our glasses upside down. Once we claimed to be members of the Dreher Moped Polo Team. Once we each introduced each other ("To my left is John Dantzler." "To MY left is Evans Elliott."...) My favorite was when we did a deal with Cardinal Newman High (including my next-door neighbor) where both teams would do dumb voices during the introductions and say about our school activities only that we were "a member of the high school news quiz team." We went first and we went through with it. Cardinal Newman though did their introductions perfectly straight, giving all their real activities, and they were smirking; boy did they get one over on us. We beat them, I think, 120-70.
Strangely, I think the prank we did that had the biggest effect was the first one I mentioned above. A young lady on the Irmo High team (whom we also knew from the debate team and who went on to become a magistrate) just couldn't proceed she was laughing so hard. So if you're ever before a magistrate, try wearing your glasses upside down. Who knows? Might work!
Apart from all the silliness, we were really good, but we never won the tournament. We never applied ourselves at all and figured that being really smart would be sufficient to carry us all the way. Unfortunately, other teams actually made an effort and, you know, studied. So we found ourselves eliminated before the playoffs every year. But man did we have a lot of fun first!
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Jumping off point
My car is boiling over again, so this recipe may be punctuated with random profanity. Or profane randomity as the case may be.
Regardless, I decided the other day to invent amaranth peanut butter cookies. Immediately I received application to add chocolate chips to this, uh, culinary concept, an idea which I found had merit. For one thing, I had looked up oatmeal cookie recipes and saw how much freaking sugar they put in. I figured some chocolate chips couldn't hurt.
I didn't put in that much sweetener, but I did put in more honey than I've put into anything so far. I made up about a cup of amaranth. Which is to say, I took 1/3 cup of amaranth and a cup of filtered water, a grind or two of sea salt and a splash of EV olive oil, brought it to a boil which takes 6 minutes around here, then lowered to a quick simmer (a bit under 2 on the electric range here) and let it cook for 25 minutes. I cooled it a bit by putting the whole pot in a sink of water, which is probably insane, but who are you talking to here?
Preheat oven to 400. In a large mixing bowl, mix in roughly this order 1/4 cup of EV olive oil, 1/2 cup of honey (told ya!), a large egg (preferably broken then scrambled, but whatever works for you), 1/2 cup of natural peanut butter, 1 tsp of cocoa, 1 tsp of vanilla, 1 cup of brown rice flour, the amaranth and about 1/4 cup of Enjoy Life chocolate chips. (What I used was the rest of the bag, but it was about 1/4 cup.)
When you've mixed this devil's porridge thoroughly, you will notice like I did that you do not have cookie dough. You have bread dough or cake batter. So I lined a rectangular pan (sheet cake pan, Google thinks they're called) with parchment paper and dumped the whole mess in there, making some effort to equalize the thickness.
I cooked it for a half hour, which left it very slightly singed at the very edges and a bit soft on the insides. What I got were interesting amaranth/peanut butter/chocolate chip brownies. They aren't awe-inspiring, quite, but they're very very pleasant and no doubt frightfully healthy, as well as being as usual gluten-, casein- and soy-free. I suppose I could have made the amaranth with less water or cooked it longer or added more flour and I would have wound up with cookie dough. Clearly this is just a jumping-off point for any projected amaranth peanut butter cookie. But I think it's a good one, and I may just declare victory and call it good enough. Dammit.
Regardless, I decided the other day to invent amaranth peanut butter cookies. Immediately I received application to add chocolate chips to this, uh, culinary concept, an idea which I found had merit. For one thing, I had looked up oatmeal cookie recipes and saw how much freaking sugar they put in. I figured some chocolate chips couldn't hurt.
I didn't put in that much sweetener, but I did put in more honey than I've put into anything so far. I made up about a cup of amaranth. Which is to say, I took 1/3 cup of amaranth and a cup of filtered water, a grind or two of sea salt and a splash of EV olive oil, brought it to a boil which takes 6 minutes around here, then lowered to a quick simmer (a bit under 2 on the electric range here) and let it cook for 25 minutes. I cooled it a bit by putting the whole pot in a sink of water, which is probably insane, but who are you talking to here?
Preheat oven to 400. In a large mixing bowl, mix in roughly this order 1/4 cup of EV olive oil, 1/2 cup of honey (told ya!), a large egg (preferably broken then scrambled, but whatever works for you), 1/2 cup of natural peanut butter, 1 tsp of cocoa, 1 tsp of vanilla, 1 cup of brown rice flour, the amaranth and about 1/4 cup of Enjoy Life chocolate chips. (What I used was the rest of the bag, but it was about 1/4 cup.)
When you've mixed this devil's porridge thoroughly, you will notice like I did that you do not have cookie dough. You have bread dough or cake batter. So I lined a rectangular pan (sheet cake pan, Google thinks they're called) with parchment paper and dumped the whole mess in there, making some effort to equalize the thickness.
I cooked it for a half hour, which left it very slightly singed at the very edges and a bit soft on the insides. What I got were interesting amaranth/peanut butter/chocolate chip brownies. They aren't awe-inspiring, quite, but they're very very pleasant and no doubt frightfully healthy, as well as being as usual gluten-, casein- and soy-free. I suppose I could have made the amaranth with less water or cooked it longer or added more flour and I would have wound up with cookie dough. Clearly this is just a jumping-off point for any projected amaranth peanut butter cookie. But I think it's a good one, and I may just declare victory and call it good enough. Dammit.
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Signage
The Publix on Rosewood Drive is undergoing extensive renovations. Primarily, they are installing a pharmacy, which they never had before. They have made a great deal of progress and no doubt will be opening the pharmacy section (the store as a whole hasn't closed a bit except for normal closing hours and holidays) within a few weeks. The weird thing is that they put up new signs saying "Publix Food & Pharmacy"... and then blocked out the pharmacy part. This strikes me as conspicuously crazy. Why not just leave the old signs until the pharmacy is ready to open? Why not add "Coming soon!" instead of blacking it out. Seems a bit Stalinist: "Well, we had the new sign, so we might as well put it up." Not the most significant issue in the world at this time, I'll agree; just struck me as very odd. (Also, they moved the gluten-free ghetto even farther toward the back, so I guess I'm just crotchety about the whole deal.:))
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Christmas songs
A post on Facebook by Smithsonian Magazine (or, if you prefer, on their behalf) yesterday noted that before "White Christmas," there weren't any or anyway hardly any secular Christmas songs, and that nonstop Christmas music was absent from popular culture in Novembers and Decembers. I sort of felt that there was a suggestion that "White Christmas" somehow changed everything, clearing the way for all the other songs, but I guess that's silly. Listening to a Christmas song marathon on the radio today (Surprise!), I kind of picked up the mechanics of how it happened. Show biz generally and Hollywood specifically are very highly imitative.
