Thanks to alleywriter for soliciting stories for me. I really would like to see it written (referring to the "Herr Dresser on Fire" thought I had earlier).
Also, a word to the wise (from the not-so-wise): if you order soup at a restaurant and the spoon has a little jaggy edge that catches on your lip, don't drink orange juice right afterwards. Ouch.
Life is in the details today. It is a day without weather, it seems. Or maybe it's just a day without a season. It feels like neither summer nor spring, not winter or fall. It's just a mild day. As I walked to work, I thought about grabbing a Willamette Weekly, but there were no papers in the newspaper stand thingy. There was a pair of pants, but no newspapers. Since I was already wearing pants, I just kept walking.
When I got in the elevator, there was another person in there. He got off on the third floor, and just as the doors were closing, I watched him straighten out the 'T' of his company's logo that was hanging on the wall.
Why was that 'T' crooked? I found myself wondering. It was fairly high on the wall, so if someone was leaning on it, they'd have to be really tall. And who is missing their pants? They are missing them, aren't they?
This is all rather banal, and fits under the category of "neither here nor there". Kind of like the weather.
Oh, and I thought it would be funny if someone wrote a story about a German man and the story was called "Herr Dresser on Fire". Write it for me, won't you?
Holy couch potato, Batman! (via Alice in TV Land)
I just rememberd that I sometimes get annoyed when people put a link on their page and don't tell you what it's about, so I have returned to edit this entry. The 'holy couch potato' link goes to a story on Bill Clinton being considered as the next anchor for The Early Show.
Another list for you: TV Guide's top 50 shows of all time. Kinda looks like CBS paid someone off, eh?
My muffin lady continues to be interested in my dating life. I said something this morning about how I'd like to take a day off and just sleep. She told me that would be boring and that I should "make a boyfriend." I'm not sure how I would go about making a boyfriend, but I'm having funny thoughts of a chick version of the movie Weird Science. Disconcertingly, the Gumby theme song is stuck in my head because the image of someone making a boyfriend out of a little ball of clay also occurred to me.
Because I like to be liked, here's a little wink to alleywriter.
Other bloggage I discovered yesterday that looks like it will be interesting and fun to peek in at every now and again: bluishorange and Jason Fush.
Last night was Stephen Hawking night. Wow. I'm afraid that his lecture raised more questions than it answered, both with regards to theoretical physics and the man himself, but I'm really glad I went. Duane, Chris, and Chris' dad went, too. As an aside, I feel lucky to know three people who will go see Dr. Stephen Hawking on a Friday night and then talk about theoretical physics with me. Not that I'm super smart when it comes to theoretical physics, but it's good for brain flexing.
First, I will give you my impressions of the lecture. I want to say that I'm impressed beyond all belief with Stephen Hawking, and I wish he didn't have ALS so that his body could keep up with his brain. If you didn't know, he's confined to a wheelchair, and uses some kind of a switch to painstakingly select words one by one on a computer that is mounted to his wheelchair. He concatenates the words into a sentence, and then sends the 'go' command, which tells his voice synthesizer to speak the sentence(s) he's just created. His assistant, a cute British boy named Neil, told us that Hawking manages to get about 4-12 words per minute, and that the lecture he delivered probably took around 40 hours to put together. It must be frustrating to not be able to respond quickly to a question, or a thought. I can only wonder how much of what he thinks/discovers in the world he inhabits, which I imagine to be almost entirely cerebral, goes unrecorded, unsaid, or is not worth the effort.
I didn't expect him to have a sense of humor. Of course, I don't think anybody expects scientists to have senses of humor, and sometimes they don't. I've come to realize, though, that the ones that get to go on tour tend to have a way of connecting with their audiences. Hawking made jokes about hoping scientists discover very small black holes (which wouldn't suck the earth into their gravity fields, despite the fear-tactic headlines) so that he'll get a Nobel Prize. He showed us a clip from the Star Trek where he appeared as a hologram, and made a few references to his appearance on The Simpsons. He also made a funny joke about fossils being put in the earth by God to trick Darwin into believing in evolution. While most of his body remains inert, he does smile when he makes a joke, and it obviously pleases him to hear the audience laugh. That sounded condescending, but I didn't intend it to be -- it was the one way anybody in the audience could tell what was going on inside his head.
