Saturday, November 29, 2008

24) It's time for another episode of dumb things I did in college!

I lived in a co-op and we were allowed to paint our rooms provided we used officially approved colors.  I had stopped painting my room for the day and cleaned up.   I thought I had tamped down the lid sufficiently.  I went to bed.  The next morning when I bolted up to turn off my alarm, I kicked a can of bright green paint that I had thoughtfully placed in the middle of the room.  Thud.  Gloop.

Naturally, I wasn't gonna tell anybody as it would be quite expensive to replace the carpet and if I could just clean it up sufficiently that it would fly under the checkout person's radar, I would be home free!  

Fortunately the carpet was that industrial blue stuff that hides all sorts of dodgy stains.

Renting a wet vac was right out.  "What's that for?"  "Uh..."  Fortunately, after a couple of days of pouring water on the floor, stomping it with a towel or dark-colored cloth, rinsing it out,  partially drying the towels, scraping the floor to see if there was any residual paint, blasting the fan and ironing the floor dry so it wouldn't start rotting (there was already a noticeable mildew smell),  I declared the carpet passable and let it be.

After it dried, there was a large faint crunchy stain in the middle of the carpet along with a faint mildewiness that lingered for a while.

I got my deposit back.  The new resident never made mention of it.  I vowed never to paint again anything that involved a deposit.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

23) I can't believe I didn't take a picture!

Bitches, I basically made the whole dinner.  Seriously, the only thing I *didn't* do was cut up the animals.  Oh, and I didn't actually make the pies from scratch.  And the ham was pre-cooked  Plus I did most of the cleanup.

Oh, and we had a fourth person attend our dinner.  I expected this person to show up.

Devilled eggs:  Nothing special, tasty but nothing to write home about.  So far I'm the only one who's eaten them because I stuffed them in the fridge so nobody would get food poisoning and everyone else forgot about them.  Aiya.

Ro-Tel dip:  Come, now.  A pound of Velveeta to a can of Ro-Tel? You don't even have to cut it up beforehand.  I mean, if you screw this up, you shouldn't be allowed to make anything more complicated than a bowl of cereal.  It was good but also nothing special.

Vegetable tray:  It was a veggie tray.  Naturally, as the healthiest thing on the menu, it was virtually untouched.  I, however, quite enjoyed broccoli dipped in Ro-Tel.

Cranberry sauce: Oh shit, I left it in the cupboard.

Ham:  Purchased at the eleventh hour at Daddy's insistence.  A little on the dry side.  Probably got overcooked as it was hard to cut with a fork.  One of the dangers of buying something that just has to be heated up, I guess.

Turkey:  Ah, the piece de resistance.  The most important part of the meal.  Fuck this up, and you'll never be allowed to bring anything more involved than a store-bought pie to any family gathering for the next five years.  Now, this was my first time to be in charge of the turkey.  After I got the fucker thaaaaawed, I brined it for about 18 hours before cooking it.  Oh my god, brining is some kind of miracle technique.  I thought people were exaggerating about how the turkey would turn out, but it was tender, moist, perfectly seasoned, pretty.I riffed on Alton Brown's brine recipe.  Now, the Food Network website has a picture of the finished product and naturally, it's picture perfect.  I inherited the ugly food gene from my mom.  It's where you make delicious but weird-looking food.  Her turkey is the prime example of this.  It comes out of the oven as meat piled around a bird skeleton but since all of the meat has been sitting in the juices, you don't need a gallon of gravy to swallow it without choking.  In fact, you can skip the gravy.  Naturally, my turkey didn't look anything like Alton's turkey, right?  WRONG!  I'm serious, that turkey was fucking gorgeous.  I've never made food that pretty.  And by the time I thought to take a picture, Dad was already ripping up the turkey. "Oh, I thought you already took a picture of your turkey."

I'm seriously upset that I didn't take a picture of the turkey.  I'm going to have to find a way to manipulate it so I make the Christmas turkey because I need proof that I can make pretty food.

Giblet gravy:  Good stuff.

Stuffing:  Bland.  Dry.  Our family has always used bagged or boxed stuffing and as such, I've never been thrilled enough with stuffing to go off and find a decent recipe.

Sweet potato casserole:  This was supposedly based off of the Boston Market recipe.  Alright but too sweet for my taste.  Everyone else loved it.  Weirdos.

Biscuits:  A little drier than they normally are.  I have got to get my hands on some proper biscuit dough.  Still much tastier than the rolls we would have had instead.  Plus, this means biscuits and gravy for breakfast.

Pumpkin pie:  Didn't eat it.  Hard to go wrong with a frozen pie, though.

Cherry pie:  Well, I don't think it would make a grown man cry, but it still tasted pretty damn good.  Especially for something that basically just had to be heated up.

