It is heartwarming to know that sometimes telemarketers can save your life. Leo from work pointed out that freezing temperatures can't recharge batteries, though. According to the Battery Myths page, they can stop the battery from losing a charge as quickly, but they don't necessarily recharge it.
I smell a conspiracy. Does anybody know for sure whether freezing your cell phone battery will recharge it?
This world is nothing short of hell for the impatient. It is an unfortunate side-effect of beaurocracy, red tape, and dealing with other people that by the time I ever get what I want, I'm so tired of the whole f---ing thing that I don't even want it anymore.
If you're having trouble ordering a pizza, brunching.com will help you.
Not moving Saturday. Damn.
In high school, we made a shoe out of a loaf of french bread. We never thought to use pork chops. Probably because we're not Australian.
What's up with the Amazon Gold Box thing? Why do they think I need lots of power tools? I've been through their Gold Box four different times, and have never felt the slightest twinge of regret at clicking on "Pass and deny yourself the pleasures of this most excellent voltmeter forever". Call me crazy, but even with an extra discount of $3.60, I can't work my way around to believing that I need a voltmeter.
Okay, the house update: I had a long discussion with the builder last night, and things are looking up. The Builder is actually a pretty laid-back kind of guy, and I honestly believe that he's not trying to screw me over or make my life difficult. When he told me what he meant by the CC&Rs, I totally agreed with him. Unfortunately, that's not what the document he filed says, so I am going to propose some verbiage and he's going to help me get it all accepted and recorded after I buy the house. Sure, he could bail on that plan and be of no help once all the papers are signed and I'd just kind of be screwed, but I don't think he'd do that.
Now I just need to figure out whether or not I can actually close tomorrow and still move in on Saturday. Also, I need to learn some better stress management techniques.
Best typo ever: "Owners and Occupants shall exercise extreme care not to make noises and may disturb others."
That's from the ultra-lengthy Declaration of Covenants, Conditions and Restrictions for the townhouse I'm supposed to be buying. There were a few other typos, including one sentence that just shouldn't exist because it makes no sense, but the aforementioned is the best by far.
In non-house-related news, I'm trying to get my cubicle neighbors to cheer when people sneeze instead of saying, "bless you." It started with Leo reminding me of the Seinfeld episode where they say, "You are so good looking." I tried it out once, but it felt kind of weird. Also, since all but one of my co-workers are male, there are probably some HR concerns with that. Besides, it's way more fun to shout out "woo hoo!" when someone sneezes.
I forgot about MatNnet. (Link via bluishorange.) If you've never seen it, check out The Rerouted Rice Report. Actually, you'll probably only enjoy that if you have seen MathNet before. It's so corny!
Some little tidbits:
Anyone can make techno music, according to Chris Baty (the man behind nanowrimo).
If you're in Rhode Island, you can rest easy now that the renegade footlicker is in custody. (Link via neuralnexus.)
Chris Randall of Sister Machine Gun has some good links. I found this article on media and monopoly very interesting. Also, I agree that it's silly to think of going to Wal-Mart for a Linux box.
Last night, I met my new kitty cat. I will be able to have him when I move to my new house (yay!). In the meantime, he's staying with a very nice man named Arthur. He's a pretty kitty with bright blue eyes, although he's slightly cross-eyed. I think it was decided that he's an Oriental Shorthair. He's sleek and long, and kind of lanky and awkward, which I find endearing, because I'm a bit clumsy myself. I pet him for awhile and then he brought me a toy mouse to play with, so we played for awhile, but then I had to go home and pack. Ugh. You can see a picture of the kitty at Tracy's site, except you should ignore the text because he's my kitty now, not yours. I'd copy the picture over to my site, but I am extremely lazy.
"When I play a dope melody, anything less than the best is a felony."
Old school rap is all the rage at work these days. Run DMC, Young MC, LL Cool J... Oh yeah. I just downloaded Ice Ice Baby because I just wanted to hear that chipmunk voice at the beginning. "Yo Vanilla, kick it one time, boyeeee!" So fun!
The song reminds me of one day when I was in ninth grade -- my sister's high school boyfriend was giving me and a friend a ride home. We were having fun pointing out tourists and laughing at them; all the windows were rolled down and Vanilla Ice was in the tape player. When Vanilla "slammed on the gas," so did my sister's boyfriend, nearly hitting a pedestrian in the process. Fortunately, he slammed on the breaks in the nick of time.