On the radio marathon, the DJ was detail-oriented enough to mention how many of those songs were originally from Hollywood movies. Not to get overly technical, the percentage was a high one. At least a couple of them seemed to be really thrown in just to get a Christmas song in there. ("Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," I was surprised to hear came from "Meet Me in St. Louis." So it wasn't just that Irving Berlin taught Tin Pan Alley that Christmas songs generate cash register jingle bells; it seems more likely that Hollywood took the same lesson with regard to boffo box office. I just hope I don't have to blame him for "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree"!
On the radio marathon, the DJ was detail-oriented enough to mention how many of those songs were originally from Hollywood movies. Not to get overly technical, the percentage was a high one. At least a couple of them seemed to be really thrown in just to get a Christmas song in there. ("Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," I was surprised to hear came from "Meet Me in St. Louis." So it wasn't just that Irving Berlin taught Tin Pan Alley that Christmas songs generate cash register jingle bells; it seems more likely that Hollywood took the same lesson with regard to boffo box office. I just hope I don't have to blame him for "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree"!
Monday, December 24, 2012
Cocoa wrangling
(This could just be an edit of the post from 3 days ago, but) Correction: As it turns out, adding cocoa powder to beverages seems to work every time if only you add the cocoa BEFORE you add the water. I can't make any sense out of this: same cocoa, same water; ought to dissolve about the same whether you add the water first or not, but it doesn't. I guess a lot of the cocoa winds up sticking to the sides of the blender if you add the water first, though I don't know why that would be the case either.
Meanwhile the zinc lozenges seem to be making inroads into my cold, so hopefully I'll be back to writing in English again at some point soon. But I'll be sure to come up with a new excuse then.:)
Meanwhile the zinc lozenges seem to be making inroads into my cold, so hopefully I'll be back to writing in English again at some point soon. But I'll be sure to come up with a new excuse then.:)
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Safety feature
This is minor beyond belief, but then it appeared that my very experienced mechanic didn't know about it, so it may be of interest to somebody. Lately when it's cold, my brake warning light comes on. As it goes off again once the car warms up, I'm pretty sure I'm in no danger. The brakes seem to work as well as ever, and there's nothing spooky like the pedal going all the way to the floorboard. But what I notice is that any time the brake warning light comes on, the cruise control no longer works. The first time it happened, I thought the cruise control had gone on the fritz. However, when I added brake fluid and the light ceased coming on, the cruise control miraculously started working again. And that's when I figured it out. I think it's a pretty cool safety feature, but a little underpublicized. I don't think there's anything about it in the manual, for instance.
I've got a touch of a cold and am hoping that zinc lozenges actually help at least a bit. I think I understand the genesis of the phrase "caught a cold." After all, when your lungs are congested, they aren't going to be able to put as much oxygen in your blood. Without as much oxygen in your blood, you're not going to be as warm, especially around the extremities. (Wait, we burn oxygen? I better go look this up.) So when you catch a cold, you do catch... cold. Of course, I've probably come to this conclusion every time I caught cold. Either that, or I'm just rationalizing why I'm such a reptile. Either works.
I've got a touch of a cold and am hoping that zinc lozenges actually help at least a bit. I think I understand the genesis of the phrase "caught a cold." After all, when your lungs are congested, they aren't going to be able to put as much oxygen in your blood. Without as much oxygen in your blood, you're not going to be as warm, especially around the extremities. (Wait, we burn oxygen? I better go look this up.) So when you catch a cold, you do catch... cold. Of course, I've probably come to this conclusion every time I caught cold. Either that, or I'm just rationalizing why I'm such a reptile. Either works.
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Joke birth
What with the Mayan apocalypse and everything, I found myself a little prophecy-minded yesterday. I wound up with a bad case of Nostradamus on the brain. This caused me to play "The Best of Al Stewart: Songs from the Radio." (He had (still has, presumably) a delightful song called "Nostradamus.") And I kept working on this gag, something along the lines of "If YOUR name had been Mike OurLady, you probably would have gone all kookoo and prophetic, too."
And I still kind of like the joke. But it reminded me strongly of what all the copywriters are doing these days with radio ads, which is having the announcer yell, "Weird!" in the place where a punchline should go as if that magically makes the ad funny. (Note to copywriters: it doesn't.) I just couldn't fix the joke, but another popped up in its place which I like even better: Edgar Cayce, Michel de Nostradame and John of Patmos walk into a bar. The bartender cheerfully calls out, "What's happening, fellas?" Boy was HE sorry!
And I still kind of like the joke. But it reminded me strongly of what all the copywriters are doing these days with radio ads, which is having the announcer yell, "Weird!" in the place where a punchline should go as if that magically makes the ad funny. (Note to copywriters: it doesn't.) I just couldn't fix the joke, but another popped up in its place which I like even better: Edgar Cayce, Michel de Nostradame and John of Patmos walk into a bar. The bartender cheerfully calls out, "What's happening, fellas?" Boy was HE sorry!
Friday, December 21, 2012
Surprise!
Well all right; it's probably only a surprise to me. (I always say that, don't I?) But in my continuing effort to put cocoa in everything, I added it to my breakfast drink. This is a small navel orange and half a banana with water thrown in a blender. I mentioned the other day that cocoa added to my lunch drink (avocado-cucumber-fruit smoothie) made it sublime, or sublimer, or something. But adding it to the orange-banana drink did practically nothing at all.
Back when I lived without dietary restrictions, I was a huge fan of dark chocolate oranges. So there shouldn't have been any flavor incompatibility. I can only guess that there isn't enough fat to bring out the cocoa flavor. That's one thing avocados have over oranges. The cocoa itself has fat. According to the nutritional information, 10% of cocoa by weight is fat. But I guess it needs more. At least it didn't taste bad or anything; it just barely changed the taste at all.