Overall, a success.  Much less stressful than when there's fifty thousand relatives who you never talk to outside of family gatherings and you're dodging knives and hot casserole dishes.

Now, just to plow through a month's worth of leftovers...

22) Boom-dee-ah-da, boom-dee-ah-da, boom-dee-ah-da, boom-dee-ah-da.

Tomorrow I'm going to review the meal so tonight I will be sharing what I'm thankful for.


It's funny when you think about it, it's really difficult for someone like me to be thankful for food, clothes, shelter, relative safety, all the things that a person needs to thrive because I've never been deprived of those sorts of things. It's like being thankful for air. I know that there's people who have asphyxiated, who have drowned or nearly drowned, who have diseases where they can't get enough oxygen. But it's sort of distant, unrelated to me. So when a person such as a news anchor says they're thankful for all these things, it sort of rings hollow.


So, it goes without saying that I'm thankful for all of the things that I need in life and all of the things I was born into. But there are some things that fairly often I stop and think, “Damn. I'm lucky to have this.”


I'm thankful that I have two jobs and that they're both pretty stable.

I'm thankful that I have health insurance.

I'm thankful that I am allowed to be an atheist, even if my family doesn't know about it.

I'm thankful for my college degree.

I'm thankful for the internet and the wealth of knowledge it affords me.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

21) Stoopid work

The one annoying thing about a publically-viewable blog is that you can't write about work frustrations if there's even a tiny bit of a risk of current or future employers stumbling across it.  That was the one good thing about LJ, I could write individual private entries.
You at least have to be very careful when posting about work.  I think I'm safe saying that my supervisor isn't giving me enough stuff to do which is ridiculous because I was hired for her to be able to push stuff off on to me.  I'm very paranoid about not being busy which for me is the same as not looking busy because my poker face is non-existent.  It's partly because my last job was in retail and in retail you don't get to stand around doing jack shit for more than two minutes without getting nommed on.  Obviously, it's also partly because of the economy.

You know that feeling when you're in a relationship and your partner starts being aloof and snippy?  You want to pretend that they're just in a funk and they don't want to talk about whatever it is.  But you know it's only a matter of time.  That's kinda how I feel right now.  Then again, I had the same feeling at my old job for a while.  Little did I know that I was pretty much guaranteed to not lose that job because I'm sooo funny n' weird.  Incidentally, I went to pick up my last check and one of the managers said she missed my quirkyness.  Please.  I'm so painfully normal it's not even funny.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

20) Making the food for the day of the thanksgiving

Okay, tomorrow I need to start doin' shit for Tee Day.

We've got a huge guest list this year- three people.

I know.  I don't know how we're gonna fit everyone.

I know my dad and stepmom are thinking, "God.  Amber's here for Thanksgiving.  She probably wants to go to the farm and kill and pluck the bird herself."  That's silly, everyone knows that wild is the way to go.

Unfortunately, I've let my gun registration lapse* so we bought a frozen turkey yesterday.  I've already convinced the folks to let me brine it.  It's the first time I've brined anything so it should be interesting.  At least I'll have the kinks worked out for next year when god willing I'll be somewhere with lots o' people.  Though I doubt in that situation the turkey will be in my jurisdiction.

The menu so far:
Turkey
Stuffing
Giblet Gravy
Green Bean Casserole
Pumpkin Pie
Cherry Pie
Whey Biscuits
Vegetable Tray

Dad has lobbied for chess pie.  Since Tom Thumb didn't have one, I'll definitely think about making one.
I'm going to lobby for something with squash in it that doesn't have the word casserole.
I might also lobby for Ro-Tel cheese dip.
Nicole mentioned a ham.  We shall see if there actually is one.
We're gonna have a fuck of a lot of leftovers.  Oh well, guess I won't be cooking for a while.

Tuesday:
8:00
Check turkey for defrostedness, do cold water defrost if necessary.  Make stock with giblets.
9:00
Steam green beans
9:30
Mix dry ingredients for brine together plus 1/8 of water needed

Wednesday:
4:00
Put turkey in brine
6:00
Make gravy
8:00
Chop up veggies for veggie tray
9:00
Mix together all ingredients for green bean casserole except for beans and fried onions
9:30
Measure whey, mix together dry ingredients for biscuits
10:00
Clean up kitchen
11:00
Bedtime, full stop.