I was a little disappointed with the audience, but am not sure that I can blame them. There were a lot of pauses during the lecture that took a minute or more while Hawking found and sent the command to speak his next idea. During these pauses, people were noisy. Everyone should know by now to turn off their cell phones before an event like that. Beeping watches are just as annoying now as they ever were. The questions that were asked when Neil came out to help with the Q&A session bordered on the banal. There were a few good questions, but all the God questions and the "does Dr. Hawking play X-box" questions were a little odd. Most of the questions were personal questions for Dr. Hawking that his assistant was unable to answer.
So, the questions I have with regard to the lecture have to do with the theory that the brane (an object that occupies hidden dimensions) we live on is like a big balloon or bubble that is expanding. Brane theory challenges part of the Big Bang Thoery. Does the bubble/balloon theory preclude the possibility that there's a shadow world and a shadow brane about 1cm away from ours? I know it's separate from that, but are they mutually exclusive? What's inside the balloon? Hawking said it is 5-dimensional space, but is there any matter in there? Also, how did it start? In a vacuum, he said, and then, somehow, this brane just kind of... what? popped out of the vacuum? Why? What is it that squashed together to create this bubble? I have others, but you probably find this boring, so I'll stop now. I think I need a trip to the bookstore, pronto.
One thing that surprised me is that Neil referred to Hawking's alter-ego as MC Hawking. I'm glad he knows about it, and apparently doesn't mind it at all. Here are some links, for those of you who haven't been following Hawking's musical career (they contain bad language):
MC Hawking MP3s
Interview with rapper, MC Hawking
Also, I should give a nod to ISEPP who do a great job with their lecture series. I've attended three of the lectures they've put on now, and I must say that I'm becoming a big fan.
Ooh, fun. Wu Names for the President and his staff. Other McSweeney's lists are fun, too.
I know this is nerd blasphemy, but I'm more excited about the Spiderman movie than I am about Star Wars Episode II. Don't get me wrong. I'll go see Star Wars and probably really enjoy it. But Spiderman's just got me all giddy and excited. I'm beginning to think it must have been my favorite cartoon as a kid. Or maybe it's just because I finally saw a full trailer for the Scooby Doo movie and it looks so utterly lame that I was disappointed beyond all belief, but then I saw the Spiderman trailer and it was a great consolation to me. Sometimes, believe it or not, things like this matter.
I have just returned from watching David Sedaris speak. I haven't laughed that hard for quite awhile, at least not for almost two hours. Or maybe it was an hour and a half; time is irrelevant when you're having fun. That's why it tends to fly.
David Sedaris is funny and charming and a thousand things you wouldn't necessarily expect him to be. He puts things in a way that makes them funny. He explained it during the question and answer period. Someone asked how much of his stuff is real, because it mostly sounds absurd. To paraphrase, he said that if you say something, you're just saying it, but if you describe it, it can be funny. "For instance," he said, though this quote is inexact, "if you say 'Ally McBeal', people think of the TV show. However, if you say it's a 1-hour show about an 85-pound lawyer that was popular in the US for several years, it calls some things into question."
Someone else asked him to sing, and he said that he doesn't do that anymore. This news was met with groans from the audience, but he stuck to his guns and none of us held it against him.
Sedaris said that he's not sure why people go listen to him speak. I looked around the crowded Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall, every seat taken, and it seemed obvious to me. We were there to laugh.
Beyond that, we were there to get a glimpse into the world of a person who has a wonderful way of putting things. We were there to listen to a man who has probably pissed off his family with the amount of information he has given about them, without realizing the consequences, and we're all a little voyeuristic. We were there because we like stories. Almost every question that was asked can be summed up like this: "Mr. Sedaris, please tell me a story." And he did.