I would have expected that neither drink was sweet enough to permit mixing with unsweetened cocoa, but of the two I would have thought that orange-banana would have been sweeter and thus more compatible. So I am in fact surprised. Still awfully thrilled that the avocado thing works, though.
Yeah yeah yeah, not earth-shattering. I'll let the Mayan Apocalypse take care of that.
Back when I lived without dietary restrictions, I was a huge fan of dark chocolate oranges. So there shouldn't have been any flavor incompatibility. I can only guess that there isn't enough fat to bring out the cocoa flavor. That's one thing avocados have over oranges. The cocoa itself has fat. According to the nutritional information, 10% of cocoa by weight is fat. But I guess it needs more. At least it didn't taste bad or anything; it just barely changed the taste at all.
I would have expected that neither drink was sweet enough to permit mixing with unsweetened cocoa, but of the two I would have thought that orange-banana would have been sweeter and thus more compatible. So I am in fact surprised. Still awfully thrilled that the avocado thing works, though.
Yeah yeah yeah, not earth-shattering. I'll let the Mayan Apocalypse take care of that.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Tootsie pop
At Hallowe'en, a kid dropped a Tootsie pop in my yard near my mailbox. It took a while for the ants to realize that there was food value in there, but eventually they set to work. I guess they licked and licked and licked like the cartoon owl in the old TV commercial ("One! Two! Thuh-ree-EE! [crunch] Three.") For ages, the Tootsie pop looked largely unchanged, though there were definitely ants in there giving it their best try. Today I noticed that after almost two months, the orange coating is almost totally gone and a good deal of the chocolate center is gone, too. I'm sure Science would be deeply interested; all I need is an entomologist with a good grounding in Comparative Candies. No sweat!
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
See, it's like this
Latest attempt at faking thin mint girl scout cookies goes as follows: Preheat oven to 400. Line a cookie sheet or something similar (I use a pizza pan) with parchment paper. Mix 2 T of EV olive oil, 4 T of honey, one large egg, 1 T of baking (unsweetened) cocoa, 1/2 tsp of peppermint extract, 1 cup of brown rice flour, 1/4 cup of chopped almonds and 1/4 cup of Enjoy Life (dairy-, nut- and soy-free) semi-sweet chocolate mini-chips. (The latter is found in health food stores, as is the brown rice flour.)
I'll admit it; essentially, I've invented icing again. The stuff is so thick that it's fairly tricky getting the dough from mixing bowl to pan. Between a spatula and a fork, I eventually get the deed done. Somebody possessing eye-hand co-ordination will probably find it much easier. Or if you prefer, you could just spatula the whole thing into one gigantic cookie and cut it up later. Oughtta work, though I haven't tried it.
Bake for 10 minutes. After 10 minutes, the cookies seemed quite done, but with a raw egg in there I'm always a little nervous. (I ate a few at this point and I haven't died yet, so I'm reasonably confident that you can stop at this point if you like). I turned the oven off and let it and them cool for 5 minutes. Then I flipped the cookies and put them in the cooling oven for another 5 minutes. One person found the resulting cookies to be too dry; if you skip this step, maybe they would be moister. Or I/you could add a little almond milk. But personally, I love them just the way they are, you know, like Billy Joel. So I present the recipe as I did it. And there you have it: gluten-free casein-free soy-free girl scout cookies-- sort of. (I'm just trying for the flavor; there's no similarity in look or texture.) Hope you like them!
I'll admit it; essentially, I've invented icing again. The stuff is so thick that it's fairly tricky getting the dough from mixing bowl to pan. Between a spatula and a fork, I eventually get the deed done. Somebody possessing eye-hand co-ordination will probably find it much easier. Or if you prefer, you could just spatula the whole thing into one gigantic cookie and cut it up later. Oughtta work, though I haven't tried it.
Bake for 10 minutes. After 10 minutes, the cookies seemed quite done, but with a raw egg in there I'm always a little nervous. (I ate a few at this point and I haven't died yet, so I'm reasonably confident that you can stop at this point if you like). I turned the oven off and let it and them cool for 5 minutes. Then I flipped the cookies and put them in the cooling oven for another 5 minutes. One person found the resulting cookies to be too dry; if you skip this step, maybe they would be moister. Or I/you could add a little almond milk. But personally, I love them just the way they are, you know, like Billy Joel. So I present the recipe as I did it. And there you have it: gluten-free casein-free soy-free girl scout cookies-- sort of. (I'm just trying for the flavor; there's no similarity in look or texture.) Hope you like them!
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Anorexia
My college career is a bit confusing. I started at the University of Pennsylvania, got fed up after a year and a half (or rather, three semesters) and went home, enrolled at the University of South Carolina studying primarily International Relations (or Studies, but that sounded redundant). I took a 500 level (meaning both undergrads and grad students can apply it to their degrees) class and did very well. The instructor also headed the exchange program with the University of Kent at Canterbury in England and asked if I would like to go. "Hell yeah!" I said, or the academic equivalent, and I spent my junior year abroad. Coming back, I found that I could graduate faster from Penn than from Carolina, so I did.
Now the reason I was fed up with Penn was that I wanted to study International Relations, and in spite of all the green money Penn asked for, their program was terrible. So I studied the hell out of International Relations at USC and UKC and returned to Penn where I found... I had to study it all again, as I had to have a certain percentage of my credits in my major at Penn. Fortunately, they had improved the program, so at least the courses were mostly interesting. But since I had to cram them all into one semester, it was a bit harrowing. Also I was living in an apartment and cooking for myself all the time for the first time, which might not be expected to end well.
One day, I was crossing the 38th St bridge, a pedestrian bridge with a bit of an arch to it, and found it difficult. Generally I was feeling a little rundown so I stopped in at Student Health. They found that I was anemic and hypoglycemic and weighed in at 128 lbs on my 5 feet 10 almost. The resident or intern told me that I was anorexic. I told her "Am not!" and she said fine, come back in a month weighing 138 lbs and I'll vacate the diagnosis. The way my eyes lit up should have tipped her off that of all the things in the world that I am, anorexic isn't one of them.