Thursday:
9:00
Clean up kitchen
10:00
Prep turkey for cooking, put in oven at 300 degrees
11:00
Make cheese dip, if applicable
11:30
Set out veggie tray
Fill sink with hot soapy water
12:00
Prepare stuffing, stuff turkey, increase oven temp to 350
12:30
Cleanup tiiiiime!
2:00
Put ham in oven
2:30
Heat up gravy
Cook green bean casserole
3:00
Make biscuits, bottom rack 425 degree oven
Put pies in oven, top rack
3:30
Move pies to bottom rack, reduce heat to 350 if making chess pie
4:00
Make chess pie if applicable, top rack


*Yes, I know that Texas doesn't require you to register to own a rifle.  Or any gun for that matter.

Monday, November 24, 2008

19) Originally posted as a reply on Facebook

Go ahead, call it a cop-out.  But I wrote this really long reply to someone's note about how the 2005 movie Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was better than the 1971 version.  I begged to differ.

I read the book once, saw the 1971 version several times, saw the 2005 version once.

I think both movies have their merits, but ultimately I liked the 1971 version better.  I saw the 2005 version not long after it came out.  My stepmom asked me if I liked it because she wanted to take the grandkids. "Well, it's definitely a Tim Burton film," I said.  And that's not a bad thing in and of itself.  Nobody's gonna argue that Tim hasn't made some damn fine movies.  But I felt that Tim was trying to be really, really faithful to the book and ended up just copy-pasting dialogue, songs, and whole scenes into his movie and then just went ahead and made a Tim Burton film anyway.  Plus, I preferred Wilder's malicious negligence to Depp's cloud cuckoolander negligence.

The 2005 movie was faithful in lots of places where it shouldn't have been and threw in a load of back story where none was needed, and it really bogged down the movie.  Prince Pondicherry's chocolate palace- unnecessary and just mildly racist enough to be squirmy.  Jungle scene- too long, probably also unnecessary and please, you expect me to believe that Jacko actually did the dirty work of hacking through the jungle?  I mean, if they at least lampshaded it, I could have accepted it.  Telling Charlie he has to abandon his family for the factory- felt like a plot contrivance to add some conflict for Charlie and Wonka.  Father backstory- good for showing where Wonka gets his fanaticism from and for explaining why he wants Charlie to abandon his family and for, well, Christopher Lee, bad for making Wonka less of a mysterious character and for also feeling like a plot contrivance to add conflict for Wonka.

I would hardly call the 1971 version a feel-good movie.  Just re-watch the boat scene.  Contrast it with the 2005 boat scene which if I had not seen the previous movie or read the book would have assumed was an ad for a theme park ride, although it does involve a bit of bovine S&M which is always awesome.

Yes, the 1971 version is flawed.  The whole fizzy lifting drinks bit did destroy the point of Wonka looking for a child that wouldn't disobey, and did make Charlie and Grandpa Joe look like morons for not remembering the grisly fate of the last two children.  The story probably wouldn't have worked in film without Wonka at first telling Charlie that he didn't win the factory after all and Charlie giving up his Gobstopper but neither the fizzy lifting drinks nor the family abandonment routes were the way to go.  Maybe if Charlie and Grandpa had honestly gotten lost?  But there was a good reason for substituting the geese for the squirrels.  Imagine trying to accomplish the squirrel scene pre-CGI.  At best it would be reminiscent of a bunch of Muppets dragging Verruca off, at worst it would be reminiscent of the BBC Zaphod.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zaphod_Beeblebrox

Does the 1971 movie do the book justice?  Probably not, but I don't think that was the point of the filmmakers.  But the 2005 movie doesn't do it justice either.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

18) Don't go gently

I've seen this quote in a couple of different forms:

"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather one should aim to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, glass of Scotch in the other, your body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming 'Man, what a ride!'"

The other common reading replaces scotch with red wine.

It's bothered me ever since the first time I read it. I mean, I enjoy dark chocolate and red wine (red wine drunk: ain't no better drunk) but what kind of person's life is all about booze and candy? And if your body is used up and worn out, you're not going to be sliding in sideways, you're going to be wheeled in by a nurse's aide who does not get paid enough.

If you're screaming "Man, what a ride!" doesn't that mean you're still excited about life? Such a feeling about life would be more consistent with two burly male nurses hoisting you up by the forearms, your dangling legs wildly kicking ineffectually, your glass of 19 year old single malt spilling all over one nurse's white starched uniform. Right?

It seems that the author of the quote equates taken care of with well-preserved and well-preserved with kept safe and boring. As if getting your teeth cleaned once in a while means you have no sense of adventure. As if lifting weights means you have no joie de vivre.

When I die, I don't want to be wrung out. I don't want my mind eaten away. I don't want to be almost immobile. I want to be vital. I want to have friends. I want to have family. In short, I want to have unfinished business. Not things I will have regretted never getting around to, but a quilt I was working on, a trip I was saving up for, a vegetable garden to harvest. But, I want to be ready. When I die, I want my last thought to be, "But I was in the middle of- oh well, it's been a good ride and I have few regrets."