Just don't ask him to sing.
Gene Ray updated timecube.com. Yikes. "God belief is a deadly virus inflicting cannibalistic end of educated stupid humans."
I'm not sure what he means by that, but he sounds pretty serious. He's the self-proclaimed wisest human, though, so it's no wonder his words don't make sense to me (for I am educated stupid).
I'm troubled by his dangling participles, though. Take this sentence, for example: "One day, vines will cover New York like Aztec ruins." Aztec ruins don't cover New York, as far as I know. Or does he mean that Aztec ruins tend to cover things like vines?
Next example: "Students are really stupid, without Cubic life wisdom, and yellow belly cowards." Does that mean that if we had yellow belly cowards, we'd be smarter?
Okay, I'm being purposely obtuse, but I think if Gene Ray brushed up on his grammar, we might have a better chance of understanding him, and he clearly has a lot to say (he just doesn't say it clearly).
You know that kid on the fast food commercial (I forget which one) who says, "When I was a kid a dollar really meant something..."? He irritates the hell out of me. In about ten or fifteen years, he and the Welch's Grape Juice girl, the one who smacks her lips, should get together. They'd have the most annoying family in the whole world.
Here are some silly math cartoons for you.
There's a question we must all ask ourselves at some point, and that question is: Are you smarter than Miss America?
I just had some Nutter Butters and milk. Mmmm. In searching for a link to the Nutter Butter site, though, I learned that Nabisco and Kraft have merged, which makes Nabisco (and therefore Nutter Butters) part of the Philip Morris Corporation.
I know the Philip Morris ads make it sound like they're a nice, sweet company and they don't actually want us all to be fat sloppy smokers who funnel all of our paychecks into their coffers, but are they really that nice? I have a hard time believing that's true, no matter how altruistic they try to look. The fact that they're looking to change their name and logo would suggest I'm not alone.
Cherz's post from today reminded me that a girl I used to work with is supposed to marry a guy she met on the bus, or maybe she already has. Strange little world we live in, isn't it? Of course, my world and your world are probably lots different. Maybe not.
I've got that whole lethargy thing going: nothing seems important enough to actually do. But I'm going to see David Sedaris and Stephen Hawking this week, so at least I'll get some laughs and have some good brain activity going on.
If you received an e-mail addressed to Sir or Madam from someone who thinks your website is nerdygirl.com, I apologize. At least one person got the same e-mail I got, which tells me what a wonderful site I have while making it obvious that the sender (Mellisa) has never, ever been to my website. They then suggest that I am not listed in enough search engines and am desparately in need of their services. It's so good to know they're looking out for me.
I think this happened because some of the surveys on my site used to have mailto links. I took them off a few weeks back, anticipating such a bold maneuver on the part of spammers everywhere, but it would appear I was not in time. Sorry.
Oh dear. Seems like the folks at Longs Drugs have a good sense of humor -- let's hope the winner of their LPGA tour does, as well.
I forgot to tell you how much I like Les Schwab Tire Centers. This is the third time they've come to my rescue and not charged me. You gotta love that.
Last week, I was driving and I noticed that my car was doing this weird bumpetty-bumpetty-bumpetty thing. It didn't seem to matter if the car was in neutral, in gear, or whatever, as long as I was moving, so I astutely ruled out any engine problems and figured it probably had something to do with my tires. I investigated my tires and, using my excellent deductive skills, decided it probably had something to do with the huge bolt stuck in one of my tires. Luckily, no air was leaking out, but I figured it was probably best to have the bolt extracted anyhow. I took my car to a Les Schwab location near me, and dropped it off. I went to work, worked, and went back to pick it up later. The girl handed me my keys and I said, "How much do I owe you?"
"Nothing," she said. "Just remember us next time you need tires."