In those days, there was a very nice ice cream parlor in West Philadelphia called Hillary's. I visited them a lot! And in general I ate more, and better, and richer. I don't actually recall hitting restaurants a lot more often, but I probably did. I may have moved up-market from boxed macaroni and cheese, too. Regardless, I came back after a month weighing 138 or more and the doctor agreed that she had been mistaken. However, now I wish bitterly that somebody had made a deeper investigation. Because if somebody had discovered the celiac disease then, well I would have missed out on a lot of delicious food, so that's a minus. But I probably would have never gotten as fat as I did in the '90s and the '00s, I never would have had the joy of lactose intolerance, and I wouldn't be as worried about intestinal cancer now. Not that I'm all that worried... but still.
Now the reason I was fed up with Penn was that I wanted to study International Relations, and in spite of all the green money Penn asked for, their program was terrible. So I studied the hell out of International Relations at USC and UKC and returned to Penn where I found... I had to study it all again, as I had to have a certain percentage of my credits in my major at Penn. Fortunately, they had improved the program, so at least the courses were mostly interesting. But since I had to cram them all into one semester, it was a bit harrowing. Also I was living in an apartment and cooking for myself all the time for the first time, which might not be expected to end well.
One day, I was crossing the 38th St bridge, a pedestrian bridge with a bit of an arch to it, and found it difficult. Generally I was feeling a little rundown so I stopped in at Student Health. They found that I was anemic and hypoglycemic and weighed in at 128 lbs on my 5 feet 10 almost. The resident or intern told me that I was anorexic. I told her "Am not!" and she said fine, come back in a month weighing 138 lbs and I'll vacate the diagnosis. The way my eyes lit up should have tipped her off that of all the things in the world that I am, anorexic isn't one of them.
In those days, there was a very nice ice cream parlor in West Philadelphia called Hillary's. I visited them a lot! And in general I ate more, and better, and richer. I don't actually recall hitting restaurants a lot more often, but I probably did. I may have moved up-market from boxed macaroni and cheese, too. Regardless, I came back after a month weighing 138 or more and the doctor agreed that she had been mistaken. However, now I wish bitterly that somebody had made a deeper investigation. Because if somebody had discovered the celiac disease then, well I would have missed out on a lot of delicious food, so that's a minus. But I probably would have never gotten as fat as I did in the '90s and the '00s, I never would have had the joy of lactose intolerance, and I wouldn't be as worried about intestinal cancer now. Not that I'm all that worried... but still.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Grammar
I always wondered why I learned a lot more about grammar rules in French class than in English. I especially learned about verb tenses and moods (verbs have moods?) there and hardly at all in English. I think I've had an insight. In your native tongue, the teacher can give you examples of various tenses by pointing them out in sentences you have (or might have) said before. "I walked down the street" or "I have seen the newspaper." In a foreign language, you're totally at sea. Thus, the teacher has to explain what the various tenses and other forms actually mean, rather than just giving examples and then teaching by rote.
Of course, it's always possible that my English teachers tried and tried to teach me all the rules and they just sailed over my head. However, I clearly remember when other subjects proved to be too hard for me; I don't see why English would be an exception. Still, it is true that at least back when I was in school, we started English much younger than we started foreign languages. It could be that my more grownup brain was better ready to handle difficult grammar concepts by the time I got to French. All I really remember from French is "Je ne sais pas," and at last it fits.
Of course, it's always possible that my English teachers tried and tried to teach me all the rules and they just sailed over my head. However, I clearly remember when other subjects proved to be too hard for me; I don't see why English would be an exception. Still, it is true that at least back when I was in school, we started English much younger than we started foreign languages. It could be that my more grownup brain was better ready to handle difficult grammar concepts by the time I got to French. All I really remember from French is "Je ne sais pas," and at last it fits.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Time is crazy
I've wanted to post for at least a year about how long a time a second is, but haven't because I feel like an idiot every time I think about doing so. But really, it is. I notice this every day when I'm cooking and watching the timer on the stove count down. A second is long enough to turn off two burners. It's a distinct, discrete period of time. Obviously, not a huge one, but long enough to do something; long enough to be noticed.
On the other hand, 50 years, one hell of a lot of seconds, has not seemed like a long time. An hour must not be a very long time; I've certainly wasted enough of them. Minutes, hours, days, weeks; none of them seem long unless you're waiting. Or anyway unless I am. This is why I carry a book anywhere I'm likely to be made to wait. Patience is not one of my virtues.
So there you have it: a second is a long time; a half a century isn't, unless you spend it waiting. Clearly, this is what Einstein was talking about.
On the other hand, 50 years, one hell of a lot of seconds, has not seemed like a long time. An hour must not be a very long time; I've certainly wasted enough of them. Minutes, hours, days, weeks; none of them seem long unless you're waiting. Or anyway unless I am. This is why I carry a book anywhere I'm likely to be made to wait. Patience is not one of my virtues.
So there you have it: a second is a long time; a half a century isn't, unless you spend it waiting. Clearly, this is what Einstein was talking about.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Where's the post office?
There was a massacre of innocents in Connecticut yesterday. Doctors found a blood clot in my dad's leg, but are not going to do anything about it for the moment. So you'll forgive me if I don't have anything particularly deep, wise, or funny to contribute at the moment. I'll try to do better tomorrow.
I was reminded of a something funny that happened many months ago. I was pumping gas and these young women in a car asked directions to the nearest post office. I was a little flustered because although the post offices in Columbia and West Columbia (where I was standing at that moment) are conveniently located, directions to them are far from simple, and these women did not seem to be from around here. (I guess you could infer that from the fact that they had to ask directions to the post office.) I was starting to tell them this when, looking up, I noticed that there was a contract post office right across the street from us. "Or you could go there," I said with a smile, pointing it out. Those were two embarrassed young women, though they shouldn't have been. I've been buying gas there for years and I hadn't noticed it before either.
I was reminded of a something funny that happened many months ago. I was pumping gas and these young women in a car asked directions to the nearest post office. I was a little flustered because although the post offices in Columbia and West Columbia (where I was standing at that moment) are conveniently located, directions to them are far from simple, and these women did not seem to be from around here. (I guess you could infer that from the fact that they had to ask directions to the post office.) I was starting to tell them this when, looking up, I noticed that there was a contract post office right across the street from us. "Or you could go there," I said with a smile, pointing it out. Those were two embarrassed young women, though they shouldn't have been. I've been buying gas there for years and I hadn't noticed it before either.
Friday, December 14, 2012
About time one of these brilliant ideas worked
As I've mentioned, every day at lunch I drink an avocado/cucumber smoothie with frozen fruit for flavor, either pineapple or mixed fruit and blueberries. They're both very tasty and good for my thyroid, but I think even the little bit of avocado in there is throwing me out of balance. Avocado is a vasoconstrictor while cucumber is a vasodilator; whenever I get overly crampy I start thinking that I'm overdoing the former or underdoing the latter.
But there are other vasodilators, the most popular of them being chocolate. I thought, what if I threw some cocoa in there? I used to make avocado chocolate pudding with nothing but avocado, honey, cocoa and water. I really thought that this wouldn't be sweet enough. Boy was I wrong! It turned out crazy mad wonderful delicious, and is very simple.
Take a quarter of an avocado; spoon chunks into a blender. Add half of a seedless cucumber. I cut out the area where the seeds would be because I still think that stuff causes reflux, but I may be being overly cautious (or crazy, as you prefer). Toss the cucumber chunks in as well. Continuing the theme, add pineapple chunks. I think I used about a half a cup. I use frozen, but if you happen to have a fresh pineapple around, I'm sure that would be even better. A teaspoon full of unsweetened cocoa and water to cover and there you are. Push the Pulse button and you'll have a delicious, nutritious drink. Will it fix my cramps? Well, we'll see.
But there are other vasodilators, the most popular of them being chocolate. I thought, what if I threw some cocoa in there? I used to make avocado chocolate pudding with nothing but avocado, honey, cocoa and water. I really thought that this wouldn't be sweet enough. Boy was I wrong! It turned out crazy mad wonderful delicious, and is very simple.
Take a quarter of an avocado; spoon chunks into a blender. Add half of a seedless cucumber. I cut out the area where the seeds would be because I still think that stuff causes reflux, but I may be being overly cautious (or crazy, as you prefer). Toss the cucumber chunks in as well. Continuing the theme, add pineapple chunks. I think I used about a half a cup. I use frozen, but if you happen to have a fresh pineapple around, I'm sure that would be even better. A teaspoon full of unsweetened cocoa and water to cover and there you are. Push the Pulse button and you'll have a delicious, nutritious drink. Will it fix my cramps? Well, we'll see.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Fun with cars
Boiling over radiator car crisis boils down (ha ha) to a busted thermostat. The garage had to order the part, so I'm driving around in a car that wants to boil over again. It's behaving so far, fortunately. A person with common sense would have left it in the shop and let brother William take Dad to dialysis today, but I also needed it to go get groceries, so it made more sense to do that, take Dad today and bring him home, then leave it at the shop which, fortuitously, is quite near Margaret's place.
Unfortunately, that leaves me unable to take Dad to his doctor's appointment tomorrow morning, but I'm sure William will fill in with aplomb. Also, as his car is newer it's likely that his heat works better, and it'll be the coldest day of this almost-winter so far. Also his radiator is much less likely to boil over. So there's that.
Walking over to pick up the car yesterday afternoon, time was pressing and also it was raining, so I ran a very small part. MAYBE as much as two blocks. I was embarrassingly sore; you'd think I'd run a marathon. My excuse is that it's a bad idea to run in hiking boots, and I'm sticking to it.
Yesterday was my 666th consecutive daily entry. I posted about it on Facebook and included a link, and immediately was embarrassed to see that people had followed it. I almost went back and posted, "That was just an FYI; I never said it was interesting!":)
Unfortunately, that leaves me unable to take Dad to his doctor's appointment tomorrow morning, but I'm sure William will fill in with aplomb. Also, as his car is newer it's likely that his heat works better, and it'll be the coldest day of this almost-winter so far. Also his radiator is much less likely to boil over. So there's that.
Walking over to pick up the car yesterday afternoon, time was pressing and also it was raining, so I ran a very small part. MAYBE as much as two blocks. I was embarrassingly sore; you'd think I'd run a marathon. My excuse is that it's a bad idea to run in hiking boots, and I'm sticking to it.
Yesterday was my 666th consecutive daily entry. I posted about it on Facebook and included a link, and immediately was embarrassed to see that people had followed it. I almost went back and posted, "That was just an FYI; I never said it was interesting!":)
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Humidity stinks
I mention every now and again with a certain pride what a complete dumb-dumb ninny I am, and this is another of those occasions. The other day I was at a thrift store across from a chicken slaughterhouse. It was overcast and I noticed much more how horrible it smelled in the parking lot than on previous visits. I thought it must be a temperature inversion or something. Today it's overcast and walking back from dropping the car off at the mechanic, I could smell a cigar from someone I never saw at all for ages. Later, I had a similar experience with mothballs.
Back in the day, I always thought that Philadelphia smelled like tar, as in the tar that is spread on roofs to keep leaks out. (Or just to make a horrible smell, I don't know.) But now that I think about it, that overwhelming smell always hit me when it was overcast, too. I guess the volatile compounds that we find stinky must stick around better when it's wetter, literally. They must be sticking to the water molecules in the air. So when it's dryer, they blow away, or at least they blow away more easily. Maybe weather forecasts should add a Stinkiness Index.
Back in the day, I always thought that Philadelphia smelled like tar, as in the tar that is spread on roofs to keep leaks out. (Or just to make a horrible smell, I don't know.) But now that I think about it, that overwhelming smell always hit me when it was overcast, too. I guess the volatile compounds that we find stinky must stick around better when it's wetter, literally. They must be sticking to the water molecules in the air. So when it's dryer, they blow away, or at least they blow away more easily. Maybe weather forecasts should add a Stinkiness Index.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Herzog Herzog Herzog Herzog...
I'm a little distracted because my car has boiled over and I don't know how I'm going to get the radiator repaired or replaced AND pick up my dad from dialysis AND make it to Drinking Liberally AND make it to jazz. Hopefully, adding water will be sufficient to postpone the crisis until tomorrow. (Knock on wood.)
So this is really more like a Facebook status update than a blog entry. Thing is, the only person who might be remotely interested isn't on Facebook and does sometimes read my blog. So there ya go. Last week, I was on my way to Margaret's to pick up my dad for dialysis. When I went under the trestle at Rosewood Drive, there was a freight train pulling only cars labeled Herzog. "Herzog Herzog Herzog Herzog..." the train read. It looked fairly silly. I thought, somewhere out there, there's a huge Saul Bellow fan. (My buddy Paul suggested that the film director Werner Herzog would also probably dig it.)