Saturday, November 22, 2008

17) More Google Flu Trends-service

Yeah, just think of the implications of that title. Actually don't.

You really expected me to finish the story today? Ha!

Went to the doctor today. I haven't been to any medical practitioner aside from the eye doctor in three years. Yes, even *rubs teeth*. I blame the whole orthodontic thing for making me say "fuck it!"

Anyway, I do have swollen tonsils and lymph nodes in my neck. No fever, everything else is normal. I definitely do not have strep throat but a really wussy version of the flu has not been ruled out. In the same sense that mono and I dunno, pneumonia haven't been ruled out. "But for the past few weeks I have been feeling short of breath when I do small amounts of phsyical exertion. Like getting out of bed in the morning." "Have you been having heavier than normal periods?" "Not that I'm aware of..." "Yeah... we're doing a blood test. Second door on your left." Damn. Wait about ten minutes, nurse takes blood sample, tells me they'll have an answer in two to three days.

So, the thing about me is that I can donate blood and immediately stand up and walk out without feeling more than that dull ache in the donor arm. I mean, I don't because, free cookies and soda. Ohhh, but not today. I'm pretty sure they drew about... 1/4 cup of blood? For those in the audience who suck at math, that's 1/8 of a standard blood donation. Yeah, my body didn't agree. "Hey, let's pretend like we're thisclose to passing out for the next hour! And let's be all achy and shit! Right arm, that goes double for you!" Seriously, not cool, body.

But the power went out at work an hour and a half before I was supposed to get off and because of all this excitement, the CEO turned into a twitchy Ricky Ricardo for about ten minutes so the day wasn't a total loss.

Friday, November 21, 2008

16) Plain, part 1

The old woman set her handbasket on the checkout counter. Flour, a chicken breast, a jar of pickles. She never bought much in one trip since she came to the store almost daily. She counted out her payment in change. Not that it really seemed to bother the clerk, probably because the store had only opened an hour ago and there was nobody behind the woman in line. Besides, the woman wasn't spending that much money and was mostly paying with quarters. The groceries went into a canvas bag. She seemed to take pride in the fact that she has been using canvas bags before it was popular. She only found it strange that nobody in the store ever seemed to recognize her.

The old lady stepped out of the grocery store just in time to see the bus pull away. She now wished that she hadn't bought the chicken because now she would have to walk home. Sometimes she wished that she had not sold her car. She told the person who bought it that she couldn't afford to pay for the car anymore. She did not tell the buyer that she had paid off the car years ago.

She didn't have mirrors in her home. No point. She had not exactly been a looker even in her best years and age had not been kind to her features. She had never been one for dressing flashily and the only time she wore makeup was for her sister's wedding. She never herself married and had never been in a serious relationship.

I bet now you expect me to say something like, "But there was a man. Once. The woman didn't like to be reminded of it, of what might have been." But that would be a lie.

Continued tomorrow.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

15) Guess Google Flu Trends will love this one...

I'm sick. I think. I feel like shit. My throat alternates between having swollen tender spots and... not having them. I have a headache but for me that means... that I have a headache. I alternate between feeling feverish and not. I slept like half the day after getting off work. Of course, that's making it a bit difficult to sleep now. I won't even be able to see the doctor until Friday. This all probably has something to do with the shortness of breath I've been having for the past week. I hope so, nothing's more irritating than standing up and walking five feet and having to stand there for a few seconds because your body hasn't switched to "doing something besides laying there" mode.

Bleh. I don't know if I'll be staying home from work tomorrow. Guess I'll see how I feel in a couple of hours.

So anyway, my room is finally finished being painted. I've been working on it on and off for the past two months, stretching a two weekend project past all reasonable bounds. At least when I worked at Express I had the excuse of being fucking exhausted all the time. Now I'm just being lazy. But aside from maybe repainting part of the vanity and removing the painter's tape, I'm done. Well, I'm done. Someone else is doing the trim.

And now I get to plow in part of the backyard and install a drip irrigation system.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

14) Plugging in to the community

I've felt very disconnected lately. It probably doesn't help that I've done about zero socializing since I moved back to Dallas. The closest I've come is chatting with the people at work during my lunch break. Twelve people in that office. Seven of them never eat in the break room. Not a wide net of personal experience. And given that one of the people is my father, I've heard some of the stories and opinions a million times before. I got so used to the environment of a large co-op. Just wander downstairs at practically any hour of the day (especially as you get closer to finals) and there will be at least one person up and about, probably avoiding study and therefore much more given to chatting with anybody about anything at all. I have hobbies, I just need to find a group of like-minded individuals. Or maybe start a club. I like being experimental with my cooking, maybe there's a whole bunch of people who enjoy finding out what happens when you add some cumin. Or when you don't use salt. We could even hand the results out to needy people when we finished. I like gardening and I like the concept of a community garden (though who knows, I might be horrified and disgusted at the execution), maybe I can get involved with a project to give low-income apartment-dwelling families a chance to grow their own vegetables. Maybe then I'll come to love this city.