I will say that the girl was pretty distracted and not all that friendly. She didn't respond at all to my "Wow, that's so cool!" or anything like that. I'm not sure what she was looking at most of the time, to be sure, so I decided she probably has a huge crush on one of the tire guys and maybe they're having a fight or something and I didn't hold it against her.
Anyhow, that's the second time that I've been to Les Schwab for flat tire type problems and they haven't charged me. Also, one time I did buy tires at Les Schwab and then I ran over some big metal thing in the road and got a flat, and they replaced it for FREE. Even though it wasn't their fault. They've got that whole customer service thing down, that's for sure.
The weekend was wonderful. We surprised my mom -- it was her and my step-dad's anniversary, so I met them in Hood River and took my brother while they had their anniversary weekend alone. I took Luke snowboarding; it was his first time and I have to say that he did very well. By the end of the day, he got down the bunny slope without falling -- twice, if I'm not mistaken. The kid's a natural. After we got back from the mountain, we played some basketball and he kicked my butt, even though I've got a good five or six inches on him. He's a lot of fun.
I just finished Microserfs, and there are parts of it that I feel I could have written. I know that probably makes me sound like a poser, but you'll just have to trust me on that.
Anyhow, it got me to thinking about memory and the loss thereof, but the fact that all our memories -- even the ones we can't remember -- are stored in our brains somewhere. It's just that some of them are trapped there. I'm concious lately of my memory getting worse. I've always had a pretty good memory, but lately, it's as if I'm throwing too much information at it, so it's letting a lot of things sort of slide off. I think that's one of the major challenges of our world today: information management. Where do we put it all; how do we make it make sense? How do we tie it all together? I've noticed that my brain always feels a lot more clear when I spend some time away from the internet and TV and even books; when I go hiking or ride my bike for awhile, or just go sit in the park.
Then I remembered that there was this advertising jingle for one of those gelatinous fruit snack products back in 1986 or thereabouts. I memorized the whole thing while I was sick one day. The weird thing is that I remember that I memorized the song, but I can't remember the words or the tune or anything; just that some of the girls at school had been singing it, so I paid attention every time it came on the TV while I was sick and then I knew it. Weird, huh? I figure that jingle is in there somewhere, and one day when I'm maybe a bit batty with old age, it will unlock itself and I'll just start singing it in the garden or something. Then I'll probably try to tell someone about it, but they'll look at me like I'm nuts, which I probably will be.
Anyhow, the topic of information management reminds me of the lecture James Burke gave about the knowledge web he's creating and the fact that I need to learn more about that. I wish I had all the money in the world, because I'd just go back to school permanently and think and learn and be in that whole energetic environment where everybody's accepting and creating new ideas and having ridiculous philosophical discussions over Top Ramen and cheap wine. Ah, the good old days...
Curious about the feasibility of having a seismograph at home, I did a quick google search and found out that you can build one. How fun! Maybe when I get a house, I'll build me a seismograph!
I was reading about the Abercrombie and Fitch faux pas and the fallout today and I got to thinking how offended people get. I'm not saying people don't have a right to be offended for this (or for anything else), but I have noticed over the past few years how offended people tend to get, and how frequently it tends to happen.
If you are looking to take offense, you will find ample reason to. That's the conclusion I've come to. I was talking with my friend Bruce on the bus this morning, and this subject came up. I told him that I think being offended is a choice. Of course, this only works to a certain degree. Some things are truly offensive.
This is where perspective comes in handy. Maybe we could spend a little more time evaluating whether or not something is REALLY worth getting upset about. Maybe we can just realize that some of the people who say or do the things that offend us are ridiculous and wrong and oftentimes don't have much clout to begin with. I can't get offended every time someone makes a derogatory remark about women; it would make me angry and bitter (okay, more angry and bitter). Also, I don't have a lot of extra energy to put into being angry about every thoughtless remark I hear.
No, it's not simple. There are a thousand factors that come into play, even more exceptions to every rule. But I think we'd all be a lot happier if we could just let some of the negatives roll off us, like water off a duck's back.
I'm reading Microserfs by Douglas Coupland right now. I feel like I'm reading it about five years too late, but it's interesting and is less outdated than I originally thought it would be.
Do you like how I contradicted myself in that last sentence?
At any rate, my favorite quote from the book so far is, "Why do nerds make pyramids out of everything?" So true!
In general, this book has struck a chord with me, much more so than Generation X did. I like the philosophical musings, the geeky machine-talk, etc. It's a good book for generating thought, and Coupland is amusing in his cynicism towards advertising (always a plus for me). I would guess it's probably boring for people who don't know a fair amount about computers.
Speaking of which, I had this rather amusing conversation with a nameless friend of mine:
She: Did you talk to <other friend> about the book he's reading?
Me: Which book?
She: I can't remember, it was something really weird... Something about Annie Lennox or something?
Me: The lead singer of Eurythmics?
She: *sigh* I can't remember, but I didn't quite know what he was talking about. Something about computers and Annie Lennox.
Me: You mean Linux? The operating system he's installing?
She: I guess that could be it...
Tired of my whining? Me too. Go watch some David Hasselhoff videos. (Scroll down to the bottom of that page and watch 'Hooked on a feeling'.)
I went out looking for surface area equations on the web today, and I am disturbed by the way math is regarded by a lot of people. For instance, one site touted that it is "Math for morons like us!" Come ON, people. You do not have to be a genius to be good at math. In fact, you have to either be obstinately opposed to learning, or incredibly stupid to not understand some of the basic fundamentals of math. Just because it's popular to say, "I'm no good at math" does not make it true. That's like bragging that you can't read or speak your native language.
I'm not saying everybody should embrace mathematics as their life's calling, or even brush up on their algebra. What I am saying is that math is not as difficult to understand as people make it out to be. What I'm saying is that kids in school (particularly girls) are given the message that they should just blow off their math classes because lots of people around them didn't particularly like math to begin with.
I know the argument: when do you ever use algebra in your daily life? The answer, for me, is occassionally. What if we rephrase the question, though? What if, instead of the uses of algebra, we asked: when do you ever use logic and problem solving in your daily life? Every day.
I'm going to climb off my soap box now.
Regarding yesterday's rant: I actually used to be a decently big fan of the Blazers, but they were SO LAME last year. Actually, they started getting lame in the playoffs the year before, and they continued to be lame. First, they got rid of Brian Grant, one of Portland's favorites. Then they made the numerous bad hiring/firing decisions and the whole team virtually combusted. It culminated in the air ball Will Perdue threw up from the free-throw line in the playoffs. He was shooting a free throw. Air ball. FREE THROW -- nobody was contesting the shot. Nobody stripped the ball from his hands. Aargh. At any rate, they appear to be getting marginally better, so I'll probably end up being a fan again at some point, as long as they stop whining.
I am cranky beyond belief today. I've been sleeping on my couch until I can move my bed into my spare room so that it is not underneath my upstairs neighbor's room. Let's call my neighbor TJ for "The Jackass". If you haven't heard me complain already, he snores, walks like he's got concrete blocks strapped to his feet, and he now has a girlfriend who laughs like a hoot owl on speed (and the bed squeaks).
So last night, I was all ready to drift off on my couch, but I could hear him snoring. Turns out TJ fell asleep on his couch, too. So, I went in my room. I was just about to fall asleep when he noisily makes his way into his room. Of course he fell asleep before me and started snoring again. I finally got out the broom and started banging away, but there was no waking TJ up. Around midnight, I finally went back to the couch, but of course I couldn't sleep. I was too busy thinking of notes I could leave on his door. I think he's actually going to drive me insane by the time I move.
Dear Portland Trail Blazers,
I'm happy you won against the Lakers last night, but about half way through the fourth quarter, I was pretty upset with you guys. I turned on the game at half-time, so I missed Pippen's ejection and the throwing of the Bill Walton dolls -- what's up with that?
Regardless, you should know by now that you cannot rely on three-point shots to win a game. You got lucky last night because Bonzi rules, but Rasheed, come on! With your three-point percentage, you cannot keep shooting from outside like that. It's embarrassing.
You came back, though, with the help of three-point shooting. I'll admit that, but you wouldn't have needed those Hail Mary shots if you had just stuck with the solid play you are capable of. During the first overtime, you got behind, and it was a little upsetting. Not, however, upsetting enough to be kicking chairs and throwing temper tantrums. Again, it's embarrassing. I actually wanted you to lose at that point, and I still think you deserved to lose, because whiney babies should not win major NBA games. But the world is tricky and you managed to tie it up again to take the game into Overtime #2.
That's when I started to like you again, because you played well and (mostly) kept your mouths shut. I still wish you'd be more sportsman-like. I am trying to be a fan, I really am, because sometimes you do some amazing things and it makes me happy. But when you stop playing basketball and just yell at the officials and the other team and your team, it's hard to like you.
I guess that's what it all comes down to: less yelling, more playing. Please.
Thanks,
Would-be Fan
Speaking of lousy neighbors, John sent me this link today.
I am so ready to own a house. My upstairs neighbor and his girlfriend tromped up to his apartment at 11:00 last night. They entered the apartment after making quite a ruckus on the stairs and proceeded to walk around for a long time, with her intermittently laughing like a hoot owl on speed. This went on for quite awhile.
Both of them appear to tread with the same lightness of step one would expect of the Abominable Snowman. I finally grew extremely agitated and banged on the ceiling hard enough to hurt my hand, and they were quiet for awhile. But then they weren't quiet in a really icky way and it was gross gross gross. They got up around 6:45 this morning and started wandering around loudly again. Grrrr.
The good news is that the sellers of the house I made an offer on made me a counter-offer. I'm going to go by and look again, but I think I'll accept. This house appears to be far sturdier than the last one, so I don't expect any foundation problems. We shall see... I'm still trying not to get my hopes up.
Found the link to RuPaul's weblog on kungfukitten's site. Most excellent.
Looking for houses is difficult. It's a huge emotional experience. I won't assume that everybody goes through the same mental process I go through, but here's how it goes for me: I see a house from the outside. I feel like it's my house, and what does that say about me? If it's not cute, or if it's really run down, I think people will think of me as the girl who lives in that ugly house, and I feel kind of bad about myself. Or, I end up in full-on justification mode. I am the girl who is always seen fixing up her house, going in and out with 2X4s and paint and can you believe how much better that house looks? I am incredibly productive and become the superhero of the neighborhood for bringing up property values. All of my friends are impressed: "I never knew you were so handy with power tools!" they will marvel.
Also, when I look at a house, I try to imagine the driving directions I will give people. I've mapped out a lot of Portland that way. "You'll turn right at the Winchell's on Lombard," I imagine myself saying. Or else I'm typing an e-mail telling everybody I've moved and telling them about the house. "It's not much yet," I'll write. "But a new coat of paint and it will be fabulous!"
This all happens before I even go in the house. Then I walk in and imagine my furniture in the front room and wonder what people will think of me. "She could really use some help decorating" is the first thing I imagine them thinking. Sometimes, though, I convince myself that I have a nice subdued sense of style, but that's another story entirely. As I walk through the house, I think of what my mom would say. I also just look and remember houses I've lived in before and compare and contrast and try to imagine living there. My bed will go here, my shoes won't fit in that closet, the toilet's too close to the sink, the kitchen's too small (not that I'm a huge kitchen person). It goes on and on. The backyard is important because I'm pretending that I'll barbeque a lot when the weather gets nice.
If the house is a fixer-upper, I justify it by saying that I love doing little projects around the house and it will be wonderful to put some sweat equity into it. If the house is not a fixer-upper, I justify it by saying that it's much nicer to not have to always be doing little projects around the house. I am a master of justification.