On the way home, I encountered the same train (or another one EXACTLY like it) on a different set of tracks. "Herzog Herzog Herzog Herzog..." I sensed a theme developing. But I haven't seen the Herzogs since.
Googling indicates that they're called ballast cars. Also that there are YouTube videos of them out there. Somebody tell Werner Herzog.
So this is really more like a Facebook status update than a blog entry. Thing is, the only person who might be remotely interested isn't on Facebook and does sometimes read my blog. So there ya go. Last week, I was on my way to Margaret's to pick up my dad for dialysis. When I went under the trestle at Rosewood Drive, there was a freight train pulling only cars labeled Herzog. "Herzog Herzog Herzog Herzog..." the train read. It looked fairly silly. I thought, somewhere out there, there's a huge Saul Bellow fan. (My buddy Paul suggested that the film director Werner Herzog would also probably dig it.)
On the way home, I encountered the same train (or another one EXACTLY like it) on a different set of tracks. "Herzog Herzog Herzog Herzog..." I sensed a theme developing. But I haven't seen the Herzogs since.
Googling indicates that they're called ballast cars. Also that there are YouTube videos of them out there. Somebody tell Werner Herzog.
Monday, December 10, 2012
Autofill
When I was little and only wrote by hand, I had a big problem with starting to write one word when I meant another. Then when I moved on to typing and keyboarding (so THAT'S what it's called!), I would do the exact same thing. There are untold numbers of examples, but alas they never come to mind unless they happen. The only one I always remember is the only one I ALWAYS do, which is typing "your" in place of the second word in "New York." (Not kidding. I just. did it. again!)
What tickles me about this is that in the few situations in life where I haven't painfully murdered Autofill-- I'm sorry, in those situations where I take advantage of the technological marvel that is Autofill, it often suggests the same words that my brain has been auto-suggesting for all these years. I would guess that both phenomena have the same cause; one word is more common and thus more frequently typed than the other. But I still think it's funny. Also that Otto Phil Something would be a good penname.
What tickles me about this is that in the few situations in life where I haven't painfully murdered Autofill-- I'm sorry, in those situations where I take advantage of the technological marvel that is Autofill, it often suggests the same words that my brain has been auto-suggesting for all these years. I would guess that both phenomena have the same cause; one word is more common and thus more frequently typed than the other. But I still think it's funny. Also that Otto Phil Something would be a good penname.
Sunday, December 9, 2012
My chief shortcoming
My chief shortcoming as a human being is that I'm not one. My first priority is to turn a phrase nicely. My second is to get a laugh. In other words, first I'm a writer, second I'm a cutup. I'm a human being, oh, around 29th place or so. This comes up because I'm trying to put together a communique to a person who might read it as good news. The temptation is very high to spend days crafting a perfect missive, with allusions and puns and clever wordplay. And it occurs to me that if it's good news, it would be better to get it to her fast, and not cobble around with all that cleverness guff. If it isn't and just elicits a nastygram in return, well, it's probably better to get that over quicker, too. I'm sorry (sniff); I always cry a little bit when the little boy starts acting like a man. Even if he's 50.:)
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Comforter
I noted last year, or maybe this one, that when it gets colder I'm much happier if I throw the old comforter on the bed. (Hence the name perhaps.) The two bedspreads are adequate and the kitty camped out on my knees adds a lot of warmth and comfort. But the comforter gets an otherwise dank room all the way up to, well, comfortable. Moreover, the warmth carries over all day. When I'm cold at night, I feel chilly all day long. When I'm warm at night, I feel much less like running to knit cap and gloves at all hours.
Of course, the way this cold season's going, it may never come up again. We're back to Chamber of Commerce weather, sunny with highs in the 70s. Much as I fear the long-term consequences of global warming, I must admit that as a reptile I'm enjoying some of the short-term ones. If it wants to be another pleasant, mild winter, I think I can live with it.
The comforter was a gift from Alice long ago and as such is tangible proof that somebody once loved me. That's a comfort, too.
Of course, the way this cold season's going, it may never come up again. We're back to Chamber of Commerce weather, sunny with highs in the 70s. Much as I fear the long-term consequences of global warming, I must admit that as a reptile I'm enjoying some of the short-term ones. If it wants to be another pleasant, mild winter, I think I can live with it.
The comforter was a gift from Alice long ago and as such is tangible proof that somebody once loved me. That's a comfort, too.
Friday, December 7, 2012
Mr. No Common Sense
I'm allergic to my cat's fur. OK, her spittle, but I was trying to be delicate. I sleep with a sleep mask. I wear glasses all the rest of the time. I keep both mask and glasses on the floor when they aren't in use. In a shocker, each gets covered in, you guessed it, cat fur. Well, not covered, but each gets some cat hair on it. This is a headache. Literally. Until I find the cat hair on or near my eyes, I have unpleasant eyestrain-like headaches. Common sense would say to put the glasses/sleep mask in my eyeglass case, but it doesn't seal at all well; I don't think it's likely to keep kitty hair out. It seems at first pretty crazy to use a ziplock bag, but the more I think about it, the better an idea it sounds. (Oooh, that didn't sound very good, did it? Note to people just surfing in: I really am a native English speaker. Well, American anyway.) I think I'll try it. And common sense comes to Ohio Street!
Thursday, December 6, 2012
This is NOT your SIM serial number
So we quit re-upping Dad's Net10 cell phone and its phone number expired. The sibs felt that it needed to be revived, so they called Net10 Customer Support and asked what's the deal. The deal, it turned out, was that Net10 would send him a new SIM card, we would put it in, then go to the website or call Customer Support again. The task fell to me. Note: never call a Luddite to a 21st century technology situation. Nobody winds up happy.
The SIM card came attached to a bit of plastic with a number on it ominously captioned, "This is NOT your SIM serial number." There was also another number which presumably WAS (and turned out to be) the serial number. But all this rigmarole was unnecessary anyway since once you get the SIM card in, the phone knows the serial number anyway.
The directions were useless as they supposed that the card fitted behind a door that could be opened. It turned out that on this phone, nothing like that was the case. You slid out the old one; you slid in the new one. Simple!