God, I sound like one of the characters in Waking Life- "He's all action and no theory, we're all theory and no action."

Monday, November 17, 2008

13) I swear I didn't plan to do something lucky.

So today I saved the business at least $150. Always kinda nice to know you single-handedly discovered something that really helps the business out. Unless you really hate or deeply don't care about the business and you're torn between sharing the info and being a hero or keeping the info and not having to do anything. Why you wouldn't want to be the hero, I don't understand. Anyway. For some reason I had to look up something about our products and right now, the fastest way for me to do that is to go to the website.

Type in web address into Google. Business's old web page with basically the same info pops up. Click. "This domain name unregistered." Huh, guess they finally decided to give that website up. Oh, well. I'll just go to the regular website.

Couple hours later: "So *old website* has a really high position in Google" "Yeah, but we're not using the old address, anymore and the new one isn't as high." "The hell are you talking about?"

Couple minutes later: "Those sneaky sons of bitches. And we haven't checked that website in months. And we wouldn't a' checked it for another couple. Guess I'll be making a phone call tomorrow. And if they don't refund our money?" "Yeah?" "It's clobberin' time."

I seem to have a knack for catching things riiiiight before they become a problem. This means that when you're about to dive headfirst into a pool of deceptively deep-looking water, I'm going to come wading by and ask you why the hell you're standing weird. But I'm also going to open the door right as the last strand of rope gives way and the chandelier comes crashing down. I swear, it wasn't my fault.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

12) Chomp

Oh, I am most definitely will have to have my wisdom teeth pulled. The top right one was the first to finally break through about a week ago and it doesn't have much room. As in, I hope the cusp that has broken through is the most frontal cusp because otherwise it's destroying my 2nd molar. And I'm the only one in my immediate family who hasn't had teeth get so FUBARed that they had to be pulled. I would like to keep it that way. Anyway, the one below it has gotten inflamed twice. The top left one has now also broken through, but it's growing in funny because one of the cusps is grating against my cheek. And that one's been managing to on and off scrape my cheek raw for the past couple of weeks- through the gum! Lord help me if that one stays. The bottom left one, I'm pretty sure is impacted because for the past several weeks I've been feeling small twinges of pain reminiscent of when I had braces. I've never had any kind of surgery before so I'm not looking forward to the prospect of lying on the couch with bags of frozen peas lying on my cheeks, spaced out on Vicodin. Hopefully I can put this off until the beginning of January. I do not want to be spending Christmas unable to eat much of anything and generally feeling like crap because I decided to stop procrastinating.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

11) Don't ask me to explain it.

Winter is almost here. We've already had it freeze once and it's going to get close again tonight. I've already pulled the mango plant (it's just not big enough to be a tree yet) inside and I'm going to take a chance that the basil and pepper plants can take the cold. If they can't, it's been a good fight. At least for the jalapeno. Damn nearly killed the thing this summer when I thought leaving its pot in a deep bowl of water and covering the soil with plastic so as not to dry it out would be a good idea. Didn't know a plant could shed 3/4 of its leaves and not die. That fucker could survive a nuclear holocaust. Though when the roaches find it, it might not survive much longer. Although with all the radiation, chopping up the plant might just make it stronger. Each bit of plant will grow in the stomachs of all the roaches, eventually ripping their exoskeletons in half. The bits that find some soil to grow in will grow larger and larger. Some will achieve sentience. When they grow so large that they bump into each other, they will fight to the death or fuse, becoming one. Many years will pass, the plant only growing bigger, stronger, smarter. It will one day take over the globe, draining the oceans and covering the lands. It will then remember its childhood in the terra cotta pot and in a fit of nostalgia, grow flowers. The winds will carry its pollen far and wide and the great plant will remember its ability to self-pollinate. It will begin preparing for the time when its fruits are ready to fall. But they won't fall, oh, no. The plant knows it will only smother them. No, the plant will jettison the fruits out into space where they can colonize new worlds. Perhaps some of them will find worlds where everything hasn't been destroyed. Perhaps some of them can make a friend.

Friday, November 14, 2008

10) The first of many song reviews?

(The top part of this review disappeared somewhere. Grr.)

I'm certified on the internet read about it" and "Put it in your search engine" the artist remains ambiguous as to whether the protagonist actually is aware of the fact that she is only famous in the context of the Internet.

In the pseudo-call-and-response lyrics of the hook "(You ain't nobody) Google me baby!/You better ask somebody" and the repetition tinged with desperation of the words "Google me baby", the artist demonstrates that the protagonist has created a bubble where she is a sought-after individual and will seek to perpetuate that bubble as long as she can, promoting herself at every opportunity, seeking to make it reality or at least driving away all those who would demonstrate otherwise. The lyrics "You ain't even gotta ask nobody bout me." seem to also suggest that the protagonist fears that if she were to honestly seek the opinions of others, they will force her to face the fact that her fame is fleeting and small. The previously alluded-to pseudo-call-and-response in the hook is of considerable interest because the protagonist seems to pursue her ersatz fame with an almost religious fervor. Also, one notices that the artist has a male telling the protagonist she is a nobody and saying nothing else. This may seem to be simply a case of the artist following the form of the genre but in fact the use of a male to symbolize the collective opinion of everyone outside of her bubble is a brilliant use of the framework of the pop song since in the context of such a song, one does not have much time to establish a dichotomy between the singer and the rest fo the world.

The true bit of genius in this song comes during the bridge. Ordinarily in songs where peppy lyrics belie the reality of the situation, the artist will plainly state that everything sung before was false the song "Coin Operated Boy" by the Dresden Dolls to use an example. The author here is much subtler. She plays up the minor key, mournfully singing about being in magazines and limousines. We are meant to infer that these things are not actually happening but she strongly wants to believe that they are. She even says "So you can go 'head & give me my shine," implying that she is waiting for someone to take notice of her. She finishes by saying "You ain't gotta believe me/ Google me baby," and again repeatedly tells people to Google her, because she is beginning to not believe herself and she needs to have reassurance that her fame has not ended yet.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

9) Or I could just keep bees...

A good cup of. Hot, strong, rich, complex. Expensive or made at home cheap. With milk and sweetener unless it really is the good stuff and then just milk. A rare treat when I find a good coffeehouse and yet an everyday necessity. Don't smoke, rarely drink, but a headachey, deranged mess without caffeine (although some tell me I'm a little off even with it). Sure, soda or an energy drink would do it but it's not the same somehow. Plus, because the caffeine concentration is higher, I can feel myself vibrating when I drink an energy drink too fast. Maybe it's all because there are additional compounds similar to caffeine in the coffee that aren't in the other drinks. It would explain why I react to tea differently to coffee. It's probably tearing up my stomach and turning my teeth brown but it tastes so damn good. You only live once, right?

My hometown needs a good coffeeshop. We had one. I know, I used to make drinks there. Damn good drinks, too. Best cappuccinos in the metroplex. That's another thing to add to the list of things that Austin has that Dallas doesn't: A good coffeehouse within walking distance. Hell, even the 7-11 has good coffee. The kicker is I finally tried a really good place less than a week before I moved back here. Oh, well. Makes me appreciate good coffee all the more. And probably saves me a shitload of money.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

8) Atheist prayer

In Richard Feynman's book "What Do You Care What Other People Think?" he mentions that an artist friend of his once asserted that Feynman couldn't possibly fully appreciate the beauty of a flower on the level that he does because Feynman, being a scientist, would allow the flower's beauty to be obscured by cold scientific facts about the flower while the artist has cultivated a nuanced appreciation of form. Feynman then tells us that he believes that in fact the opposite is true because knowing about all of those chemical reactions and biological processes all going on inside the tiny petals and leaves instill a sense of wonder about the flower. That so much goes on in so many things automatically and it results in things of such beauty.

A religious person asks how an atheist can find the universe to be so full of wonder if our existence is just some random insignificant blip in the universe, if we don't matter on a cosmic scale. The atheist says, it's the most liberating and terrifying thing in the world! Or maybe the atheist says "meh". We're all different, donchaknow. But it means there is no all-powerful being with the answers, that we can go on learning forever. Every thing has a why and nothing has a because. What could be more maddening? What could be more exciting? It means there's nobody watching out for us. We have to make our own way, we have to take care of ourselves and watch out for each other because we're all we have.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

7) Yeah, I watched the Keith Olberman video.

I'm starting to remember why I don't write much. Because largely what I write about is negative.

The text of Prop 8 is as follows:
PROPOSITION 8
This initiative measure is submitted to the people in accordance with the provisions of Article II, Section 8, of the California Constitution.
This initiative measure expressly amends the California Constitution by adding a section thereto; therefore, new provisions proposed to be added are printed in italic type to indicate that they are new.
SECTION 1. Title
This measure shall be known and may be cited as the “California Marriage Protection Act.”
SECTION 2. Section 7.5 is added to Article I of the California Constitution, to read:
SEC. 7.5. Only marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California
It's on page 128 (or 49 of 62) of this PDF.