Sometimes, a house just feels creepy. We went in one house and my friend Julie remarked that it felt like someone had been murdered there, so we left. There were a few houses where felt like I just shouldn't be there, and there have been a few that felt like I was at home (of course most of those had already been sold, unbeknownst to me).
If you go through all this with eight hundred houses, it can be a little mentally exhausting. I think that was my point when I started this.
The houses I've really liked, though, well enough to put offers on, I've known within the first two minutes. It's totally a gut feeling. And here I go again, putting in offer #2 today (the last one had foundation problems). Keep your fingers crossed for me. The house is cute (charming) with a nice backyard for my imaginary barbeques, a good-sized kitchen, and enough closet space for my shoes. I'll let you know how it goes.
There was a neat link on kottke.org today about how to properly use quotation marks. Okay, so it's not the most exciting thing in the world, but it's a subject I've actually spent a lot of time thinking about. I even had a rather lengthy conversation/debate with my old boss at the insurance company I used to work for on this very topic. She was a linguistics major, and ended up convincing me that periods always go inside the quote marks, but I still put the period outside quotation marks if I'm using them for emphasis at the end of a sentence when I'm feeling "rebellious".
Ooh. New fun site: rhymezone.com. If you are one of those who doesn't believe me when I say that nothing rhymes with orange, silver, or purple, go ahead and give it a try. I dare you.
According to the spam in my inbox today, I need to lose 20 pounds, bring my web site up to the 21st Century, save 40% on select Microsoft products, and read Yahoo!'s new privacy policy. Previously, it's been suggested that I fight hairloss early (that pesky male-pattern baldness is really getting me down) and subscribe to sites that will show me exciting pictures of naked co-eds. Still, I don't find this nearly as irritating as I find those stupid pop-under/pop-over ads. It's enough to make me want to disable JavaScript in my browser. It's certainly enough to make me avoid Yahoo! at all costs, even if it means missing the exciting new text of their privacy policy, which probably says that they are selling my e-mail address and my soul if I don't complain in writing by last Thursday.
Monday morning came early today, what with the whole Daylight Savings Time thing and all. I had a great weekend, though. Some good friends took me to Camp 18 for my birthday (belated) and then hiking up at Cape Falcon. Then they took me to Powell's and gave me a gift certificate, so I bought a whole bunch of books and went home tired and relaxed and happy. What a wonderful day, doing the things I love to do! Good times, good times.
I had a hard time finding a good site about Camp 18. Maybe I'll have to make one. It's the coolest place to eat when you're on your way out to the Oregon coast. Of course, you can't go ordering lots of fancy schmancy food. It's best to stick with the basics: omlettes, pancakes, etc. The cinnamon rolls are as big as my head, so we shared one between the five of us. The food portions are big, the coffee comes in big cups, and then they leave a carafe on your table! Kind of like IHOP, but better coffee and bigger carafes. Outside, there is a whole bunch of logging equipment and a little trail that runs along a creek you can walk along. I feel rather uneloquent this morning, so I'm not saying this right. But basically, my point is that Camp 18 rules. Diggety.
Also, congratulations to Leslie, who has her first showing in a gallery at Cannon Beach. We got to see her paintings hanging on the wall, and it's really great. She is incredibly talented. Yay, Leslie!
Ahh, beautiful, beautiful technology.
Single? Looking for luv? Maybe you should apply to be a contestant on the BlindDateBlog.
Reading text on the web can be confusing. Without the vocal intonations that help us gauge context and meaning in ordinary conversations, we can sometimes misinterpret what we're reading. If you're having trouble with this, you might try installing the Irony Plugin. It's done wonders for John Ashcroft.
On a completely unrelated note, I'm finally looking into putting comments on this site and automating my surveys. I'd like to go with Perl and flat files. There is a lot of information out there, but what I'm looking for are some good, solid recommendations on how to do this. I don't know much Perl, but I'm a smart cookie and can usually figure things out. Any ideas? E-mail me.