Then things stopped being simple. Or rather, I started being simple. All I had to do, as it turned out, was call up, read them the SIM serial number, read them the PIN from an Add Airtime card, and we would be done. But I just couldn't grasp this and made a total ass of myself. It did not help that the people I was talking to were very, very far away and did not speak English clearly at all. I think the whole deal would have worked better keyboard to keyboard in a Live Chat session. This is how Earthlink handles technical problems, and though I generally don't have great love for their customer service either, in this instance it worked well.
Anyway, I came off 100% Ugly American, about which I am ashamed, but in the end we achieved a happy result. And now, after two straight technology-related posts, I hope I can go back to being a Luddite in peace.:)
The SIM card came attached to a bit of plastic with a number on it ominously captioned, "This is NOT your SIM serial number." There was also another number which presumably WAS (and turned out to be) the serial number. But all this rigmarole was unnecessary anyway since once you get the SIM card in, the phone knows the serial number anyway.
The directions were useless as they supposed that the card fitted behind a door that could be opened. It turned out that on this phone, nothing like that was the case. You slid out the old one; you slid in the new one. Simple!
Then things stopped being simple. Or rather, I started being simple. All I had to do, as it turned out, was call up, read them the SIM serial number, read them the PIN from an Add Airtime card, and we would be done. But I just couldn't grasp this and made a total ass of myself. It did not help that the people I was talking to were very, very far away and did not speak English clearly at all. I think the whole deal would have worked better keyboard to keyboard in a Live Chat session. This is how Earthlink handles technical problems, and though I generally don't have great love for their customer service either, in this instance it worked well.
Anyway, I came off 100% Ugly American, about which I am ashamed, but in the end we achieved a happy result. And now, after two straight technology-related posts, I hope I can go back to being a Luddite in peace.:)
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
FoxFi
This is mainly a writing exercise to see if I can work through the syntax on explaining something I don't understand well. Sister Anne and brother Mal told me about an Android app called FoxFi. This would give me a WiFi hotspot for free, as against the app that's preloaded on the Droid (First challenge: how to capitalize Android and Droid) which gives you a hotspot but charges through the nose for it.
This app is free-- sort of. After a while, it goes Boop and when you look at the phone it tells you that your usage limit has been reached and your hotspot has been turned off. The length of "a while" varies greatly, however. The first session was crazy long and I was able to update all the antimalware software on the computer. When I heard Boop and saw what it meant, I thought my usage limit was over forever. But just for a hoot, I tried again the next day, and it worked fine. Boop came much quicker, though. Generally, Boop comes after about 2M have been transferred, but yesterday I had a session that went more than 17M. Moreover, you don't have to wait; you just have to reconnect, which is only a very slight annoyance. Only hardship is that really big downloads aren't possible unless you start and stop many times, and that usually messes up the file that you're transferring. As mine usually involve computer security, that's a pretty big shortfall.
The paid version is only $7, a trifle. I'm still slightly annoyed about the bait and switch aspect; if they had said in advance that it was a trial version with a usage limit, I'd have had no problem, but they didn't. However, reviews indicate that the paid version is very good and well worth the price, so no doubt I'll stop being annoyed and come across shortly. This would also make switching over to the new notebook a lot quicker and safer. OK, gotta run; Boop is coming!
This app is free-- sort of. After a while, it goes Boop and when you look at the phone it tells you that your usage limit has been reached and your hotspot has been turned off. The length of "a while" varies greatly, however. The first session was crazy long and I was able to update all the antimalware software on the computer. When I heard Boop and saw what it meant, I thought my usage limit was over forever. But just for a hoot, I tried again the next day, and it worked fine. Boop came much quicker, though. Generally, Boop comes after about 2M have been transferred, but yesterday I had a session that went more than 17M. Moreover, you don't have to wait; you just have to reconnect, which is only a very slight annoyance. Only hardship is that really big downloads aren't possible unless you start and stop many times, and that usually messes up the file that you're transferring. As mine usually involve computer security, that's a pretty big shortfall.
The paid version is only $7, a trifle. I'm still slightly annoyed about the bait and switch aspect; if they had said in advance that it was a trial version with a usage limit, I'd have had no problem, but they didn't. However, reviews indicate that the paid version is very good and well worth the price, so no doubt I'll stop being annoyed and come across shortly. This would also make switching over to the new notebook a lot quicker and safer. OK, gotta run; Boop is coming!
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Crazy
Might be a parable. There could be a guy who is crazy about a girl. At the same time the girl is crazy about the guy. But somehow they're so scared of each other or of themselves or of them both that they totally fail to communicate, except to drive each other even crazier. It's like they each set a terrible hex on the other and now they each believe the other is so great that he or she can never be approached.
Once this pattern is set, it can go on for years, until Jane Austen is spinning in her grave from trying to kick herself for not thinking of it first. Or maybe she did; I've read no Jane Austen. And there's no way to know and no one to ask because each thinks the other hates him or her. Like eternal seventh grade. It might be a fantasy. It might be a dream. It might be a parable.
Once this pattern is set, it can go on for years, until Jane Austen is spinning in her grave from trying to kick herself for not thinking of it first. Or maybe she did; I've read no Jane Austen. And there's no way to know and no one to ask because each thinks the other hates him or her. Like eternal seventh grade. It might be a fantasy. It might be a dream. It might be a parable.
Monday, December 3, 2012
I don't like comedy
All right, that's not quite true. I like comedy fine; I don't like the word. This comes from decades of television watching, especially TV ad watching. The word just never goes away. The ads hammer and hammer you with it, always tying in one-liners that are never, ever funny. Laugh tracks don't help either, though those are usually left out of the ads, mercifully.
I think it's all because comedy is based on surprise. If somebody tells you that this is the funniest movie you've ever saw, well, I think we've all had this experience. You sit stone-faced through the entire thing. Whereas if you had been told only that it's a fairly good movie, you might have laughed your ass off. The only sitcoms I've liked as an adult were ones that nobody told me about and that I happened to start watching without seeing ads first. As to movies, I think I was told that "The Princess Bride" was very good, but not that it was wildly funny (it was). I was surprised to like "Shrek" because its ads were so annoying, but at least those were more of a guerilla campaign; no claims of funniness or of anything at all, really. The campaign almost kept me away, but it didn't raise any extreme expectations.
I think when I get my sitcom and have to make my annoying promos for it, I'm going to tell people that they shouldn't worry, it won't be funny at all. We'll be doing Chekhov plays. In Russian!