Word to your mother.
Most people are under the impression that it rains a lot in Portland. It does, but probably not the way you think. We get rain for many days of the year, but it's not always RAIN. Mostly, it's just a nice misting as a storm passes over us, or a mild drizzle. A large number of Portlanders don't even own umbrellas, as they are only useful when it really, really rains and that doesn't happen as often as you might think. Well, that and the fact that we're all terribly snotty about being rugged and impervious to rain. Also, most of us dress as though we're on a perpetual camping trip so there aren't a lot of "my beautiful clothes will get ruined!" concerns.
What the weather does do here is change constantly. It was a record-breaking 97 degrees last Thursday (which I thoroughly enjoyed). The next day, I believe the high temperature was in the 70's, a 20 degree difference. Not too shabby. Then, last night, I walked out of my apartment on my way to meet some friends for dinner. As I stepped onto the street, there was a deliciously loud boom of thunder, and the clouds were about a hundred different shades of gray. I walked quickly, expecting rain to start falling, and was not disappointed. It began to fall when I was about a block and a half away from the restaurant, and I was completely drenched by the time I got there and it felt great.
I was almost sad that I was so hungry. It would have been kinda nice to stay outside and jump in puddles.
Packing up all my things is making me nostalgic. I seem to be on a huge nostalgia kick anyhow these days. Change does that to me.
I have managed to pack most of my books. This was more of a mental hurdle than a physical one: the books on the shelves in my bedroom were so nicely alphabetized by author. The books in various locations throughout the rest of my house (including about 15 that had gathered like a snow drift on my nightstand) weren't as neatly ordered, so it was easier to match them up with like-sized volumes and pack them away. I did manage to keep books by the same author together, mostly. What self-indulgent silliness it is for me to even think it matters. Still, it's nice to spend an hour or two leafing through the pages of my favorite novels, re-reading the descriptions on their backs or flyleafs to see if I agree with the synopses offered there, remembering where I was and what my world was like when I read them for the first time... In a way, they're like old friends, my books.
While looking through a box of things I haven't seen in awhile, I found my Garbage Pail kids. I thought I had lost them, but there they are, in the same box with my Milli Vanilli tape, a photo of my mother, a reading light, my first pair of eyeglasses (ha!), and a slide of the sign that used to hang in the house we lived in in Idaho in the late 1970's. It says "Marilyn Monroe slept here" and it's above a poster of a decadent ice cream treat.
Happy Father's Day, to all dads everywhere. Most especially, to my two dads. (No, this isn't a "Heather Has Two Moms" kind of thing).
I'd just like to say that I'm super lucky to have both my dads, and I wish you both a wonderful Father's Day.
In one sense, I suppose it was only a matter of time. In another sense, this is ludicrous. Remember that fake inner-city math proficiency exam that was floating around the internet a few years back? Apparently, some dumbshit in Manitoba actually handed it out to her math class.
I drove by my house last night, and there was a big huge SOLD sign in my bedroom window. At least, those were my thoughts as I drove by. In reality, the sign is rather small and it's not actually my bedroom window yet, but that doesn't stop me from being excited about it.
Hey, Tony, my mom says "hi."
No, really. I did pay my ISP bill.
My web/mail hosts were having a very bad morning, from the sound of it. Everything was down. They gave a vague impression that it had to do with the disk(s) on the server(s), but didn't go into detail. At any rate, it appears to be back up. If you have sent me e-mail, I probably didn't get it, but there's a good chance the mail delivery processes are really backed up and I'll get it eventually.
When I was 15, my family moved from Sonoma, CA to Chico. Even though we moved around a lot when I was younger, we had always stayed in Sonoma. This time, though, we left town altogether. I always felt sort of cheated because I never got to know what happened to everybody. Because 15-year-olds aren't great at keeping in touch, I lost contact with most of the people I knew from kindergarten through ninth grade. It's not like it was the worst thing that ever happened -- not by a long shot. I made so many dear friends in Chico that I can't regret any of it, but I do sometimes wonder about all my old school friends from Altimira Junior High.
Imagine my surprise, then, when an e-mail from one such school friend, Doug, showed up in my inbox, and the subject line read "8th grade". What a neat surprise! It truly made my day. It seems Doug was goofing off at work and happened upon my site. I had an entry a long time ago that mentioned two other people I went to Junior High with, and this made him think we probably knew each other. In the course of e-mailing, Doug gave me the address of yet another school friend, Howdy, and I e-mailed him. Perhaps it's silly, but I am really delighted to get to know more about what happened in the 12 years since I knew them. Like I said, I always felt sort of cheated, and this totally makes up for it.