It's definitely Spring, which means that it's time for me to bust out my favorite e.e. cummings poem (which is on the quotes page, but people never look there).
sweet springtime
is my time, is your time, is our time
springtime is love time
and viva sweet love
I just sat in on an informational Voice XML brownbag. Way cool. I'm especially interested in the grammar/semantic structuring and the human factors. I can't help thinking that, from a cognitive standpoint, it has to be hard to have a conversation with a machine-generated voice, especially if you're in traffic and people are cutting you off. It's difficult to keep the thread of a conversation if you don't have that human connection... Anyhow, much food for thought. Oh, and if you are a linguistics major looking for a real-world application, you should look into Voice XML. There's no way your typical programmer is going to correctly capture the subtle nuances of language. (Disclaimer note: I said typical programmer.)
I slept on the couch again last night because of my upstairs neighbor. He wasn't snoring this time. I didn't actually think anything would be worse than that. But he apparently has a girlfriend now, and that is much, much worse. She laughs like a hoot owl on speed. Their murmuring and her hooting laugh and then the, squeaking and the, er... other noises... became unbearable. I'd way rather camp out on the couch.
The cow thing is happening in Portland now. I nominate the cow on the North side of Pioneer Square (by the Max tracks) as the cow most likely to get peed on.
Portland is sending a very clear message today: Spring is here. As soon as the sun starts to shine, even a little, it's shocking to see how many people actually live in this city. I forget about them during the winter months, but as soon as the weather starts to get a little nice, they're like worms after the first rain. People are everywhere!
Here's my mini-list of the early indicators of spring in my world:
* The bike couriers are lounging around at the tables outside Starbucks
* I put on my less heavy jacket today and found $11 in the pocket (this only happens after months of not wearing a particular item of clothing)
* The woman with no arms is back to riding my bus
* All the flowers are a dead giveaway
If I could teach one thing to every person developing out on the web, it would probably be cellpadding. Or, if you're using stylesheets (which are way cooler than tables), just padding. Why? Because my pet peeve is to see text right up against the edge of a table or a div with a different background color.
So, I rode my bike to work today. It was a balmy 45 degrees outside. It's supposed to get up to 65 today, and it's not even August yet! Riding my bike to work showed me exactly why I need to start riding my bike to work every day. I am out of shape. Badly. The horrible thing is that I now have to ride home, which is much more of an uphill ride than the ride to work. I think I can I think I can I think I can.
I'm shocked (SHOCKED!) to find out that teenagers drink alcohol. I do seriously find it odd that "excessive drinking" is considered to be five or more drinks in a row. Call me a lightweight, but I get a little loopy after two. I think, for eighth graders, excessive would be somewhere around three, maybe four if they're on the hefty side. Of course, if you're my little brother or any of his friends, you shouldn't be drinking at all, okay? And stay away from girls. They're nothing but trouble.
I just tried sushi for the second time ever. Well, except for the horrible experience I had with my ex-boyfriend when he tried to kill me with wasabi, but I only had one bite then, so I'm thinking that doesn't count. Today, I went to Obi. My favorite thing about the restaurant is that if you look up, there's a piece of paper taped to one of the exposed beams that says "Don't look at ceiling! Look at sushi!!"
I have, for better or worse, made the switch to blogger. This should make the whole archiving thing a lot easier, if it works. Of course, I was having a bit of trouble with the archiving feature when I was testing this out, so maybe it won't help at all. Time will tell.
Much more interesting than all that, though, is the article on blogging out at Pioneer Press. Or origins of um and er in the English language.
Better yet, go pick up a copy of Survivor by Chuck Palahniuk (author of Fight Club). Duane gave it to me for my birthday, and it was sooo good. The writing style is good, the sarcasm is good, the word mordant, which is used to describe it on the back cover is good. The word good, however, is irritating me now. I've used it too much in this paragraph. It's not so good.