I think it's all because comedy is based on surprise. If somebody tells you that this is the funniest movie you've ever saw, well, I think we've all had this experience. You sit stone-faced through the entire thing. Whereas if you had been told only that it's a fairly good movie, you might have laughed your ass off. The only sitcoms I've liked as an adult were ones that nobody told me about and that I happened to start watching without seeing ads first. As to movies, I think I was told that "The Princess Bride" was very good, but not that it was wildly funny (it was). I was surprised to like "Shrek" because its ads were so annoying, but at least those were more of a guerilla campaign; no claims of funniness or of anything at all, really. The campaign almost kept me away, but it didn't raise any extreme expectations.
I think when I get my sitcom and have to make my annoying promos for it, I'm going to tell people that they shouldn't worry, it won't be funny at all. We'll be doing Chekhov plays. In Russian!
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Adventures
This past Friday, me and Pop went out on adventures. It was none of our intention. He just wanted to get some home medical equipment. However, he's been out of circulation for a while and the world has changed a bit. I took him to Long's Drugs on Kilbourne Road where he used to get his supplies. Unfortunately, Long's Drugs no longer has salespeople for home medical equipment in their individual stores. Instead, they've centralized the operation out by the Interstate. The very nice young man gave us the phone number and address. I knew the general vicinity and called out a landmark that I thought would get me there and he said I was right.
We went back to Margaret's house to try calling, since I have no common sense and completely forgot that there was a cell phone in my pocket. Unfortunately (that word comes up a lot in this story), the phone number he gave us didn't work, so we went out to try our luck in person. I went to the place where the landmark we agreed on was. There was a home medical supplies company there but it wasn't Long's Drugs. (On retrospect, I think the young man and I were both somewhat familiar with the area but not up-to-date. I believe Long's Drugs used to be in the complex, which originally had been home to a Circuit City. The landmark in question was If It's Paper, which is also gone. Tempus fugit.) The lady at Not Long's Drugs was reasonably friendly and helpful, but didn't actually have what Dad needed. However, she did send us on to Actual Long's Drugs, though like me she had a certain difficulty with left and right.
When I sorted the directions out, I found Long's Drugs no problem. They DID have what Dad needed, but had to check if Medicare would pay for it and if they had it in stock. Somehow, this wound up taking over a half hour. Finally they came back with the only thing on Dad's list that they had in stock. Unfortunately (see?), it wasn't actually on his list. So the trip was a washout in the short term, though they will ship him his stuff by Tuesday. Also he got a business card with their correct phone numbers on it, and they have his current address and phone number. So everybody's caught up and we win. Yay!
We went back to Margaret's house to try calling, since I have no common sense and completely forgot that there was a cell phone in my pocket. Unfortunately (that word comes up a lot in this story), the phone number he gave us didn't work, so we went out to try our luck in person. I went to the place where the landmark we agreed on was. There was a home medical supplies company there but it wasn't Long's Drugs. (On retrospect, I think the young man and I were both somewhat familiar with the area but not up-to-date. I believe Long's Drugs used to be in the complex, which originally had been home to a Circuit City. The landmark in question was If It's Paper, which is also gone. Tempus fugit.) The lady at Not Long's Drugs was reasonably friendly and helpful, but didn't actually have what Dad needed. However, she did send us on to Actual Long's Drugs, though like me she had a certain difficulty with left and right.
When I sorted the directions out, I found Long's Drugs no problem. They DID have what Dad needed, but had to check if Medicare would pay for it and if they had it in stock. Somehow, this wound up taking over a half hour. Finally they came back with the only thing on Dad's list that they had in stock. Unfortunately (see?), it wasn't actually on his list. So the trip was a washout in the short term, though they will ship him his stuff by Tuesday. Also he got a business card with their correct phone numbers on it, and they have his current address and phone number. So everybody's caught up and we win. Yay!
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Oh, the usual
I once again have to note that this almost 2-year-long unbroken streak of daily (however briefly) blogging might come to an end at any moment, as the elderly computer is playing up a bit. Or at least Windows is unhappy with me; I can't download Windows Updates, and none of the solutions they offer work. I suspect the problem might be with AVG 2013 free antivirus, which is a pain in the butt generally (what with adding a toolbar I didn't want, didn't ask for and couldn't decline). So I'm returning to Avast. Hopefully, they haven't lost their minds as well. It couldn't have been all that great or I wouldn't have switched back to AVG. Though I suspect that AVG was a smaller download, a big deal in Dialuppia.
So hopefully with Avast, Windows Updates will work again and all will be peachy. If not, well, I've had the new laptop for six months now. I've just been reluctant to put it into full swing because of all the passwords and whatnot I'd have to transfer, not to mention having to go through another massive antivirus download. Dunno how long it would take to get it up and running, but unless something really dreadful happens when I switch this one to Avast, I can still use this. So it's unlikely any days will be missed (and less likely anyone's up worrying about it) but what the hey, just thought I'd mention it.
Speaking of the usual, I had further baroque dreams last night, this time again demonstrating that if John gets a little cold, he dreams of ice and snow. There was also some business where some guy had taken over part of my dad's house (which as usual had nothing in common with my dad's actual house) for some kind of medical facility and some other person had taken over the rest as a hotel or restaurant or both. I threw out the first guy and was worried when he didn't take his patients with him. I was relieved on the whole when he came back. It must have been the ice and snow.
So hopefully with Avast, Windows Updates will work again and all will be peachy. If not, well, I've had the new laptop for six months now. I've just been reluctant to put it into full swing because of all the passwords and whatnot I'd have to transfer, not to mention having to go through another massive antivirus download. Dunno how long it would take to get it up and running, but unless something really dreadful happens when I switch this one to Avast, I can still use this. So it's unlikely any days will be missed (and less likely anyone's up worrying about it) but what the hey, just thought I'd mention it.
Speaking of the usual, I had further baroque dreams last night, this time again demonstrating that if John gets a little cold, he dreams of ice and snow. There was also some business where some guy had taken over part of my dad's house (which as usual had nothing in common with my dad's actual house) for some kind of medical facility and some other person had taken over the rest as a hotel or restaurant or both. I threw out the first guy and was worried when he didn't take his patients with him. I was relieved on the whole when he came back. It must have been the ice and snow.
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