It's weird to think that only five or six years ago, I probably would have been all for Prop 8 and yet today, I can't quite wrap my head around the idea that so many people would be so petty as to amend their constituion to make gay marriage illegal. That so many people would have been so spiteful as to sign their name on a petition for it. That someone would have been so vindictive as to go through the steps to create said petition and travel around getting the necessary signatures to put it on the ballot. After all, they weren't preventing anybody from going through a religious ceremony. They weren't outlawing gays from putting on their tuxes and civilly uniting. As far as I understand the proposition, they weren't even preventing gays from having something that had all the same legal rights as marriage but with a different name. That's why it's petty.

It's just a word. A word that in varying societies is between one man and potentially several women, one man and one woman who've never met before and didn't agree to the terms, one man and one woman who can stop being an and through a long and expensive legal process, between one geriatric millionaire and one nubile young stripper, or between one princess of a weak country and one prince who will be gaining some new land on his wedding day.

Our country managed to get along for many years just fine without people dictating what gender combination had to be in place for two people to marry. Sometimes it's better to leave things as they are.

6) I caused the credit crunch.

Okay, I'm tired of this culture of victimization. Nothing's my fault, everything is because of the media or my parents or the corporations or society. All I've been hearing on the news for months is how the banks screwed us over and _______ are a bunch of crooks for fucking up the market.

We all have ourselves to blame.

When you bought that shirt that you really couldn't afford but you "deserved" it and you put it on your credit card?

When you couldn't to pay off the credit card this month but you could afford to eat out twice a week?

When you decided you wanted a house and you went with the bank's advice to lie about how much you made?

When that investor bought a bunch of securities without reading the fine print.

When I convinced you to open up a credit card account with my store even though you already had four maxed out? And I knew about it? And told you about how you could get another shirt for only $20 more?

When I said it was disgusting that that company had huge layoffs and gave the CEO a raise and then I turned around and bought something from them that afternoon?

Yes, executive boards fire half the company due to their own incompetence then give them raises. Yes, banks told customers to lie about how much they made and then sold off the loans to people who basically immediately jacked up the interest rates. Yes, companies shove credit cards down our throats. Yes, they bombard us with marketing.

But you know what, at every chance we had a fucking choice.

Look, society's only going to improve when we accept responsibility for our actions. And by accept responsibility, I don't mean demand retribution or curse ourselves and our bad luck. No, own it. And work to fix it. Pay off that credit card (but don't close it- just every once in a while put what you were going to put on the debit card anyway on the CC and set it up to pay the whole thing off at the end of the month automatically), eat in more (you'll lose weight and feel better), start a garden (seeds are cheap), cruise the thrift stores (they have cooler clothes, anyway), but don't sit on your ass feeling sorry for yourself and waiting for the gubmint to send you a stimulus check.

Monday, November 10, 2008

5) I really need an alarm to remind me to do this.

So tomorrow I'm starting my new part-time job at my stepmom's adhesive fulfilling business. I will be doing various campaigns for them such as trying to acquire government contracts, getting our product into stores, and getting into women-owned business organizations. I've worked for this company before as sort of an office and shop manager and I wasn't too thrilled with what I was doing (calling customers, filling orders), but now I am. I guess it's because I feel that now I actually have an opportunity to expand the business. I feel that I'll be making a difference. Sure, it's glue but I'll have something real and tangible that I can point to and say, "I did that." Also, the last time I was working for this company, it was before my job folding shirts and selling clothes to overpriveleged Dallasites and, gotta tell ya, selling glue to craft stores will be a lot more rewarding. Sure, when I was selling clothes I was occasionally selling suits to people going on their first job interview or selling an outfit to an out-of-towner who lost their luggage, but I was usually selling shit they didn't need, that was only going to make them feel guilty when they got their credit card statements. Now I will be selling products that allow people to engage in hobbies and to do nifty DIY stuff. And who would object to giving people a tiny boost in their sense of empowerment?

Saturday, November 8, 2008

4) 4′33″

The whine of the fan, rocking. Now softer now louder. I hope it doesn't crash in my sleep.
The pull-chain clinking against the light fixture. The longer one is the perfect length to achieve harmonic resonance so it swings wildly.
The groan of bedsprings.
Feet slap against cold faux wood flooring.
The floor creaks where the carpeting was laid down improperly.
Earrings tap together as I run around looking for a pair of sunglasses.
I turn the door handle. Small metal bits slide against one another. The door was cut a little too long, it drags against the carpet with a ffffff. A thud and a click and the door is shut.
A slight wind makes the trees go shhhh.
Scrapes and crackles as I walk down the driveway littered with pecan shells.
I rummage in my purse. Bits of plastic clack together. A bottle of ibuprofen rattles around. My keys jingle as I pull them out.
I press a button, four simultaneous clicks as the locks disengage.
My key grates against the pins in the lock. The car dings. I haven't put my seatbelt on. I turn the key, the car chugchugchugchugchugchugaWHOOMs into life.
The car gripes as I shift into drive. The air swishes around the car, twigs crunch under the tires.
A light eeee as I apply the breaks. I rummage in my purse again, pull out the face plate to my stereo, click it into place, and turn on some music.