Also, a lot of you will probably find this interesting, since most of you are fairly nerdy yourselves. Howdy gave me a link to details of a kinetic sculpture race (official site) he's done for four years, and Doug did for three years. It looks like a whole lot of fun. According to the pictures, Howdy has grown aproximately four feet since I last saw him. Either that, or he surrounds himself with midgets so he just looks big; both are equally believable.
One of my favorite lines from Futurama is when they're in the ocean and Dr. Zoidberg finds a crab shell. He puts it on, starts walking around and he says, "I'm Dr. Zoidberg, home owner!"
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I, too, am soon to be a home owner. More details will surely follow, but I don't have time right now. Suffice to say that I am buying a house that is near a lovely, lovely park and it has a washer/dryer so I can stop hoarding quarters like a maniac. Moreover, there is no upstairs neighbor, which means no snoring, no girlfriends that laugh like hoot owls during foreplay, no walking around and moving furniture noises at midnight or vacuuming above my bed at 8:30 on a holiday Monday. I will be giving up my view of the mountains (St. Helens, Adams, and Ranier on a clear day), but I still get to have that view at work, so I won't miss it too terribly. Also, the house is brand new, which means that I'll be able to work full-time and complete my degree without having to worry about maintenance. Yay!
When Welch's holds auditions for their grape juice commercials, do they purposely pick the creepiest kids they can find?
I'm listening to KMFDM's cover of Like a Prayer right now. It's making me giggle.
When I was a freshman in high school, I used to sing Madonna's version of the song while I was vacuuming. See, I have a terrible (terrible!) voice, and I figured that if I sang quietly, the vacuum would drown out the sound, and it worked for the most part. Other popular vacuuming songs included Don't Worry Be Happy, The Last of the Famous International Playboys, Punk Rock Girl, and anything off my Stacy Q tape.
In the market for a Jesus statue?
So, I was talking to my little brother last night. He's going to be in 8th Grade next year. Sheesh, time flies! I feel kind of bad for him, on account of the fact that 8th grade girls are the most evil creatures on the face of the earth and he will have to deal with them. Still, I guess everybody goes through it at some point.
He was telling me about this project they did in school last week where they made trees out of paper and then set fire to the "underbrush" and learned about forest fires. The idea was to have trees that were still standing when the underbrush was all gone, "but we made ours to burn," he told me. Kids. ;)
Ooh, Josh redesigned his site. I like.
Bored? Here's a story I wrote.
Yesterday, I had a really good meeting with an advisor about the degree completion program at PSU. I might be a student again come fall. Yay! The cool thing is that they work with working adults and let you take classes at night and sometimes on weekends (although I might try to avoid weekends). The downside is that I probably have somewhere in the neighborhood of 22 classes left to take. I'm assuming I can only take two classes at a time while working 40hrs/wk and still maintain my sanity. So, if I take 2 classes for three quarters a year, it will take me almost four years to get my degree. If I take 2 classes for four quarters a year, it will take almost three years. If I take 3 classes 3 quarters a year, I will most likely implode.
What degree? Well, there's another problematic question. Math or English. Flip a coin.
My main regret now is that when I was at CSU, Chico, I took too many general ed courses. Grr. The way it appears to be working out, if I have enough credits to give me junior-level standing (and I'm pretty sure I do), I'll get to skip the rest of the non-major required general ed. I so wish I had taken Shakespeare instead of trying to get other stupid courses out of the way (like the Leisure and Life joke... er, I mean class I took). Then again, if I hadn't taken classes like that, I probably would have stayed in college and graduated the first time around.
So, I see that the internet has managed to revolutionize the social workings of Junior High students. Lovely. In my inbox this morning, I received a message that someone thought I might have a crush on them, or something to that effect. If I went to the someonehasacrushonyou (or was it iknowsomethingyoudontknow?) site, I could then type in other people's e-mail addresses and see I guessed right. Is there any reason to think they are not gatherers of e-mail addresses for sinister (spam) purposes?
I did go to the site, but didn't type any e-mail addresses, but whoever you are, I guess I don't have a crush on you after all. Sorry. Mostly, I was looking for the radio buttons that said
Do you:
