This is what passes for baptismal whites here in NoCal.
Mimi trying to read the creation story from Genesis to Q, while he eats a toy shark.
Godmothers! Gather 'round!
Sunday, May 13, 2007
I Forgot
I meant to post some pix in that prior post, but even I got tired of reading it. So here are some pictures. They were taken a few weeks ago when we hedged our bets. Oops, I mean, got the kids' baptized. Enjoy.
This is what passes for baptismal whites here in NoCal.
Mimi trying to read the creation story from Genesis to Q, while he eats a toy shark.
This is what passes for baptismal whites here in NoCal. Mimi trying to read the creation story from Genesis to Q, while he eats a toy shark.
A Really Verbose Entry - Worse Than the Prior Post
Wow. It was quite a weekend. Lots to blog about. Actually, don’t get your hopes up. The stuff that happened is exciting at the level of, well, blogging about, but it will not leave a lasting impression, or have a kicker of a punchline or anything. But I’ll give it my best shot.
Yesterday I took the kiddos to the zoo, which would not be notable in itself, but there was a guy being led around the children’s area on a leash by a much older, slovenly and obnoxious woman. He was in his thirties, black jeans, black T-shirt, leather collar, black leash. She was in her sixties, very heavy, wearing maybe cullottes, white hair, fanny pack. They were with another couple, both heavy and in their sixties. He was wearing a leather vest, leather cap and had a very dark thick van dyke beard and a shaved head. His lovely mistress was wearing shorts, a big red T-shirt, and had two braids, like she was Heidi. I tried to ignore them – and hope Li didn’t ask – but dog mistress kept yelling out loud comments to The Bear dude. “I feel like Peabody and Sherman!” God, poor Peabody and Sherman.
This little show irritated me at the time, but I got progressively more annoyed by it as the day wore on. For a variety of reasons (none of them my own sexual predilection), I have had cause to think about the leather subculture, and as a general matter, I just find it annoying and slightly pathetic. Why do people need to go through all the rigamorale to get off? That's sort of a bummer for you, if you need costumes and equipment to get into it.
Anyway, for this pair, it's clearly part of the thrill to go out in public and be seen behaving this way. But the part that makes it awful is that the intended audience for this little parade were zoo visitors (or -- horrors! -- the animals?), which at the Oakland Zoo at 10:30 on a Saturday morning, is people under the age of 5 and their parents. Making it a sort of reverse kiddie porn or something. I mentioned this to a friend last night and she thought maybe they were just in the kids' area because they'd seen the rest of the zoo, and also the Oakland Zoo is small, but it isn't like outside the kids' area, there were any more adults. I guess the thrill for this couple is to go to the place where they would be least expected, and to be seen there. And that's hot? I am just lost on this one. And grossed out.
And so then last night was Paladar Temescal, which seemed really fun at the time but today's wicked hangover sort of colors its memory.* We sat with a group of people who were pretty random, including a dead ringer for Teri Garr and who was so loud that I was dumbstruck and became a reserved consumer of her wit. Which was hit or miss, by the way. She laughed very loudly at her own jokes, and at one point made offensive remarks to another woman at our table which were so ballsy, I thought I would die. She said that she and her friends would invent fake stories for each of us, and then proceeded to say that the only Asian woman at the table was a mail order bride. By the end of the night, Teri had become . . . almost the father of the bride at the end of the reception, pouring more wine, laughing loudly but also possibly on the verge of tears, just saying shit that everyone later pretends wasn't said. She was awesome. One of her friends looked like Cheryl Crow. Cheryl, to her credit, was suitably mortified by Teri's awesomeness.
Today was a lackluster Mother's Day, but I am not blaming that on Mr. Scobs and the kids. They cleared out and the only thing I could think to do was drive to The Gap to see if I could find some new workout pants. So lame. It was the hangover. I probably had all of three glasses of wine, and I am such a wuss, I've been holding my head all day. Who cares, right? I only mention today to tell you that a very sad watershed event occurred at dinner tonight. Li, who is in the habit of asking, "When you were little, did you like ___?" all the time, asked, "When you were little, did you like the Yankees?" I said, no. He then asked, "Do you like the Yankees now?" which brought B back into the dining room to say, "We are Red Sox fans and we think the Yankees stink." To which, L said, "I like the Yankees."
You know that cartoon sound where the car skids off the road, and there's the squeal of breaks and the smash of chrome? That sound happened in our dining room tonight. It sent B around the bend. He's so mad. Li then asked me who someone in the sports section was (Derek Jeter) and he walked around asking about Derek Jeter all night. He's clearly figured out a way to piss off his dad without there being any repercussions. B has decided to ignore it in hopes that this will pass, but possibly his greatest fear, just short of our kids getting addicted to drugs, is that they will be Yankees' fans.
*The Paladar was actually fun, and delicious, but raving about it would bury the lead, which was Teri Garr.
Yesterday I took the kiddos to the zoo, which would not be notable in itself, but there was a guy being led around the children’s area on a leash by a much older, slovenly and obnoxious woman. He was in his thirties, black jeans, black T-shirt, leather collar, black leash. She was in her sixties, very heavy, wearing maybe cullottes, white hair, fanny pack. They were with another couple, both heavy and in their sixties. He was wearing a leather vest, leather cap and had a very dark thick van dyke beard and a shaved head. His lovely mistress was wearing shorts, a big red T-shirt, and had two braids, like she was Heidi. I tried to ignore them – and hope Li didn’t ask – but dog mistress kept yelling out loud comments to The Bear dude. “I feel like Peabody and Sherman!” God, poor Peabody and Sherman.
This little show irritated me at the time, but I got progressively more annoyed by it as the day wore on. For a variety of reasons (none of them my own sexual predilection), I have had cause to think about the leather subculture, and as a general matter, I just find it annoying and slightly pathetic. Why do people need to go through all the rigamorale to get off? That's sort of a bummer for you, if you need costumes and equipment to get into it.
Anyway, for this pair, it's clearly part of the thrill to go out in public and be seen behaving this way. But the part that makes it awful is that the intended audience for this little parade were zoo visitors (or -- horrors! -- the animals?), which at the Oakland Zoo at 10:30 on a Saturday morning, is people under the age of 5 and their parents. Making it a sort of reverse kiddie porn or something. I mentioned this to a friend last night and she thought maybe they were just in the kids' area because they'd seen the rest of the zoo, and also the Oakland Zoo is small, but it isn't like outside the kids' area, there were any more adults. I guess the thrill for this couple is to go to the place where they would be least expected, and to be seen there. And that's hot? I am just lost on this one. And grossed out.
And so then last night was Paladar Temescal, which seemed really fun at the time but today's wicked hangover sort of colors its memory.* We sat with a group of people who were pretty random, including a dead ringer for Teri Garr and who was so loud that I was dumbstruck and became a reserved consumer of her wit. Which was hit or miss, by the way. She laughed very loudly at her own jokes, and at one point made offensive remarks to another woman at our table which were so ballsy, I thought I would die. She said that she and her friends would invent fake stories for each of us, and then proceeded to say that the only Asian woman at the table was a mail order bride. By the end of the night, Teri had become . . . almost the father of the bride at the end of the reception, pouring more wine, laughing loudly but also possibly on the verge of tears, just saying shit that everyone later pretends wasn't said. She was awesome. One of her friends looked like Cheryl Crow. Cheryl, to her credit, was suitably mortified by Teri's awesomeness.
Today was a lackluster Mother's Day, but I am not blaming that on Mr. Scobs and the kids. They cleared out and the only thing I could think to do was drive to The Gap to see if I could find some new workout pants. So lame. It was the hangover. I probably had all of three glasses of wine, and I am such a wuss, I've been holding my head all day. Who cares, right? I only mention today to tell you that a very sad watershed event occurred at dinner tonight. Li, who is in the habit of asking, "When you were little, did you like ___?" all the time, asked, "When you were little, did you like the Yankees?" I said, no. He then asked, "Do you like the Yankees now?" which brought B back into the dining room to say, "We are Red Sox fans and we think the Yankees stink." To which, L said, "I like the Yankees."
You know that cartoon sound where the car skids off the road, and there's the squeal of breaks and the smash of chrome? That sound happened in our dining room tonight. It sent B around the bend. He's so mad. Li then asked me who someone in the sports section was (Derek Jeter) and he walked around asking about Derek Jeter all night. He's clearly figured out a way to piss off his dad without there being any repercussions. B has decided to ignore it in hopes that this will pass, but possibly his greatest fear, just short of our kids getting addicted to drugs, is that they will be Yankees' fans.
*The Paladar was actually fun, and delicious, but raving about it would bury the lead, which was Teri Garr.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Breaking Up Is Hard To Do
My husband warned me this would happen. He's been urging me to do it for months. And I reached the end of the road today. It's over between us. Me and Scott McKinzie, Dentist.
He's had it coming for about six months, but I'll start at the beginning. When I first moved to CA, I started seeing Paula Roemer, World's Greatest Dentist. Dr. Roemer's staff were kind and funny and not nosy, and they unfailingly put lip balm on your lips before they gently removed the tar and plaque from your teeth. Dr. Roemer is a Master Swimmer, mother to 4 boys, runs her own business. What's not to love? She's also got the curliest hair you've ever seen! Adorable!
Then she decided to have another child - a little girl - and a few years later she brought on two younger dentists to help out. Drs. Chen and Loew. Nice enough, quiet. Still gentle and lip balmy. Did not push X-rays while I was pregnant, no matter how safe they might have been. Later still, Dr. Roemer decided to sell part of her practice and practice solely out of her Martinez office. Fine for her, but I'm not going to Martinez any more often than the law requires (literally, I mean. I have some cases out there).
She sells the practice to Scott McKinzie. For a while, a lot of the staff stayed the same, and although the lip balm was struck from the budget, it was convenient, and there was parking.
But the Worm has turned. The grievances started to mount. Large (I mean 20x30) photos of The Dentist crossing various finish lines started appearing. Then Tina, a hygenist I particularly liked, left (after she told me that a disconcertingly large number of people fear dentists because they were sexually molested by dentists in their childhood, making me wonder if the American Dental Academy - or whoever certifies toothbrushes - will come in for a Vatican-style sex abuse conspiracy shakedown in the next few years).
I digress sharply. Anyway, the first real trouble was when I was told that I had to have all my fillings replaced. I was quoted a price (on paper) but delayed the procedure til after Q was born. During the changing of the fillings, I realized I didn't like this guy. It took four giant shots of novocaine to get one area in a pain tolerant (not pain free) zone and, the kicker was, he broke a sweat while he was working. I realized then that there is only one man whose face should be as close to mine as that, and I am married to him. Seeing other men's faces up close is completely disgusting. Sorry, male readers, it just is.
Alright, this story is taking way longer than necessary. Suffice to say,
1. the fillings are much more cold sensitive than the old ones;
2. I ended up getting charged way more than I had been quoted, basically at the whim of the dentist's wife;
3. I had a three-month argument with said wife about the bill via the office manager who kept apologizing and agreeing that it wasn't fair but then who didn't do anything. (I won, in the end).
Fast forward to today. Here are the intolerable conditions. You tell me whether I am wrong.
1. There are now no parking spots in the lot reserved for his patients. Cheap bastard! First the lip balm and now this!?
2. The hygenist asked me, for the third straight visit, how I had potty-trained my three-year-old. What's that about?? Talk to your 8 year old (or whatever) about it, lady, not me!
3. The Wife was there with a puppy. In a medical office. Is that legal? It sure is gross.
4. And here's the most annoying: The office walls are now decorated with American Idol quotes. And there's an American Idol board game featured on the counter - a prize to the winner of the American Idol word search and trivia games which were written by The Dentist and His Wife. Paradoxically, the waiting room magazines have gone boringly upscale. Newsweek and the New Yorker have replaced Us Weekly and People. That's not right. Why is the only source of American Idol information in the office posted next to the examination chair on a pastel sign?
So it's over. And I am not even going to postpone it because of William Hung's untimely death. Dr. McK will just have to muddle through this difficult time all by himself.
He's had it coming for about six months, but I'll start at the beginning. When I first moved to CA, I started seeing Paula Roemer, World's Greatest Dentist. Dr. Roemer's staff were kind and funny and not nosy, and they unfailingly put lip balm on your lips before they gently removed the tar and plaque from your teeth. Dr. Roemer is a Master Swimmer, mother to 4 boys, runs her own business. What's not to love? She's also got the curliest hair you've ever seen! Adorable!
Then she decided to have another child - a little girl - and a few years later she brought on two younger dentists to help out. Drs. Chen and Loew. Nice enough, quiet. Still gentle and lip balmy. Did not push X-rays while I was pregnant, no matter how safe they might have been. Later still, Dr. Roemer decided to sell part of her practice and practice solely out of her Martinez office. Fine for her, but I'm not going to Martinez any more often than the law requires (literally, I mean. I have some cases out there).
She sells the practice to Scott McKinzie. For a while, a lot of the staff stayed the same, and although the lip balm was struck from the budget, it was convenient, and there was parking.
But the Worm has turned. The grievances started to mount. Large (I mean 20x30) photos of The Dentist crossing various finish lines started appearing. Then Tina, a hygenist I particularly liked, left (after she told me that a disconcertingly large number of people fear dentists because they were sexually molested by dentists in their childhood, making me wonder if the American Dental Academy - or whoever certifies toothbrushes - will come in for a Vatican-style sex abuse conspiracy shakedown in the next few years).
I digress sharply. Anyway, the first real trouble was when I was told that I had to have all my fillings replaced. I was quoted a price (on paper) but delayed the procedure til after Q was born. During the changing of the fillings, I realized I didn't like this guy. It took four giant shots of novocaine to get one area in a pain tolerant (not pain free) zone and, the kicker was, he broke a sweat while he was working. I realized then that there is only one man whose face should be as close to mine as that, and I am married to him. Seeing other men's faces up close is completely disgusting. Sorry, male readers, it just is.
Alright, this story is taking way longer than necessary. Suffice to say,
1. the fillings are much more cold sensitive than the old ones;
2. I ended up getting charged way more than I had been quoted, basically at the whim of the dentist's wife;
3. I had a three-month argument with said wife about the bill via the office manager who kept apologizing and agreeing that it wasn't fair but then who didn't do anything. (I won, in the end).
Fast forward to today. Here are the intolerable conditions. You tell me whether I am wrong.
1. There are now no parking spots in the lot reserved for his patients. Cheap bastard! First the lip balm and now this!?
2. The hygenist asked me, for the third straight visit, how I had potty-trained my three-year-old. What's that about?? Talk to your 8 year old (or whatever) about it, lady, not me!
3. The Wife was there with a puppy. In a medical office. Is that legal? It sure is gross.
4. And here's the most annoying: The office walls are now decorated with American Idol quotes. And there's an American Idol board game featured on the counter - a prize to the winner of the American Idol word search and trivia games which were written by The Dentist and His Wife. Paradoxically, the waiting room magazines have gone boringly upscale. Newsweek and the New Yorker have replaced Us Weekly and People. That's not right. Why is the only source of American Idol information in the office posted next to the examination chair on a pastel sign?
So it's over. And I am not even going to postpone it because of William Hung's untimely death. Dr. McK will just have to muddle through this difficult time all by himself.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Jersey Pride - WTF Edition
A favorite blog of mine, Rangelife, recently featured a story about a house that collapsed in SF. Although an entry in Seamus' WTF regular column, the story was not in itself memorable until I got to the comments section, where "Rox" said:
Now anyone who knows me knows that I don't take Jersey throwdowns lightly. And in a real Jersey fashion, I am very critical of uses of New Jersey as a comparison tool even when Jersey comes out on top. Here's why. If you think Jersey can't produce a house sliding off a hill as well as SF can, YOU ARE WRAWNG. To wit:
Maybe I should remain on the East Coast. That sh#$ doesn't happen here in NJ.
Now anyone who knows me knows that I don't take Jersey throwdowns lightly. And in a real Jersey fashion, I am very critical of uses of New Jersey as a comparison tool even when Jersey comes out on top. Here's why. If you think Jersey can't produce a house sliding off a hill as well as SF can, YOU ARE WRAWNG. To wit:
Never doubt that New Jersey will have better collapsed houses than anywhere else outside of an underdeveloped nation in the path of an earthquake-induced tsunami-cane.
In an eerily similar vein, weatherologists reported that the first storm of the 2007 hurricane season was identified today and named Subtropical Storm Andrea. Although I am humbled by the reference, nothing short of a catastrophic event that takes Andrea off the List of Popular Baby Names will satisfy me. I hate the name Andrea.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
A Truth Universally Reviled
Excuse the formality of tonight's title. I finished reading Emma last night and the annoying circumlocutions of the 19th century are fixed in my brain until (insert your own corny Victorian weather reference here).
Here are the truths which I have previously reviled but am accepting, however tentatively, these days:
1. Once you have two babies, it does not matter how much weight you lose or how cute you once were, your body changes shape, occasionally in undesirable ways.
2. The only way to return a pregnancy-deformed body to a shadow of its prior cuteness is to exercise (NOTE: This is an as-yet untested maxim).
3. Exercise actually delivers on the other promises I have so ruefully ignored and rebuffed lo these 33 years.
So annoying. I joined the Y again though and went this morning. The Oakland Y is the world's greatest place to work out, because, in addition to the benefits of exercise that accrue from 25 minutes on an elliptical machine (if any; see 2 above), the other clientele cannot possibly make you feel bad. The blind, the halt and the lame. Is that the expression? As someone funnier than me once said, Everyone at the Oakland Y is there on doctor's orders. This has a twofold effect: (a) you look great and perfect by comparison and (b) you realize that if they can haul their medical scooters up the front steps, you can shut up and sweat.
Other truths, less universally reviled:
The White House is a warren of G-A-Y-ness. Yeah, you knew that. But if there's one thing to make it achingly clear, its a white tie dinner honoring the Queen. Have you seen the guest list? Both Josh Bolton and Stephen Hadley brought their moms, dude.
By the way, young Barbara Bush attended with Jay Blount. I don't know if she's seriously involved with this guy, but here he is rocking such a DeGrassi Jr. High look, it makes me think she brought him to honor the place in the British Commonwealth held by our neighbors to the North.*
Maybe the "gay" assessment of our national security advisor is a little half-cocked (har har). Maybe his wife is too down-to-earth for monarchy. If so, godspeed to her. Mrs. Hadley was all like, "take your mother, she'll love that crap."
*Here's how lame Canadians are: in voting on the Worst Canadian, the leading candidate may be a hockey team owner. Britain chose Jack the Ripper as the Worst Brit. Although maybe I shouldn't slag Canada for that. There are "certain quarters" where A-Rod would probably win Worst American.
Here are the truths which I have previously reviled but am accepting, however tentatively, these days:
1. Once you have two babies, it does not matter how much weight you lose or how cute you once were, your body changes shape, occasionally in undesirable ways.
2. The only way to return a pregnancy-deformed body to a shadow of its prior cuteness is to exercise (NOTE: This is an as-yet untested maxim).
3. Exercise actually delivers on the other promises I have so ruefully ignored and rebuffed lo these 33 years.
So annoying. I joined the Y again though and went this morning. The Oakland Y is the world's greatest place to work out, because, in addition to the benefits of exercise that accrue from 25 minutes on an elliptical machine (if any; see 2 above), the other clientele cannot possibly make you feel bad. The blind, the halt and the lame. Is that the expression? As someone funnier than me once said, Everyone at the Oakland Y is there on doctor's orders. This has a twofold effect: (a) you look great and perfect by comparison and (b) you realize that if they can haul their medical scooters up the front steps, you can shut up and sweat.
Other truths, less universally reviled:
The White House is a warren of G-A-Y-ness. Yeah, you knew that. But if there's one thing to make it achingly clear, its a white tie dinner honoring the Queen. Have you seen the guest list? Both Josh Bolton and Stephen Hadley brought their moms, dude.
By the way, young Barbara Bush attended with Jay Blount. I don't know if she's seriously involved with this guy, but here he is rocking such a DeGrassi Jr. High look, it makes me think she brought him to honor the place in the British Commonwealth held by our neighbors to the North.*
Maybe the "gay" assessment of our national security advisor is a little half-cocked (har har). Maybe his wife is too down-to-earth for monarchy. If so, godspeed to her. Mrs. Hadley was all like, "take your mother, she'll love that crap."
*Here's how lame Canadians are: in voting on the Worst Canadian, the leading candidate may be a hockey team owner. Britain chose Jack the Ripper as the Worst Brit. Although maybe I shouldn't slag Canada for that. There are "certain quarters" where A-Rod would probably win Worst American.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
What's Up With Us?
This is what's up with us. We've decided to rescue our backyard from concrete tree stumps that litter it. I like to imagine that the prior owner had a problem controlling all the concrete trees in the back yard, and cut them down, leaving the ugly stumps for us to toss out.
The bigger quandary for us is how to honor the duck that once lived at our house without actually keeping his fake pond and "house". I'm not kidding with this one. A prior owner kept a duck in the yard to control the snails. A pest control method I can almost get behind, if I could find a compliant duck that wouldn't fear the kids or vice versa. We have a big black plastic tub that was probably a pool for the duck, as well as a wierd hutch that it lived in at times.
Once the backyard is finished, we will have y'all over to roll around in the hardy grass/white clover, dig your toes into the "sand pond" and sit on the man patio that will be built outside the workhouse (aka the man hut, aka the MAN-struation hut).
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Overheard
"The ciabatta's cool though." One male teen to another, entering Albertsons.
This statement is only true if it refers to the temperature of recently baked bread.
But how down on your conversational luck would you have to be to say it for any other reason?
Stop Stopping the War in Iraq!
It probably isn't the most impotent protest being held tomorrow, but I think the "Emergency Rally to end the war tomorrow in Oakland" ranks right up there.
I could pretend that this was a rally to stop some war in Oakland, but that would be more credible and effective than what it is. Some civic rallying against the high murder rate, or the shitty schools, or the As moving to Fremont - all of those I can see "sending a message" to someone. But I know this rally is against the war in Iraq, so why should I bother showing up?
First off, its being held in Oakland, where there is probably 100% agreement that this is a dumb war, and it is 100% certain that Bush could give a shit what we think. Second, it's in front of the Grand Lake Theater (famous for its owner's political commentary on the marquee), which means they anticipate only about same number of people who showed up for the premiere of Planet of the Apes to be at this rally.
Which will be demoralizing, right? I mean, with 100% unanimity on this point (at least presumed by the Bush administration), shouldn't Oaklanders turn their attentions elsewhere? Like, to seeing if Hot Fuzz is any good?
I could pretend that this was a rally to stop some war in Oakland, but that would be more credible and effective than what it is. Some civic rallying against the high murder rate, or the shitty schools, or the As moving to Fremont - all of those I can see "sending a message" to someone. But I know this rally is against the war in Iraq, so why should I bother showing up?
First off, its being held in Oakland, where there is probably 100% agreement that this is a dumb war, and it is 100% certain that Bush could give a shit what we think. Second, it's in front of the Grand Lake Theater (famous for its owner's political commentary on the marquee), which means they anticipate only about same number of people who showed up for the premiere of Planet of the Apes to be at this rally.
Which will be demoralizing, right? I mean, with 100% unanimity on this point (at least presumed by the Bush administration), shouldn't Oaklanders turn their attentions elsewhere? Like, to seeing if Hot Fuzz is any good?
Monday, April 30, 2007
A Day in Gotham
Well, the BART doesn't smell any better just because its free. Whew! What is up with not bathing?
With the Bay Area knocked on its commuting butt by the ravages of 8600 gallons of burning fuel, some accommodations must be made, I know. Things have gone smoothly though. Except for the grown woman I saw run up to a TV camera set up in the station and act like a fool, everyone seems to be coping. As on 9-11 and days after, people just live without. Without two major arteries through one of the country's busiest interchanges. I can say this with the full impunity of driving only to Alameda today.
Other SF sightings this week: Market Street at 6th and above IS Hamsterdam. Its wack.
And I saw a guy in high-heeled sneakers dragging a cross - its bottom on a wheel - down Kearney. Why the wheel? Jesus didn't get a wheel. I think I know one thing JWND and that's use a wheel to drag his cross.
Friday, April 27, 2007
I'm Back
At least temporarily. If you don't live in my household, you probably wondered what happened to me. Did I suddenly stop blogging? Well, yeah, I guess I did. But only accidentally. The past two weeks have been filled with such an overabundance of mundanity that I haven't mustered a witty thought in days. Weeks. (In the opinion of some, maybe ever). Mundanities of the tax-paying nature. Researching retiree medical and OPEBs* under GASB** 43/45. That kind of mundane. Like braindead boring.
I typically find that if I write one of these posts, where I apologize and tell you why life is not bloggable, something good*** happens, and I have torrent of posts. So here's hoping. Check back soon.
*Other Post-Employment Benefits
**Governmental Accounting Standards Board
***Good as in, good to write about, not objectively good.
I typically find that if I write one of these posts, where I apologize and tell you why life is not bloggable, something good*** happens, and I have torrent of posts. So here's hoping. Check back soon.
*Other Post-Employment Benefits
**Governmental Accounting Standards Board
***Good as in, good to write about, not objectively good.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Oh, Wait, I Remembered
I was going to blog about how heated the campaign for the Rockridge Community Planning Commission board has gotten. I actually got a campaign email for one candidate. Instead I will add some pix of my dearies.
In this first one, Quinn shows off his babysitting skillz. The little guy is Antwwan, a daytime guest this week, who comes with Blanca each day. Liam pronounces his name "Entron", which makes about as much sense as the spelling of the little guy's name.
You can see for yourself what Liam is doing in this picture. That's right, he's building Mt. St. Helens' erupting over the state of Washington on a U.S. map placemat. My heart swells.
Because, in point of fact, the RCPC election is lamer than it even sounds. It's so NIMBY, so annoying, it makes me want to set myself on fire.*
*Okay, so that last link is a stretch. In the first episode of Arrested Development, Lucille Bluth looks off their yacht at a boat full of gay men, who are chanting "We're here, we're queer, we want to get married on the ocean" and she turns to Lindsay and says, "They're so dramatic, it makes me want to set myself on fire!" And ever since, that line completes probably 1 in 10 sentences that I think.
In this first one, Quinn shows off his babysitting skillz. The little guy is Antwwan, a daytime guest this week, who comes with Blanca each day. Liam pronounces his name "Entron", which makes about as much sense as the spelling of the little guy's name.
You can see for yourself what Liam is doing in this picture. That's right, he's building Mt. St. Helens' erupting over the state of Washington on a U.S. map placemat. My heart swells.
Because, in point of fact, the RCPC election is lamer than it even sounds. It's so NIMBY, so annoying, it makes me want to set myself on fire.*
*Okay, so that last link is a stretch. In the first episode of Arrested Development, Lucille Bluth looks off their yacht at a boat full of gay men, who are chanting "We're here, we're queer, we want to get married on the ocean" and she turns to Lindsay and says, "They're so dramatic, it makes me want to set myself on fire!" And ever since, that line completes probably 1 in 10 sentences that I think.
News Round-Up: Montgomery Edition
I noticed on my yahoo weather ticker that Alabama had a high of 79 degrees today, and it made me wonder, what's up in 'gomery today? Good stuff, as always. A guy showed up drunk at his DUI hearing.
It's a little like shooting fish in a barrel.
It's a little like shooting fish in a barrel.
A nice new feature at the Advertiser website is links to local blogs. All sixteen of them. One by the guy who covers the Biscuits. Another by a rapper named Queazy. An excellent commentator on crime and culture. But I will let you explore them yourselves.
Here in Cali, nothing so interesting is happening. Quinn is crawling. In a less interesting developmental, umm, development. Liam washed his own hair for the first time today. And made a volcano out of Play-Doh.
Sorry the wit is a little spare today. I will try to get crackin' tomorrow.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Friday, April 13, 2007
The Girly Show
My heart swelled with pride yesterday when Liam told me he liked what we were listening to in the car, i.e. Built to Spill. The album was Ultimate Alternative Wavers and for awhile it got excessive airplay both in my life and on my radio show. There are a lot of records that got overplayed in my life, the only thing I could listen to for months at a time. Team Dresch’s Personal Best, Supa Dupa Fly by Missy Elliott, Black Star, Mos Def, Lauryn Hill, Sleater-Kinney "Dig Me Out", Fugazi, Tsunami, Huey Lewis and The News. My quirk of having so many favorites annoyed my fellow DJ. I would announce a song – “This is one of my favorite songs” – and she’d flip, “You say that all the time! How can you have so many favorite songs?” and we’d argue on the air. But what difference did it make, since we had the 3:00 a.m. to 5:00 a.m. slot?
(thanks Andy). It may have been that she wasn’t really annoyed with my “favorites” but was really just annoyed with me. The night before our radio show, I would stay over at her apartment, and we would go to bed artificially early (like 10 pm) so that we’d be able to get up for the show. And we would lie on her futon, fully awake, listening to her roommates in the kitchen, and I would reach over and poke her. Or pat her cheek. And she would freak out and kick off the covers and make gagging noises and threaten to beat me. And then she’d settle down and I would do it again. And again. Annoying Ella was really one of the easiest, and simplest, pleasures in life. In fact, it really annoyed Ella a lot that I kept her Built to Spill album for years. I can't be certain that I wasn't listening to it in the car yesterday.
Now Ella has someone new to poke and pat her, and to poke and pat in return. Ella had Callum (7 lb. 15 oz.) last night around 11:45 pm. Congratulations to Ella and Dan on the addition of their new little rocker.
(thanks Andy). It may have been that she wasn’t really annoyed with my “favorites” but was really just annoyed with me. The night before our radio show, I would stay over at her apartment, and we would go to bed artificially early (like 10 pm) so that we’d be able to get up for the show. And we would lie on her futon, fully awake, listening to her roommates in the kitchen, and I would reach over and poke her. Or pat her cheek. And she would freak out and kick off the covers and make gagging noises and threaten to beat me. And then she’d settle down and I would do it again. And again. Annoying Ella was really one of the easiest, and simplest, pleasures in life. In fact, it really annoyed Ella a lot that I kept her Built to Spill album for years. I can't be certain that I wasn't listening to it in the car yesterday.Now Ella has someone new to poke and pat her, and to poke and pat in return. Ella had Callum (7 lb. 15 oz.) last night around 11:45 pm. Congratulations to Ella and Dan on the addition of their new little rocker.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
A Lot of New Shit Has Come to Light
Occasionally I feel like I live out on the edge of leftist politics, finding liberals to be too annoying and uptight, ruing Repuglicans from afar but never really having to meet one, since I live in Oakland. During the 2004 election, I was a poll judge and 4 votes were cast for Bush at my precinct, probably erroneously or as a joke. Out of several hundred. Anyway, turns out I am as centrist and judge-y as the next guy. Here's why:
ARGH. This does NOT refer to people from Columbia, South America, by the way (or British Columbia, either - Canadians are far too sensible for this stupid shit). This refers to law students at Columbia University. NLG is the National Lawyers Guild, which kicked my law firm out of its ranks in the early 80s for being insufficiently doctrinaire and annoying because we represent capitalist collaborators, errr, I mean labor unions. Or some dumb shit. Anyway, this made me want to empty the contents of our freezer directly into the trash just to spite these little jerks. (I didn't because the food in our freezer is mostly freezer-burnt, so it would have accomplished some purpose, unlike this dumpster-diving excursion).
In other news, the Science Times this week has a special on Desire (code word for S-E-X) and wow, is it TMI regarding Jane Brody's sex life. Have you no sense of shame, Ms. Brody? Are you not a cold and reasoning scientist?
Yeah, okay, you are sex maniac, JB. Come back to me with actual scientific data, and not a "wink-wink, nudge, nudge" about your holiday weekend, please.
Here's the skinny on Ms. D in the photo below. She was minding her own business, heading into the grocery store when she notices a mob of reporters in the parking lot. She lifts her jacket over her head to avoid the rush of people, and Rudy G. yells out, "New York! You knew I would be here" or "Hey D, what's up?" or "I feel so welcome!" or something, and she says, "I didn't wear this for you!" And believe me, Deana (pronounced "Deee-Anna") sounded just like Mr. T when she said it, because she usually does. It's pretty D to call out a presidential candidate (but then run home and call her friends about it 3 or 4 times til they call her back).
NLG DUMPSTERING TOUR!!!!!
Monday, April 23, 9:30 pm. Meet at the Broadway gates. Have you ever wondered what happens to all the food in the grocery store when the "expiration date" arrives?Curious about just how much New York City wastes?Want to learn how to eat for free in the Big Apple? Yup, you read that last one right! Join the NLG and lots of other student groups in our end-of-the-year dumpstering tour extravaganza! The tour will be led by environmentalists from the Wetlands Collective, and will take us all around our Morningside Heights neighborhood. We will learn all about the environmental and humanitarian impact of our city's very wasteful ways, see the waste first-hand, and even stock up on groceries for those who dare! You may be wondering: Wait, food from the garbage, isn't that gross?If the food isn't gross, shouldn't I leave it for hungrier people?Why would anyone throw away perfectly good food?How can all of this food waste be prevented?Why aren't the stores giving all this food to soup kitchens?Is that illegal?Are you crazy?If you share any of these curiosities -- come for the tour and ask away!! The tour will be in our neighborhood, so you can meet up with us if you are late. Please feel free to forward this on to other Columbia groups/individuals who may be interested. Non-Columbianites are also welcome.
ARGH. This does NOT refer to people from Columbia, South America, by the way (or British Columbia, either - Canadians are far too sensible for this stupid shit). This refers to law students at Columbia University. NLG is the National Lawyers Guild, which kicked my law firm out of its ranks in the early 80s for being insufficiently doctrinaire and annoying because we represent capitalist collaborators, errr, I mean labor unions. Or some dumb shit. Anyway, this made me want to empty the contents of our freezer directly into the trash just to spite these little jerks. (I didn't because the food in our freezer is mostly freezer-burnt, so it would have accomplished some purpose, unlike this dumpster-diving excursion).
In other news, the Science Times this week has a special on Desire (code word for S-E-X) and wow, is it TMI regarding Jane Brody's sex life. Have you no sense of shame, Ms. Brody? Are you not a cold and reasoning scientist?
I have no studies to corroborate this idea, but I strongly suspect that older people who stay in shape physically, keep their brains stimulated and remain interested in a variety of activities are likely to feel more attractive and be more attractive — and thus more libidinous — than those who let themselves go to pot, as it were.
Yeah, okay, you are sex maniac, JB. Come back to me with actual scientific data, and not a "wink-wink, nudge, nudge" about your holiday weekend, please.
Here's the skinny on Ms. D in the photo below. She was minding her own business, heading into the grocery store when she notices a mob of reporters in the parking lot. She lifts her jacket over her head to avoid the rush of people, and Rudy G. yells out, "New York! You knew I would be here" or "Hey D, what's up?" or "I feel so welcome!" or something, and she says, "I didn't wear this for you!" And believe me, Deana (pronounced "Deee-Anna") sounded just like Mr. T when she said it, because she usually does. It's pretty D to call out a presidential candidate (but then run home and call her friends about it 3 or 4 times til they call her back).
Sunday, April 08, 2007
The Iowan Voter
You really need to know Deana to know why this is so funny:
I guess now that she lives in Iowa, we can expect to see more of her with the candidates.
I guess now that she lives in Iowa, we can expect to see more of her with the candidates.
Friday, April 06, 2007
It's About Time
You will be relieved to hear that Marjorie Knoller and Robert Noel have finally had their law licenses revoked by the state of California. After only 6 years. Did their disbarment files fall behind the desk, or is disbarment in this state that difficult? In case you're wondering where the LKDFs* are now, she lives in Del Ray, FL, and he's in Fairfield.
*Mother-in-law, don't read this part. LKDF is Lesbian Killing Dog F***ers.
*Mother-in-law, don't read this part. LKDF is Lesbian Killing Dog F***ers.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Look Who's Back
Well la-ti-da. I was strolling through The Science Times this evening, barely absorbing Natalie Angiers' "poetry", when who should I stumble over in the letters column. You got it. Mr. Marans is ba-ack. Today, Mr. Marans recalls his graduate years, and congratulates himself for not offing his thesis advisor. How Stuart Smalley of him to reward himself for his lack of felonious conduct.
Does This Roll of Fat Make Me Look Fat?
As I near Q's nine-month anniversary of birth, I contemplate the jelly roll two kids have left behind. The adage on pregnancy weight is nine months up, nine months back, but it could take a little longer over here, even if I continue to say that this spare tire is composed entirely of excess skin. I took umbrage at a stranger asking me when I was due last week, but then tonight Liam asked, "Do you have a nudder baby in there?" Time to make an April Fool's Resolution to get a gym membership.
I need to address a couple of other issues as well. For those who are just joining St. Scobie's, here is my post on the origin of the name of the blog. I invite you to begin at the beginning, and partake of bed races, Jack Roberts and all the haggis in a can you can possibly eat.
Congratulations to rockstarjenny for winning St. Scobie's Mock Brackets. If I ever have Smile Rockridge! T-shirts printed, you'll get the first ringer off the screen press.
Finally, thanks to Pat for bringing the Hilltop Legos Interdiction to my attention. It seriously out-Berkeleys almost anything I have heard lately. Suddenly the confiscation of my kid's aircraft carrier photos by a Broccoli Montessori teacher, sans deprogramming efforts, seems reasonable. I don't have the mental power right now to process all the soul-crushing bullshit in that article; attacking its wrongheadedness would be like shooting monkeys in a barrel (metaphor intentionally mixed). Can you imagine the world we'd live in as conceived of by these teachers? This is why places like AZone and college exist; it keeps all the "thinkers" together, away from young children.
I need to address a couple of other issues as well. For those who are just joining St. Scobie's, here is my post on the origin of the name of the blog. I invite you to begin at the beginning, and partake of bed races, Jack Roberts and all the haggis in a can you can possibly eat.
Congratulations to rockstarjenny for winning St. Scobie's Mock Brackets. If I ever have Smile Rockridge! T-shirts printed, you'll get the first ringer off the screen press.
Finally, thanks to Pat for bringing the Hilltop Legos Interdiction to my attention. It seriously out-Berkeleys almost anything I have heard lately. Suddenly the confiscation of my kid's aircraft carrier photos by a Broccoli Montessori teacher, sans deprogramming efforts, seems reasonable. I don't have the mental power right now to process all the soul-crushing bullshit in that article; attacking its wrongheadedness would be like shooting monkeys in a barrel (metaphor intentionally mixed). Can you imagine the world we'd live in as conceived of by these teachers? This is why places like AZone and college exist; it keeps all the "thinkers" together, away from young children.
Actual Irony
Ms. Morissette has completely redeemed herself with this:
It helps to see the original:
God, I hate Fergie. Fergie is the new Alanis, and Alanis rocks.
It helps to see the original:
God, I hate Fergie. Fergie is the new Alanis, and Alanis rocks.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
By Way of Explanation
That last blog post is, admittedly, incoherent. But its not because I was drunk or anything; I was typing it on my Blackberry (tm) in the dark, in a moving car, while trying to hold a conversation with a from-out-of-town friend ("JW"). As a reader to this blog, JW wanted to contribute, as all readers to this blog should. Thus the urinal dilemma, to which I have no valuable response, other than to again express discomfort with the notion of what happens in mens' bathrooms w/r/t the urinals. But I can't actually answer his question.
Another contribution of JW's was to ask to go to a rotating tourist bar in SF. While The View Lounge at the top of the Marriott does not technically rotate, the carpet will make your head spin. Or maybe its the all-over corniness of the place. Or maybe its vertigo-curing windows. Anyway, the place sucks, and demonstrates anew why SF is such a half-assed city. Even our worst tourist bar is just too lame to enjoy.
Another contribution of JW's was to ask to go to a rotating tourist bar in SF. While The View Lounge at the top of the Marriott does not technically rotate, the carpet will make your head spin. Or maybe its the all-over corniness of the place. Or maybe its vertigo-curing windows. Anyway, the place sucks, and demonstrates anew why SF is such a half-assed city. Even our worst tourist bar is just too lame to enjoy.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Guest blogger!
Okay, technically J W is not a guest blogger, since I'm writing this for him. But I will pretend to be him for the purpose of this post, I will pretend to be him.
When you go into a men's room where there's a urinal and a toilet but no divider, do you lock the door? Or do you ask they guy what he needs to do and let him in if its compatible? (AL- compatible is my word, not J's.)
Now we're going to either Sky Bar or a red sox expat bar, depending. This is live blogging at its blandest.
Friday, March 30, 2007
I Leave You With This
Before you go enjoy your weekend, I thought I would spoil it with a few things. Barack O'bama, heating it up Beach Babe-style.
And then prepare to kill many minutes and brain cells enjoying all the different name generators at Rum & Monkey. I like the Mormon Name Generator, but I think you'll also enjoy naming your penis, or the Damned Hippie Name Generator.*
If I were going to write a Name Generator, it would be a Jam Band Name Generator, but it would go like this: Pick any combination of the following words to name your jam band: Funk, Monkey, Cheese, Sandwich, Brothers and All-New. By the way, do they still even have jam bands anymore? Man, I hate jam bands.
* Jane Stillwater's name is Peace Juniper, by the way.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Good Times, Good Times
Up is down, left is right, hip hop is not cool anymore.
First of all, there's Karl Rove rapping. Sheesh. I'm not embedding the YouTube version because its too damn long. Second, I heard Gangsters Paradise on NPR this morning. Hunh?
Well, since Michelle Pfieffer is in the Coolio video, I guess its not that cool.
And speaking of embedding, a 64-year-old woman from Berkeley is flying to Kuwait with a sleeping bag this week to try to find a military unit to embed with. It's like Cindy Sheehan without a plan (or even less of a plan). Imagine yourself in that army unit, on the prowl for insurgents, and there's a Berkeley hippie lady in your Humvee. How psyched are you? Probably she smells a little like the pee-pee she refuses to flush*, maybe has her cat with her, definitely wearing a patchwork quilt item of clothing, eating peanut butter sandwiches. The most presumptuous and annoying part:
Journalists kidnapped in Iraq: 45
That doesn't include the injuries, or the media support people who have been injured or killed in Iraq. I am sure they'd be offended by her ignorant assumptions, if they weren't too busy doing legitimate reporting from the frontlines.
Bozo.
* Sorry to be gross, but this is based on an actual BHL that I know of.
First of all, there's Karl Rove rapping. Sheesh. I'm not embedding the YouTube version because its too damn long. Second, I heard Gangsters Paradise on NPR this morning. Hunh?
Well, since Michelle Pfieffer is in the Coolio video, I guess its not that cool.
And speaking of embedding, a 64-year-old woman from Berkeley is flying to Kuwait with a sleeping bag this week to try to find a military unit to embed with. It's like Cindy Sheehan without a plan (or even less of a plan). Imagine yourself in that army unit, on the prowl for insurgents, and there's a Berkeley hippie lady in your Humvee. How psyched are you? Probably she smells a little like the pee-pee she refuses to flush*, maybe has her cat with her, definitely wearing a patchwork quilt item of clothing, eating peanut butter sandwiches. The most presumptuous and annoying part:
Money for Arabic translators? Unnecessary. "I've been all over the world," she said, "and you always find people who speak English."Oh, no, wait. Maybe this is the most presumptuous part:
She's tired of getting news from TV journalists who throw on a khaki vest for a few photo ops before flying home first-class.Umm, how many journalists have been killed in Iraq? 97
Journalists kidnapped in Iraq: 45
That doesn't include the injuries, or the media support people who have been injured or killed in Iraq. I am sure they'd be offended by her ignorant assumptions, if they weren't too busy doing legitimate reporting from the frontlines.
Bozo.
* Sorry to be gross, but this is based on an actual BHL that I know of.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
I Know
In my heart of hearts, that its not okay to make fun of people, so I won't. But if you want to, email me and I will send you the awesomest blog I have seen today. I don't even want to post a link because I think the blog may be able to trace it to me, and I really don't want these people to think I am making fun of them, even though, in my heart, I am.
Overheard
Sitting in a bagel shop, listening to three electricians discussing the times that they, like Tony LaRusso, have fallen asleep at the wheel driving drunk.
"I was up at the club drinking hella hard mixed drinks, get out in my Impala and damn if I don't get up to the last light before my house and fall out. Wake up when a dude behind me wants to make a left. Look in the 'meer' and ohmigod if I was Tony LaRussa, I'd be in jail."
So uplifting.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Fresh Disappointments.
It's only Monday morning and already this week is full of disappointment. UNC is out of the Final Four, hurtling me to the middle of the bracket. My mother sent me "the article" about how day care destroys the minds of our next generation, hurtling me to a mental place of anger, disappointment, guilt, non-guilt, blame, self-loathing, and yet also, to work.
Finally, and possibly the most disappointing thing that I have learned in a long time:
Sammy Davis Jr.'s Candy Man is not a double entendre.
Finally, and possibly the most disappointing thing that I have learned in a long time:
Sammy Davis Jr.'s Candy Man is not a double entendre.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Sundry Thoughts
First sundry thought: blog entries are very hard to title.
Second sundry thought: Okay, bracketeers, there are some basketball games tonight, so stop pretending to concentrate on that Purchase Agreement or Modalities Matrix or whatever it is you are pretending to concentrate on, and browse incessantly over to the NCAA Men's basketball scores. Sheesh. Why am I the one who always has to remind you? Oh, right, because I am The Commissioner. If I needed any evidence that I need to remind people of things, the fact that my own husband didn't do any picks is Exhibit A.
Third sundry thought: Is Edwards caught in a Presidential catch-22 or what? The guy has decided to stay in the race, despite the fact that his wife has stage 4 cancer of the. . . body . . . and has 2 tiny children to love and care for. This makes him seem like an unelectable lout. So what's the only way he could overcome that, and seem loving and electable? If he drops out of the race. The only way to be winnable is to not run. Which is Al Gore's strategy, obviously. But how many people can use that and still (not) win?
Second sundry thought: Okay, bracketeers, there are some basketball games tonight, so stop pretending to concentrate on that Purchase Agreement or Modalities Matrix or whatever it is you are pretending to concentrate on, and browse incessantly over to the NCAA Men's basketball scores. Sheesh. Why am I the one who always has to remind you? Oh, right, because I am The Commissioner. If I needed any evidence that I need to remind people of things, the fact that my own husband didn't do any picks is Exhibit A.
Third sundry thought: Is Edwards caught in a Presidential catch-22 or what? The guy has decided to stay in the race, despite the fact that his wife has stage 4 cancer of the. . . body . . . and has 2 tiny children to love and care for. This makes him seem like an unelectable lout. So what's the only way he could overcome that, and seem loving and electable? If he drops out of the race. The only way to be winnable is to not run. Which is Al Gore's strategy, obviously. But how many people can use that and still (not) win?
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Happy Spring!
I was just reading Natalie Angier's column about the vernal equinox - the crux of which is that the equinox falls sort of between March 20 and 21 this year - and I thought What would Zsusanna Budapest think about all this?
The answer is: Zsusanna is pretty certain that the VE falls on March 21. See The Holy Book of Women's Mysteries, v. 1, p. 80. How to celebrate is more complicated. Those assembled at the Bridgeport Holy Temple of Womanhood in March 1998 may recall that it involves string and beer, and possibly grass clippings (actual, not marijuana) and candles. Oh, excuse me, I mean, "Grounds and circle cast, purified with water; admittance in order of age; consecration with fire; corners of the universe evoked; and unifying as usual."
A relatively easy ritual - no foot washing, corn cakes, tamborines, or Dittany of Crete. Just sit back and enjoy the "green flora" and the "maiden aspect."
So mote it be.
The answer is: Zsusanna is pretty certain that the VE falls on March 21. See The Holy Book of Women's Mysteries, v. 1, p. 80. How to celebrate is more complicated. Those assembled at the Bridgeport Holy Temple of Womanhood in March 1998 may recall that it involves string and beer, and possibly grass clippings (actual, not marijuana) and candles. Oh, excuse me, I mean, "Grounds and circle cast, purified with water; admittance in order of age; consecration with fire; corners of the universe evoked; and unifying as usual."
A relatively easy ritual - no foot washing, corn cakes, tamborines, or Dittany of Crete. Just sit back and enjoy the "green flora" and the "maiden aspect."
So mote it be.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Good stuff
"If I wanted something your thumb touched, I would eat the inside of your ear." - Lucille Bluth
Heh heh.
Thursday, Liam told his first riddle. I will retell it in a condensed version:
Q: What do you call a seagull that lives by the bay?
A: A bay-gull
In fact, the real conversation went more like this:
Q: why do seagulls live by the bay?
A: Because they eat fish.
Q: But why?
A: They just do.
Q: Can you call them bagels?
A: Oh, yeah! That's funny!
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Multiple Choice
Who is in a three-way tie for ninth place?
A. Joe Lieberman
B. Hoops Hack over at Mock Brackets
C. University of Chicago
The correct answer is C. The University of Chicago was ranked 9th (tied with Dartmouth College and Columbia University) among undergraduate programs at national universities, according to the 2007 rankings list produced by U.S. News and World Report.
Crescat scientia, b*****es.
A. Joe Lieberman
B. Hoops Hack over at Mock Brackets
C. University of Chicago
The correct answer is C. The University of Chicago was ranked 9th (tied with Dartmouth College and Columbia University) among undergraduate programs at national universities, according to the 2007 rankings list produced by U.S. News and World Report.
Crescat scientia, b*****es.
Let the Games Begin!
Woohoo! It's tip off time! Or whatever the euphemism is for the beginning of a basketball game. Did I get it right? Woohoo! There's already some trashtalk going on over at St. Scobie's Mock Brackets. In addition to several apathetified participants, we have one who is In It To Win It (tm), and she's taking the former professional fantasy sports maven* head on. Quite a match-up. Almost as good as the Terps vs. Gators game we all anticipate. I look forward to kicking all y'all's butts. See ya.
*No joke, Winning Brackets haha built a small empire on her Fantasy Football winnings, while she was a day trader. Never bet her in anything, and never bet against her in charades.
*No joke, Winning Brackets haha built a small empire on her Fantasy Football winnings, while she was a day trader. Never bet her in anything, and never bet against her in charades.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
We Work for You
As you can imagine, while "labor humor" is not exactly an oxymoron, it's close, but I got this clip today, and it made me chuckle.
Enjoy.
Enjoy.
Friday, March 09, 2007
Lazy Summary
For some reason, I have no original or interesting thoughts to impart this week. But a few things:
First of all, today's the last work day to register for the St. Scobie's Mock Brackets March Madness Extravaganza! Meet your fellow Scobites! Make wildly baseless predictions about a sport which you either don't like or don't care enough about to dislike! Or beat those of us who are making baseless predictions! Brackets can be done starting on Sunday, so I will harp on about this again, but go do it now, so you can be sick of it by next week.
From a source (Chronicle, I think) that I don't feel like finding a link to, about a favorite topic of mine:
Heh heh. B asks: "Is there a lamer area code than 415?" Probably 650 or 778, but you know what he means.
Curt Schilling started a blog.
But for some really good reading this week, check out Rangelife.
First of all, today's the last work day to register for the St. Scobie's Mock Brackets March Madness Extravaganza! Meet your fellow Scobites! Make wildly baseless predictions about a sport which you either don't like or don't care enough about to dislike! Or beat those of us who are making baseless predictions! Brackets can be done starting on Sunday, so I will harp on about this again, but go do it now, so you can be sick of it by next week.
From a source (Chronicle, I think) that I don't feel like finding a link to, about a favorite topic of mine:
One law enforcement source told us, "The San Francisco guys were saying, 'Don't mess with us, we're 415' -- and the Yalies were saying, 'Yeah, well, we're 212.'
"All of them trying to act like they were from the hood,'' the source said. "Heck, the only hood any of these guys had ever seen was the hood of a Mercedes-Benz."
Heh heh. B asks: "Is there a lamer area code than 415?" Probably 650 or 778, but you know what he means.
Curt Schilling started a blog.
But for some really good reading this week, check out Rangelife.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Thank God.
Acapella singers can sleep soundly again, now that these two have been charged. Of course, the San Quentin Singers now have something to fear. Soon, they'll be buying smokes from Scooter Libby and sharpening their lacrosse sticks into shivs. Watch out, prison, here they come.
Monday, March 05, 2007
What's Up With Me.
Not much really. I discovered LibraryThing today (via the NY Times) and its a very satisfying hobby, even if it lasts only until I reach the "free" limit.
Also today, I read the best court order ever, at least until the brouhaha over Anna Nicole settles:
“Petitioner shall pay child support in the sum of $75.00 per month per child. In addition, Petitioner shall supply to Respondent all beef, cut and packaged, reasonably required for consumption by the two children.”
Excellent.
Also today, I read the best court order ever, at least until the brouhaha over Anna Nicole settles:
“Petitioner shall pay child support in the sum of $75.00 per month per child. In addition, Petitioner shall supply to Respondent all beef, cut and packaged, reasonably required for consumption by the two children.”
Excellent.
Friday, March 02, 2007
Thursday, March 01, 2007
First! Ever! Community! Event!
St. Scobie's Mock Whiskey is proud and excited to host its first ever community event. And since it's March, you know what time it is. That's right. Madness. March Madness. Join St. Scobie's Mock Brackets today. If the link doesn't get you there, shoot me an email and I will hook you up with an invite. The password is fakenose. This is the fantasy league for those who (a) hate sports; (b) hate basketball; (c) lack hand-eye coordination; and/or (d) believe that the economics of college basketball are cruel and exploitative. We feel your secret shame.
More of What You Want, Part II
If you feel the need to get really creeped out right now, watch just a few minutes of this video. Scary mime!! With Enya-like music! It's truly terrifying.
What else? This morning I overheard my 3-year old engaged in this brief dialogue with himself, while playing with his airplanes on the aircraft carrier Grandpa made for him.
Airplane 1: How was your mission?
Airplane 2: I will burp on you.
(Airplane 1 flies away and then back)
Airplane 1: That was a good mission.
Airplane 2: I fart on you.
Finally, good news for fans of The Wire (read the comments too) and Penthouse. Mmmm, good.
What else? This morning I overheard my 3-year old engaged in this brief dialogue with himself, while playing with his airplanes on the aircraft carrier Grandpa made for him.
Airplane 1: How was your mission?
Airplane 2: I will burp on you.
(Airplane 1 flies away and then back)
Airplane 1: That was a good mission.
Airplane 2: I fart on you.
Finally, good news for fans of The Wire (read the comments too) and Penthouse. Mmmm, good.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Just a Lot Going On
First of all, apologies for my failure to Live Blog (tm) the Oscars. There was just too much going on in our house. My mom's visiting, and she couldn't decide between the Versace and vintage Chanel. She can be really tetchy that way.
Just to get back on the BPN tip, here's one from the Advice Wanted:
Finding a santeria house-------Hi, this is for all the santeros/santeras out there. I know, it's kind of an odd posting, but I need help. I've been somewhat involved with the religion for a few years, and I feel that I REALLY need to move forward with the process, but how do I know who's and where's the right place for me? People just say, ''you'll know'', but I DON'T know. I'd like to connect with some people that went thru this process, and who'll be willing to talk to me and tell me what it was like for them. If any one out there has the time and is willing please send me an email. Thanks. Child of Obatala
And in a possibly related note, I heard a Taco Bell ad on the radio today that was so inexplicable, I cannot even piece together meaning. It involved a carne asada taquito arguing with a woman who was running a spelling bee about whether he could enter the spelling bee. WTF? Fred Kovey was off his rocker on that one, to be sure. I worried that possibly I had gotten accidentally high somehow before getting in the car.
The famous Kate Costello was so inspired by my last post that she created a sculp
ture of Angela Davis. Dig it.
ture of Angela Davis. Dig it. Hmmm. Anything else? Not really. Send me cool things.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Quick Post
This is a quickie just to update you on a couple of things annoying me today, and one thing that is not annoying me.
First, I heard a woman from Emily's List on NPR say yesterday that they are all psyched because Hillary Clinton is the first woman running for president. This is gallingly untrue. Viva Pat Schroeder! She even ran after Emily's List was founded, so, in theory, they already should be over their first-female-candidate jones. That's so 19 years ago. Also, I am not a big third party type, but the Commies and the Greens and so forth have been fielding females for awhile. Angela Davis was the VP candidate on the Communist ticket twice. No love.
Sorry to be all third-wave feminist, unimpressed with Hillary's non-groundbreakingness. It's just too annoying.
More annoying, however, is the current "back to the land" discussion being waged at the Berkeley Parents Network Advice column. It's too wordy to share, but let me summarize. The initial poster wanted to know if she was crazy for wanting to go off the grid, in response to her fears of global warming. Instead of answering, "Yes," people gave her "on-the-one-hand, on-the-other" responses. But no one pointed out that 1 person, or a family of 4, living in the middle of nowhere, can make a bigger negative global impact than living in the city, where you can walk places. I read somewhere (and possibly I will try to find a link later) that Manhattanites leave the smallest "global/environmental footprint" of anyone in America, because they can walk everywhere, and energy costs are lower because everyone is functionally huddled together, sharing heat, etc. You get my point.
Not annoying: Get your war on is funny again today. The second two in particular.