3) Only my third day and I'm already slipping.

And my sister told me an hour ago that there was rioting in Waco when Obama won. Obama posters were burned and groups of white kids tried to start fights with groups of black kids.

Okay, seriously, what the hell is wrong with us? What is wrong with this part of the country? What is wrong with this state? We became a state because we wanted to own slaves, and mean ol' Mexico didn't want any of it. Some pussy-ass human rights shit. Sure, we were a country for a few years but we joined the US the first chance we got. Texas. Exists. Because. People. Wanted. To. Own. Slaves. We got off to a bad start. We've had two female governors but one was only elected because her husband wasn't allowed to be in office anymore and the other one was a tobacco lobbyist!

I didn't realize how much I missed Austin and the culture and liberalness of Austin until I went there for Halloween and voting. I think I'm either going to have to move back there or somewhere up north so I don't lose it. Is there a place such that they are reasonably accepting of atheists? Where you can have an intelligent discussion about science or a book or hell, even an actual intelligent discussion of a movie? I sort of had that in Austin, but I lived in a co-op. The nonreligious seem to be attracted to such things. I want to live somewhere where I can have a tiny house with a good-sized yard and a huge vegetable garden. I want to be within biking distance of a grocery store and a decent restaurant or two. I want to not need a car except for lugging heavy stuff. I want to be able to occasionally say off-the-wall things without people thinking I'm completely insane. I don't have this in Dallas. I miss it. Bad.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

2) It's gonna be Obama-related posts for a while. So... just deal, zero people who are reading out there.

So, for the past two weeks I've been afraid that he's going to die in office. Obama has already had how many death threats and how many assasaination attempts? It seems that eventually someone's gonna get through. I tell myself, Nelson Mandela survived his presidency and he doubtlessly didn't have the technology and personnel that Obama will have access to and in fact has access to now. I tell myself, except for LBJ, every president from Kennedy on has had someone try to assasinate him. Only two were able to cause harm and only one was successful and because of that one, the Secret Service is what it is today.

I fear for him because Obama doesn't just have political opponents after him, he has people that think he is an abomination, residue of miscegenation. People see him and come to the conclusion that hey, maybe this whole racial mixing thing isn't so bad (because apparently everyone is stuck in 1957 and nobody has heard of CLINAL VARIATION) and there goes the pure white race.

I fear that some crazy stupid redneck fuck who would rather blame his inadequacies on them blacks gettin' uppity is going to through sheer lunacy come up with an assasination plot that nobody has though of yet. I only hope that the ones intelligent enough to not get caught beforehand are also intelligent enough to know that the backlash (and there's a lot of us who feel enfranchised for the first time in our lives and really, really like it) wouldn't be worth it.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

1) One post every day for 365 days.

I've been wanting to do this for a long time. I was going to wait for the beginning of the year, but I decided that the day after Obama's election would be a nice time to start, symbolically. I might decide later on down the road that this was a stupid reason to start this exercise, but I think the important thing is that I'm doing it.

I will post something on this blog every single day from now until November 4, 2009. It could be musings, poetry (ha!), jokes, stream-of-consciousness writings, whatever. Why am I doing this? I was inspired by a guy I heard of (really wish I knew who it was) who drew something every day for a year, and by the end of the year his drawing skills went from total crap to quite impressive, not trying to study drawing or anything. I want to improve my writing skills and while I'm definitely in the top half, why not improve on what skills I have? Also, I think it will be good for me just to have something that I'm plugging away at every single day.

My rules:
At least 12 hours between posts that count for the day. I don't want to get into the habit of posting something at, say, 11:56 pm and then posting something at 12:05 am and being done for the next day. That's a good way to forget if I've posted or not.
At most 24 hours between posts, barring a situation where I don't have internet access. In that case, I will write something and post it a soon as possible.
No starting the day's post before 12:00 am.
Each post that counts for the day must be at least 200 words long. This ensures a good faith effort to write a real blog post and not just something that's meant to count for the day.
This isn't birth control, it's a diet. If I fuck up and miss a day or two, I won't throw the blog out and start a new one on Sunday. I will post as soon as possible and add more days on the end until I've reached my goal.

I may have to add more rules as I see fit, but I think this creates a good place to start. If anybody reads this, this is important to me so if you notice I've been slacking, remind me of my commitment to myself.