First, I heard a woman from Emily's List on NPR say yesterday that they are all psyched because Hillary Clinton is the first woman running for president. This is gallingly untrue. Viva Pat Schroeder! She even ran after Emily's List was founded, so, in theory, they already should be over their first-female-candidate jones. That's so 19 years ago. Also, I am not a big third party type, but the Commies and the Greens and so forth have been fielding females for awhile. Angela Davis was the VP candidate on the Communist ticket twice. No love.
Sorry to be all third-wave feminist, unimpressed with Hillary's non-groundbreakingness. It's just too annoying.
More annoying, however, is the current "back to the land" discussion being waged at the Berkeley Parents Network Advice column. It's too wordy to share, but let me summarize. The initial poster wanted to know if she was crazy for wanting to go off the grid, in response to her fears of global warming. Instead of answering, "Yes," people gave her "on-the-one-hand, on-the-other" responses. But no one pointed out that 1 person, or a family of 4, living in the middle of nowhere, can make a bigger negative global impact than living in the city, where you can walk places. I read somewhere (and possibly I will try to find a link later) that Manhattanites leave the smallest "global/environmental footprint" of anyone in America, because they can walk everywhere, and energy costs are lower because everyone is functionally huddled together, sharing heat, etc. You get my point.
Not annoying: Get your war on is funny again today. The second two in particular.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Adding insult to injury
Pumping is embarassing and awful enough without being accosted by little old ladies that "the handicapped restroom isn't (bang bang bang) for make-up!" I now hate old ladies.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Jury Wardrobe Coordination is Justice Denied
I still haven't figured out if T&A Lady is serving on the Scooter Libby jury, but if she is, I hope that's her on the end, wearing black. Because it is SO corny for the rest of the jury to wear red on Valentine's Day, together and in solidarity for (what exactly?). T&A Lady, why did you hold out? The corniness? Or do you see a mistrial coming that you can't avert?
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Monday, February 12, 2007
Some Random Thoughts
My three-year-old now walks around singing, "It's just like a mini-mall, it's just like a mini-mall." God knows what they make of that at school.
I found the mother lode of mascot costumes. Clearly it's Plushie Heaven. By the way, if you don't know what a Plushie is, don't google it. You will be sorry. Ask me directly and I will tell you. But you can probably deduce it by visiting here, (you pervert).
I found the mother lode of mascot costumes. Clearly it's Plushie Heaven. By the way, if you don't know what a Plushie is, don't google it. You will be sorry. Ask me directly and I will tell you. But you can probably deduce it by visiting here, (you pervert).
Fathers 4 and 5
This article is too good to pass by. Read the whole thing, as it raises the possibility that J. Howard Marshall II was the posthumous father of Danielyn. Or is it the Bahamanian Immigration Minister? Or is it Daniel, Anna Nicole's son? That last spector is too gross to count as an actual possibility, even though the insinuation is out there.
Thanks for Visiting
There's been a real uptick in earnestness among some of my readers that I wanted to bring to the attention of some of my other readers.
First there were two, two!, members of the Toledo Boosters Club or Junior Chamber of Commerce who weighed in to unnecessarily defend Toledo. I say unnecessarily because I wasn't actually offending Toledo. At least, I didn't think I was.
And then there is the Maria Callas fan who felt the need to reiterate what had been my essential point - that Mary J. Blige is not, despite the hyperbole of the Grammy writing staff, Maria Callas. "Sarah" of The Maria Callas Defense Fund has 21 of her own blogs, and none of them devoted to Maria Callas. Coincidence or oversight? You be the judge.
Is my writing style too subtle? And are there more people out there who troll for Toledo references in blogs so they can take a swig of Franzia and type a rousing defense of their adopted hometown? And by using the word Toledo four times in this post, do I invite their wrath?
First there were two, two!, members of the Toledo Boosters Club or Junior Chamber of Commerce who weighed in to unnecessarily defend Toledo. I say unnecessarily because I wasn't actually offending Toledo. At least, I didn't think I was.
And then there is the Maria Callas fan who felt the need to reiterate what had been my essential point - that Mary J. Blige is not, despite the hyperbole of the Grammy writing staff, Maria Callas. "Sarah" of The Maria Callas Defense Fund has 21 of her own blogs, and none of them devoted to Maria Callas. Coincidence or oversight? You be the judge.
Is my writing style too subtle? And are there more people out there who troll for Toledo references in blogs so they can take a swig of Franzia and type a rousing defense of their adopted hometown? And by using the word Toledo four times in this post, do I invite their wrath?
Sunday, February 11, 2007
10:04
I am burned out. There's too much awfulness. The baby is crying again. Is Imogen Heap related to Uriah Heap or just trying to make it seem that way? And what does that "say" about her? That's it for me. This was good practice for the Oscars, Feb 25, and for when I quit my job to blog full-time. Thanks and good night.
10:01
Imogene Heap is the rat's nest head. Go Fug Yourself is going to have a field day with her when they get back from fashion week.
By the way, the ugly rat's nest pictured is not even the one I am referring to at the Grammys. It's a different one. She's decided to substitute wacky millinery for actual talent, I presume.
9:57
This is hell on earth. It's that other Eagles' song. You know, "they had one thing in common..."
Life in the fast lane.
This blond chick is in her negligee. Who is this hideous guy she has to sing with?
Are the Eagles getting a lifetime achievement award too? Is this a catch-up year, so they can honor decent bands next year (Grammy's 50th Anniversary) and not have to answer why they aren't honoring the Dead or the Eagles?
Life in the fast lane.
This blond chick is in her negligee. Who is this hideous guy she has to sing with?
Are the Eagles getting a lifetime achievement award too? Is this a catch-up year, so they can honor decent bands next year (Grammy's 50th Anniversary) and not have to answer why they aren't honoring the Dead or the Eagles?
9:52
ARGH. I was okay with the Bob Wills tribute, because, well, I like Bob Wills. But this crappola Hotel California. ugh. I prefer Tom and Scott's version. Tom was my boyfriend sophomore year of high school, and my birthday gift that year was a tape he and his best friend had recorded of themselves singing Hotel California, The Rose, Dust in the Wind and I can't remember the other song. Anyway, I am only now getting over my mordification from it. He gave it to me with a rose, and the letter accompanying it called me, "my darling". I think I need to go into therapy just recalling it.
double ugh. Desperado cover. The Eagles are, with hindsight, emerging as the crappiest band ever to have recorded an album.
double ugh. Desperado cover. The Eagles are, with hindsight, emerging as the crappiest band ever to have recorded an album.
While We Have A Break
I have to admit that I did something really dumb the other night. It's not what you think. Or anything like that.
Liam has been complaining about a ghost problem lately. I made the mistake of telling him that my breast pump is a ghost machine that sucks ghosts out of his room and holds them. It was a Ghostbusters-inspired moment but now I am going to have to bring the pump in there every night to detox the room, because the other options* don't work now.
* The other options are: (1) denying there are ghosts, (2) putting the ghosts in "time out", (3) teaching Liam that ghosts are afraid of a mean face and (4) kicking the ghosts out by holding them out over my foot and making a kicking motion towards the door.
Liam has been complaining about a ghost problem lately. I made the mistake of telling him that my breast pump is a ghost machine that sucks ghosts out of his room and holds them. It was a Ghostbusters-inspired moment but now I am going to have to bring the pump in there every night to detox the room, because the other options* don't work now.
* The other options are: (1) denying there are ghosts, (2) putting the ghosts in "time out", (3) teaching Liam that ghosts are afraid of a mean face and (4) kicking the ghosts out by holding them out over my foot and making a kicking motion towards the door.
9:41
Portia di Rossi looks great but Ellen DeGeneres has a wierd scarf on. Not a good look. Very aviator, and not in the good way that Cee-Lo pulled off earlier.
I could have forgiven the DixieChix if they had tipped their hat to Willie but that little "heh heh" remark just sucked. F*** you. The whole country hates the war in Iraq now. You do not have a monopoly on dissent and you aren't interesting or articulate. So now we all hate you, the red staters and the blue staters. Or at least, I do.
I could have forgiven the DixieChix if they had tipped their hat to Willie but that little "heh heh" remark just sucked. F*** you. The whole country hates the war in Iraq now. You do not have a monopoly on dissent and you aren't interesting or articulate. So now we all hate you, the red staters and the blue staters. Or at least, I do.
9:39
Mandy Moore looks like Xena. Leann Rimes' breasts have gone missing. Luke Wilson is just bummed that he couldn't find Kanye before he came on stage.
I hope Willie Nelson wins whatever category this is.
He didn't.
God I hate the Dixie Chix.
I hope Willie Nelson wins whatever category this is.
He didn't.
God I hate the Dixie Chix.
9:34
It's a wee bit of an overreach, I think, to compare Mary J. Blige to Maria Callas. Sorry, Terrence Howard, I know you didn't write that line. But why didn't you point out that you have no connection this year to music, that Hustle & Flow was last year, and you have something new happening, so give that line to someone else. Like Common. Or Karl Lagerfeld.
9:24
Kanye smoked up. Just pot though, so don't worry mom-in-law.
Common's transformation into Isaac Hayes is complete.
Common's transformation into Isaac Hayes is complete.
9:19
The Grateful Dead don't have a Lifetime Achievement Award yet? I mean, until now?
Gnarls Barkley. I like. What's with the pilot uniforms? It's awesome.
Gnarls Barkley. I like. What's with the pilot uniforms? It's awesome.
9:16
This Chevy ad stinks. The Hot Pockets ad, on the other hand, rules. And here's why: After the family gets the hot pockets from dad, they all turn towards eachother and laugh. I love when that happens in a commercial. I also love when that happens in my real life.
9:12
The Dixie Chicks don't actually make me want to support the war in Iraq just to spite them, but I am thisclose.
Did you like how Seal had to appear with Karl Lagerfeld?
Did you like how Seal had to appear with Karl Lagerfeld?
9:05
Shakira is wearing some wierd-ass gold breastplate. And I don't mean gold-covered. I mean solid gold. Her sole talent is belly-dancing. Not that I am casting aspersions, since i can't even do that.
Wait, is this Indian? Egyptian? Latino? What.is.that? The back-up dancers have a certain Gladiator look to them, with their gold-plated bellybuttons.
Wyclef sucks so bad I can't even think of anything funny to say. His belt is gold and he possibly has some sort of Palestinian prayer cloth around his neck. Not sure. Or is that a flag from Shakira's fake-ass Egyptian-Hindu-Spanish country?
Wait, is this Indian? Egyptian? Latino? What.is.that? The back-up dancers have a certain Gladiator look to them, with their gold-plated bellybuttons.
Wyclef sucks so bad I can't even think of anything funny to say. His belt is gold and he possibly has some sort of Palestinian prayer cloth around his neck. Not sure. Or is that a flag from Shakira's fake-ass Egyptian-Hindu-Spanish country?
9:00
I am almost certain that John Mayer thanked Jim Jad-wee-zee-ak. AKA The Bagel Miser. Who is AWOL from ROTC still, as far as I know.
8:55
Wow, this whole medley is just unlistenable. I don't really like John Mayer but there's gotta be better material in his repertoire. I bet Jessica Simpson thought he would go for her. She's seen too many make-over teen romance movies. You know the routine: popular kid remakes nerd, nerd gets popular, ditches popular kid, who has fallen for nerd. She thought she could do that. But she mistook what kind of nerd he is. He's the kind of nerd who can get the kind of girls he goes for, girls who are applying to graduate school.
8:57 - Poor Nelly Furtado. She has to appear with Pussy Cat Dolls to give an award. How the might have fallen.
8:57 - Poor Nelly Furtado. She has to appear with Pussy Cat Dolls to give an award. How the might have fallen.
8:49
I am not one to talk but this child here is flat. I have never heard of this person. Corinne something? With John Mayer and John Legend? We'll call her Girl John. She's lame.
8:46
According to the crawler, the Flaming Lips won something. Best Engineering, Non-Classical for At-War with the Mystics. Hmm, sort of throwing actual musicians a bone there. I suspect the remaining Doors would have preferred their lifetime achievement award be delivered by the Lips, but we can't always get what we want. (I guess that's a different 60s rock band).
The stage is hideous. Like its left over from a VH1 Best of This Week Awards show.
The baby is crying AGAIN, so I may need to stop. Plus I am not sure that even I can keep up this frenetic pace.
oooooh, Stevie W. looks uncomfortable up there by himself.
The stage is hideous. Like its left over from a VH1 Best of This Week Awards show.
The baby is crying AGAIN, so I may need to stop. Plus I am not sure that even I can keep up this frenetic pace.
oooooh, Stevie W. looks uncomfortable up there by himself.
8:40
The woman behind Beyonce has a nest of sticks and leaves on her head.
Oop, MJ just won another thing. Blige that is. Michael Jordan does not appear to be nominated for anything.
Oop, MJ just won another thing. Blige that is. Michael Jordan does not appear to be nominated for anything.
8:37
Justin again. This is so embarassing. He has a little penlight camera that he's holding in front of his face so his song is sung like right up in the camera and his nose looks prominent and it just sucks.
8:38 - Oh, Pink is the best they can do to honor The Doors. Fuck you very much, say the remaining members of the band.
8:38 - Oh, Pink is the best they can do to honor The Doors. Fuck you very much, say the remaining members of the band.
8:33
Justin Timberlake just looks scuzzy. Sorry, but it's true. Lose the, uh, coffee cake crumbs on your face.
Live! Grammy Blog!
In order to keep my attention on the Grammys, I thought I would live blog it.
8:24 - Mary J. Blige. Why does she need a Grammy when she's already arrived? And by "arrived", I mean "sitting in front of Prince." Her thank you list was exhaustive but I suspect she'll be back. She already thanked J.C. so I guess that leaves us The Father and The Holy Ghost for best R&B Female and best R&B Duo.
Why is the plural Grammy "Grammys" and not "Grammies"? I guess that sounds like "grandma" and "nummies", which is NOT something I want to conjure.
8:31 - Idris Elba sighting. He was choking on takeout Chinese take-out in the ad for the new Tyler Perry movie. He still looked hot.
8:24 - Mary J. Blige. Why does she need a Grammy when she's already arrived? And by "arrived", I mean "sitting in front of Prince." Her thank you list was exhaustive but I suspect she'll be back. She already thanked J.C. so I guess that leaves us The Father and The Holy Ghost for best R&B Female and best R&B Duo.
Why is the plural Grammy "Grammys" and not "Grammies"? I guess that sounds like "grandma" and "nummies", which is NOT something I want to conjure.
8:31 - Idris Elba sighting. He was choking on takeout Chinese take-out in the ad for the new Tyler Perry movie. He still looked hot.
Friday, February 09, 2007
When the Dust Settles
How many daddies will little Danielynn Marshall Smith Stern Birkhead van Anhalt have? And wouldn't it make a hilarious movie? Zsa Zsa's husband could be played by Tom Selleck, and Howard K. Stern could be played by Ted Danson, and Larry Birkhead could be played by, umm, the other guy.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Shhh, Don't Tell Him
Here's the Valentine's gift I have picked out for Mr. Scobie:
The sad part is, our bathroom is nowhere near large enough for this get-up. Ah well, a girl can dream. By the way, that's the Roto-Rooter Pimped Out John.Wednesday, February 07, 2007
New Data!!
New evidence has been discovered of humanity's innate corniness! Proof that Valentine's Day pranks are the new rage! That teenagers have been "intimate" since before Jesus!
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Restore NASA's Budget
When astronauts have the time to don wigs and diapers, embarassing themselves and our space program in the process, it's time to dig between the cushions of America's couch for some spare change to restore NASA's budget. Send them to space, or don't, but just keep them busy enough to stop them from engaging in sophomoric stalking, writ painfully large.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Finally
Props to Brian Schwartz of Toledo, OH, who, unlike Alanis Morrisette, understands the meaning of irony.
It was so cold that Toledo, Ohio — 5 above zero at noon, up from 4 below — even closed its outdoor ice rink. "The irony is not lost on us," said city spokesman Brian Schwartz.If it weren't so bitter-ass cold, I'd say Toledo seems like a good place to raise children, teach them how to to ice skate, and how to properly use popular literary devices/modes of collegiate humor.
It's Just Like a Mini-Mall
This is the first song to push Irreplaceable out of the permanent Muzak in my brain, finally.
Thanks KML and thank you, God, for the day you brought video technology to Alabama.
Thanks KML and thank you, God, for the day you brought video technology to Alabama.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Too Lazy to Blog
I haven't written anything this week because I have been just too lazy to blog. I've even had good(ish) ideas, but been too lazy to even search for links to support them. How lame is that? There's nothing lamer. I am too lame to engage in even the lamest blogging. But I will give it a shot.
The thing that's been on my mind this week is all the good new words and phrases I have come across in the past few days. For example, this New York Times article concerns French government efforts to fight "banalization" in French culture. Apparently the French are up in arms (or s'insurger, as the case may be) that mega-stores are taking over the tonier parts of Paris. Great word. What took them so long? But my question is, is banal a French word? Mon dieu! I believe that the French word for banal is poncif. That would make this trend "poncification". La voila! Double Mon Dieu! Poncification means "to pronounce a word is a deliberately poncy/french way. Target, a crappy superstore becomes t'argey." Pretty tautological, as problems go, no? So to make banal is to make French. Good luck, Mr. Chirac, coming up with a governmental solution to this problem. Still, banalization = good word.
Elsewhere, I read this: "vomiting from places other than your mouth". It's in Please Read Before Suing, in the Shouts & Murmurs column in the New Yorker. I laughed out loud when I read that, possibly from disgust and surprise.*
In my laziness, I cannot remember the other great words I read this week. Sorry.
One other thought on the use of words. This week, T&A Lady sparked quite a discussion about what a gal should call the man she marries. I even outed her, umm, dude as a, umm, guy. Anyway, it reminded me of a good rule of thumb, generally applicable: Would you be able to call someone by that name to a federal judge? This was the gauntlet question to my own dude back when he wanted to name our first child Buckaroo. Mr. Scobie acquiesced, and the rest is, well, whatever it is. My "husband" admitted he couldn't introduce his child as Buckaroo to a federal judge. So, T&A Lady, how would you introduce your fella, if you had to (again), to a federal judge?
* Also in The New Yorker this week is a piece by Ryszard Kapusciski. Kapuscinski died recently, but I had been thinking about him. In college, I read Shah of Shahs, the Emperor and The Shadow of the Sun in rapid succession for no reason other than they were among the best books I had ever read. I swore I would never forget them, and then I did. Any time I hear about Hallie Selassie or the Shah of Iran, I have this vague feeling I once knew something about them. But how often is that, right? Anyway, read one of these books.
The thing that's been on my mind this week is all the good new words and phrases I have come across in the past few days. For example, this New York Times article concerns French government efforts to fight "banalization" in French culture. Apparently the French are up in arms (or s'insurger, as the case may be) that mega-stores are taking over the tonier parts of Paris. Great word. What took them so long? But my question is, is banal a French word? Mon dieu! I believe that the French word for banal is poncif. That would make this trend "poncification". La voila! Double Mon Dieu! Poncification means "to pronounce a word is a deliberately poncy/french way. Target, a crappy superstore becomes t'argey." Pretty tautological, as problems go, no? So to make banal is to make French. Good luck, Mr. Chirac, coming up with a governmental solution to this problem. Still, banalization = good word.
Elsewhere, I read this: "vomiting from places other than your mouth". It's in Please Read Before Suing, in the Shouts & Murmurs column in the New Yorker. I laughed out loud when I read that, possibly from disgust and surprise.*
In my laziness, I cannot remember the other great words I read this week. Sorry.
One other thought on the use of words. This week, T&A Lady sparked quite a discussion about what a gal should call the man she marries. I even outed her, umm, dude as a, umm, guy. Anyway, it reminded me of a good rule of thumb, generally applicable: Would you be able to call someone by that name to a federal judge? This was the gauntlet question to my own dude back when he wanted to name our first child Buckaroo. Mr. Scobie acquiesced, and the rest is, well, whatever it is. My "husband" admitted he couldn't introduce his child as Buckaroo to a federal judge. So, T&A Lady, how would you introduce your fella, if you had to (again), to a federal judge?
* Also in The New Yorker this week is a piece by Ryszard Kapusciski. Kapuscinski died recently, but I had been thinking about him. In college, I read Shah of Shahs, the Emperor and The Shadow of the Sun in rapid succession for no reason other than they were among the best books I had ever read. I swore I would never forget them, and then I did. Any time I hear about Hallie Selassie or the Shah of Iran, I have this vague feeling I once knew something about them. But how often is that, right? Anyway, read one of these books.
Monday, January 29, 2007
Eye Boggling
Despite all the "outrageous" colors in this picture, I thought it would be easier to endure than the one in the last post. All the grammas were clamoring for some shots of the Q, so I hope this satisfies.
Do Not Try This At Home
Rangelife suggests the following game: plunk any random letters into Google Image search, and wacky hi-jinx ensue. Beware, however, as mkjd yields this:
Overheard
"I try to make all my Powerpoints tongue-in-cheek."
Woman eating in Boudin's in Macy's at Union Square, 12:43pm, Jan. 29, 2007
Classic
I know the window for blogging about this closed long ago, like before the house was built, but Alanis Morrisette's Ironic, is due for a better-late-than-never ass-chewing. I also don't think I ever even listened to it all the way through before this morning in the car. But not one single metaphor in the whole song is ironic. Is that the ironic part? I'm amazed that this song is as galling today as it was 15 years ago, or whenever it came out. God forbid Alanis and Live Aid ever collaborate, is all I can say.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Two Examples of Twue Love
Stalled as I occasionally become for blog topics, I asked my dear husband to find something for me to blog about. He did. While I believe his courage and sacrifice in this task were great, they fall slightly behind the ass-kicking that Nell Hamm gave that mountain lion to save her husband. I am sure that Brook would do the same, if a mountain lion comes to Thomas Avenue.*
*Between this story and the story about James Kim, there is pretty much no chance I am traveling north of Sausalito ever again.
*Between this story and the story about James Kim, there is pretty much no chance I am traveling north of Sausalito ever again.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Hidden Gems of Print Advertising
For the first time in six years of living in Oakland, I opened the Wednesday mail circular called PennySaver. I never knew what a treasure I was throwing away every week. Here are a few of the things on offer:
2 Pigeons - $14/both
Collectors Plate – “Baby Raccoon” excellent condition $18
Collectors Plate – “Koala” excellent condition Hamilton collection $18
Cemetary/Funeral: Double Niche – Indoors, Chapel of the Chimes, Hayward, priced for quick sale. $7500 obo.
Health Care: Awesome Deal – Large Adult Undergarments, Liners, Pads, Diapers. $30/all
That’s a lot of good value for $7,566.
Admittedly, I don’t have a lot going on right now, so my judgment may be skewed a bit.
By the way, Undercover Black Man has the second half of his David Simon interview up.
2 Pigeons - $14/both
Collectors Plate – “Baby Raccoon” excellent condition $18
Collectors Plate – “Koala” excellent condition Hamilton collection $18
Cemetary/Funeral: Double Niche – Indoors, Chapel of the Chimes, Hayward, priced for quick sale. $7500 obo.
Health Care: Awesome Deal – Large Adult Undergarments, Liners, Pads, Diapers. $30/all
That’s a lot of good value for $7,566.
Admittedly, I don’t have a lot going on right now, so my judgment may be skewed a bit.
By the way, Undercover Black Man has the second half of his David Simon interview up.
Please Don't
The second story in SF Chronicle's Matier & Ross column today concerns the fact that downtown SF parking meters bring in, on average, less than an hour's worth of time each day. Got that?
Okay, so that isn't the biggest scandal to rock aught-seven. But here's what I am getting to:
Yuck. Please. Don't. Go. There.
Believe it or not, the average collection last year for a meter in San Francisco's parking-packed downtown was only $2.61 a day, according to a new report from the city's budget analyst. And that's for meters that charge $3 an hour.
In other words, on an average 9-hour business day, the city wound up collecting less than an hour's worth of coins per meter in the downtown last year.
Okay, so that isn't the biggest scandal to rock aught-seven. But here's what I am getting to:
"Heck, if we got it up to a 50 percent collection rate, we could offer free massages on the buses,'' (Supervisor Jake) McGoldrick said.
Yuck. Please. Don't. Go. There.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
You Go Girl!
The other day, a friend with certain political involvements sent me an email that had the title "Why I Am Supporting Hillary Clinton for President in 2008". This email included my friend's personal thoughts on Clinton, and attached an email from a former White House staffer (high-ranking) that had the same subject and gave several reasons for this support. The final reason is "Fourth - and most personally - I like her". The writer, a woman, says:
I'm going to cut to the chase here and say it: This annoys the shit out of me. If Hillary wins the primary, or Obama implodes or Edwards explodes before then, then I am all for Hillary. Woo-hoo, Hillary. 'Til then, I am not looking for a new best girlfriend or even a new man to swoon over. I want a leader, not someone who can win just by calling in years of favors or by making promises of bipartisanship or local corn subsidies. I think Hillary is a great senator. She seems to be doing a good job, working on hard issues, understanding the nightmarish procedural mechanics of our second-least democratic institution. But she doesn't motivate me. And saying she'll be a great Girlfriend-in-Chief doesn't do anything for me. Oprah already has a strangehold on that position. I want a great President.
And who is going to buy this marketing pitch? I just don't want to be so cynical as to think that women are going to support Hillary just because she likes a good bag and cried during Steel Magnolias. Maybe I need to be that cynical. Maybe those women will go for Hillary because they can't decide if Edwards is cuter than Obama or vice versa, and know Hillary would totally understand how hard it is to choose between two cute guys.
Or is this the first pitch of Soft Hillary? Now that its okay to be anti-war, she can put on those beat-up slippers and sip General Foods International Coffee Viennese Chocolate Cafe' and talk about the spat between Rosie and The Donald like she doesn't have a care in the world.
I was even ready to not blame Hillary for this email. But the fact is, "her people" know it went out and the author is no doubt inner-inner circle. I can't blame them for trying, I just wish that it didn't pander so mercilessly to the idea of What Women Want. And I am very scared that this is indeed What Women Want.
Like so many of you who have supported me throughout my life or periods of it, she worries about me, about my family, tells me I'm working too hard, has me over to dinner, calls me just to check in, and enjoys some of the things I enjoy – from reading a great book to shopping for a great bag (like me she has a weakness for a good bag). We talk about our families and friends (okay, I'll say it – gossip about who's with whom and how's that possible among the folks we know). In short she is real. She is the girlfriend you want in your corner because she tells you when you were wrong, nd still loves you despite your frailties; she also relentlessly champions your successes like only your mother usually can do. She lights up a room with her laughter, she is incredibly warm and engaging – something some people only experience when they meet her personally (and then it's always enjoyable to listen to them say how different she is than from what they imagined or had read in the newspaper – that she really is warm and genuine and embracing).
I'm going to cut to the chase here and say it: This annoys the shit out of me. If Hillary wins the primary, or Obama implodes or Edwards explodes before then, then I am all for Hillary. Woo-hoo, Hillary. 'Til then, I am not looking for a new best girlfriend or even a new man to swoon over. I want a leader, not someone who can win just by calling in years of favors or by making promises of bipartisanship or local corn subsidies. I think Hillary is a great senator. She seems to be doing a good job, working on hard issues, understanding the nightmarish procedural mechanics of our second-least democratic institution. But she doesn't motivate me. And saying she'll be a great Girlfriend-in-Chief doesn't do anything for me. Oprah already has a strangehold on that position. I want a great President.
And who is going to buy this marketing pitch? I just don't want to be so cynical as to think that women are going to support Hillary just because she likes a good bag and cried during Steel Magnolias. Maybe I need to be that cynical. Maybe those women will go for Hillary because they can't decide if Edwards is cuter than Obama or vice versa, and know Hillary would totally understand how hard it is to choose between two cute guys.
Or is this the first pitch of Soft Hillary? Now that its okay to be anti-war, she can put on those beat-up slippers and sip General Foods International Coffee Viennese Chocolate Cafe' and talk about the spat between Rosie and The Donald like she doesn't have a care in the world.
I was even ready to not blame Hillary for this email. But the fact is, "her people" know it went out and the author is no doubt inner-inner circle. I can't blame them for trying, I just wish that it didn't pander so mercilessly to the idea of What Women Want. And I am very scared that this is indeed What Women Want.
Ignore This Post
This is for the two or three of you fellow Wire fans. The rest of you should check in later for a rant on a different topic.
First of all, David Mills has this interview with David Simon on his blog Undercover Black Man. I haven't read it yet but I will update after I read it.
Second, I've started watching season 1 again.
Third, here's my list of the five most annoying characters on the show.
1. Orlando
2. Ziggy Sobotka
3. Mrs. (Jenny?) Carcetti
4. The Johns Hopkins Professor, tied with the School District lady who hates on the season 4 corner kid project.
5. Officer Walker
I will now waste my whole day revisiting this list.
First of all, David Mills has this interview with David Simon on his blog Undercover Black Man. I haven't read it yet but I will update after I read it.
Second, I've started watching season 1 again.
Third, here's my list of the five most annoying characters on the show.
1. Orlando
2. Ziggy Sobotka
3. Mrs. (Jenny?) Carcetti
4. The Johns Hopkins Professor, tied with the School District lady who hates on the season 4 corner kid project.
5. Officer Walker
I will now waste my whole day revisiting this list.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Not Inexplicable Enough
There is lipstick on the cold water spigot on the water cooler in my office. The thing is low enough to the ground that you’d actually have to lie on your back to drink that way, but to each her, and let’s hope it’s a her, own.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Ok, I Can't Not Comment
The whole thing about Yale having 15 a capella groups suggests they might be sliipping in the World Domination department. And no, I'm not one of those University of Chicago people who didn't get into Yale.
Aside: I just saw a van with "Maui Mike's Lip Balm" painted on the side. What niche does this company fill? Isn't there lip balm brand saturation at this point?
Years of Good PR Work Undone By A Single Leprechaun
Every since I moved to Alabama in August 2003, I have tried to be an ambassador for the state, particularly since moving back to California a year later. I tell everyone: "The people are so nice, and the food was SO good, and I really loved it there, except for the fart smell from the paper factories. They do have Democrats, and liberals, too, if only people would get to know them!" How often have I said that? A hundred times? A thousand?
Now all my hard work is undone by a single leprechaun.
Damn you, Leprechaun of Mobile, damn you. Or is that you don't want to share the beautiful Heart of Dixie, so you bring shame to its residents?
Now all my hard work is undone by a single leprechaun.
Damn you, Leprechaun of Mobile, damn you. Or is that you don't want to share the beautiful Heart of Dixie, so you bring shame to its residents?
Aren't We All Guilty? Part Deux
I reprint from the SF Chronicle, without comment:
As Yale University students went back to school Tuesday after winter break, the usual conversations were overshadowed by reaction to an extraordinary event that happened 3,000 miles away: the beating in San Francisco of members of the Baker's Dozen, the school's renowned all-male a cappella singing group.
"People are shocked," said Wookie Kim, 20, a sophomore, outside the Yale Bookstore, where portraits of the university's famous alumnae look out over the floor. "I couldn't believe that anyone could do that to a Yale student."
…
[M]any Yale students said the beating was more than an act of violence against a student singing group. It was an assault on an essential element of the campus culture of this Ivy League school, whose 15 a cappella groups are often likened to Greek societies on other college campuses.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
The Making of a Ski Champ - Year One
Clearly, we need to regard as a victory getting Li into skis at all this year. And getting a smile, weird as that smile may be, as well.
He got on the skis on actual snow once. It was hellacute. Winter 2008 is the Year the Champ Ventures Forth, especially now that he knows ski school kids get lollipops.
Aren't We All Guilty?
The story of the Baker's Dozen beatdown is so obviously bloggable, I didn't bother. You could write it yourself. Specifically, Mr. Scobie could write it himself. I even offered to let him guestblog the damn story. But no. Instead, I have succumbed to intense lobbying to speak about this issue.
First, a recap. A second-string Yale a capella group got jumped by a group of "sons of prominent San Franciscans" after singing the national anthem at a party in SF. The word "homo" may have been used. Pretty girls may have been flirted with. What's not in dispute is that one guy got his jaw broke, and no assailants were identified to the SF police, and thus, no arrests were made.
Now the "Yale network" are beating the drum against the SFPD for failing to make any arrests. They claim that the assailants are too powerful and important in SF to be arrested. These are ELIS claiming that they are the powerless underdog here. Maybe they feel that way because they are in Baker's Dozen and not Whiffenpoofs. Maybe that makes them oppressed - I'm not sure. Anyway, Gavin Newsom and Heather Fong are scurrying like chipmunks to seem on top of the situation, even though it seems the Baker's Dozens guys couldn't ID their assailants. But its just the old "All St. Ignatius/Sacred Heart graduates look the same to me, officer" problem.
In our heart of hearts, we all know one thing: "It could have been me." And in this case, "It" is "I could have yelled derogatory comments and thrown a punch at an a capella rendition of the Ol' Stars and Bars after downing a few Pelositinis and groping the girl from my high school trig class who then flirted with a dude in a bowtie who THEN GOT UP TO SING WITH NO GUITAR." And by "me", I mean, "you and me and all of us."
First, a recap. A second-string Yale a capella group got jumped by a group of "sons of prominent San Franciscans" after singing the national anthem at a party in SF. The word "homo" may have been used. Pretty girls may have been flirted with. What's not in dispute is that one guy got his jaw broke, and no assailants were identified to the SF police, and thus, no arrests were made.
Now the "Yale network" are beating the drum against the SFPD for failing to make any arrests. They claim that the assailants are too powerful and important in SF to be arrested. These are ELIS claiming that they are the powerless underdog here. Maybe they feel that way because they are in Baker's Dozen and not Whiffenpoofs. Maybe that makes them oppressed - I'm not sure. Anyway, Gavin Newsom and Heather Fong are scurrying like chipmunks to seem on top of the situation, even though it seems the Baker's Dozens guys couldn't ID their assailants. But its just the old "All St. Ignatius/Sacred Heart graduates look the same to me, officer" problem.
In our heart of hearts, we all know one thing: "It could have been me." And in this case, "It" is "I could have yelled derogatory comments and thrown a punch at an a capella rendition of the Ol' Stars and Bars after downing a few Pelositinis and groping the girl from my high school trig class who then flirted with a dude in a bowtie who THEN GOT UP TO SING WITH NO GUITAR." And by "me", I mean, "you and me and all of us."
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