i mean to say pocket sized, of course.

there are three choices for power at this bux: two corner tables and the comfy chair section. of the three, only one was available when i came in: Sunshine Corner. pelted by sunshine, this is the least favorable power location. the comfy chair grouping has two nearby outlets, but both are made inaccessible by the placement of the sugar station. brilliant! Shade Corner is taken by a guy called pat who is studying a printed book and writing with a pen on paper. he is in the most favorable of all the power locations, but the power is irrelevant to his endeavor.

i am exiled to Sunshine Corner because my devices are hungry. so as not to be caught this way again - so as to have more freedom of location - i am going to start carrying around an extension cord. then, i can still plug in when outlets are at a distance. i'll get me one of those big orange cords on a reel and just reel it out across the floor. "scuse me, folks. scuse me. power coming through. scuse me."

we are four.

it has been a long day.
i am tired.
feet and legs and back tired from walking.
brain tired from talking.
it has been a long day, that is true.
but what better way
to spend a long day,
than to spend a long day
with you.

file under "e" for "eedyot"

the other day i was out to the publix purchasing produce and upon completion of the purchasing portion of the adventure, whilst i was checking out, i noticed the bagger wasn't using my bags. "why aren't you using my bags?" [*crickets*] "i brought bags." [*blank stares*] "you gave my bags to that lady in front of me, didn't you?" [*blushing. guilt. looking away.*] and he was like, do you want to get another bag or two, just get a couple and they'll be free? "no, that's okay, they were old bags." and he was all, are you sure? "yes, sure."

what the hell was i doing?

i had four bags with me. that's $4. "no, that's okay. i will just give that stranger lady in front of me $4. here, lady, here's $4. it's a gift from me."

what? the? hell??

i am going to email publix right now and tell them what happened. maybe they will pity my imbecility and send me $4.

* sigh *

seven twenty-eight eleven

always and forever, there was the idea of beavis and there with the idea of beavis was beavis, and this i saw and it was good, and so i saideth unto elvis: lo, ye and the wife of your espousal shall beget unto thee both in part of thy part, a boychild, and he shall be called beavis. and so it was, and all the world saw that it was good.

always and forever, there was the idea of regina and there with the idea of regina was regina, and this i saw and it was good, and so i saideth unto elvis: lo, ye and the wife of your espousal shall beget unto thee both in part of thy part, a girlchild, and she shall be called regina. and so it was, and all the world saw that it was good.

and nowst are all the world herewith into the time of wondering wandering, and so there is the question: lo, what of elvis and the wife of his espousal, what of their begetting, has it begotten gone? and i come to you with knowledge, foresooth of pondering, and i sayeth unto you that always and forever, there was the idea of... of...

[*tap* *tap*]

of...

[*static*]

[*click* *click*]

...okay, all i am getting here is indeterminate sexuality and a "ch" sound, so i'm going with a hermaphrodite named chimichanga.

YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST.

frozen yogurt would be good right about now.

i heard this story on npr about how folks are following their gps devices into death valley, getting misguided, wandering about, and in the tragic case of one 8-year-old boy who went camping with his mum, dying. so, i was all set to compose a rant about how we're too dependent on technology and we need to get back in touch with the real world, but the netbook battery was konked so i couldn't do it.

[*crickets*]

anyhoo, this woman and her boy. what the hell is she doing taking a child alone into the wilderness? sure, yes, she could have a boatload of experience, but c'mon, do people with boatloads of experience head into the wilderness armed with only an electronic directional locator? no. no, they do not. they carry a good old fashioned map and compass. not to say your arm won't get trapped under a fallen rock and 27 hours later you'll have amputated it to survive, but still. map and compass. and, flare gun.

we've all been duped by the disneylandification of every hard and real experience. we imagine butterflies and rainbows and happy endings. or, worse than merely imagining, we expect them with sturdy expectation, in the same way we expect the sun to rise each morning. so we do something risky like take an 8-year-old camping in the wilderness, and it doesn't even register as a risk.

this npr story had all these interviews where these dopes would explain how, "it looked like a dirt track or really like nothing was there at all, but the gps said to turn left, so i turned left." C'MON PEOPLE USE YOUR NOGGINS. does the gps have eyes? can it see that 'road' it just pointed you down is less than a tow path? no. no, it cannot. you are the one with the eyes. use them! gather input, process it in your brain, formulate a solution. could it be... the gps is wrong?


the sherriff used his noggin and checked all the maps that the gps's were using and i know you can fill in the punchline here. yes, the maps were woefully outdated. like, gold rush days outdated. that's right, the maps being used to feed into your pretty little modern-day toy were created before the invention of electricity, by some gold-seeking goombah with three teeth and a mule named sally.

each time someone takes one of these 'roads' and the coordinates are flashed back to the satellite, and the gps system validates it. This Is A Road, says gps, and there you all go toddling down it, unwittingly leading each other astray.

so the sherriff took the maps and his expertise and went to tom-tom, and the tom-tom folks fixed their maps. now he is working with google earth and navteq, and if those two companies know what is good for them, they will get on board before someone else dies of idiocy because you don't need a map to find that lawsuit.

channelling my inner 14 year old

i rushed home, stopping only at starbux for a grande bold and a sandwich. at home, i quickly ate the sandwich, took my advair, and brushed my teeth. then i turned to the task of packing, first removing my lunch dishes and gym clothes from my backpack, depositing dishes in the sink and dirty clothes in the hamper. into the pack went hp5, my netbook and power cord, some lemonade, paper to write my cabinmate a letter, and a jacket in case it was cold. after i had all this inside, i lugged the pack onto my back, grabbed my grande bold, and set off across the yard to the house next door.

tonight, i am babysitting.

back in the day, i did a lot of sitting. what else did i have to do? the house immediately to the left and immediately to the right had two boy children, each, so i didn't sit much at either of those because the boys prefered the crown prince if he were available. boys. sheesh. the rest of the neighborhood was mine, though, including the house down on the main drag where the preacher and his wife lived with their two kids. the little boy had had open heart surgery - more than once, i think - as an infant so he had a scarred up chest. he also had a funny-shaped head, but i am not sure that was related to the heart condition. his pops had a pretty funny-shaped head of his own, so it was likely genetic.

i always thought those people had the wackest snacks. after the kids go to bed, babysitting is really about the snacks, right? they had really good bryers vanilla bean ice cream and they also had natural peanut butter. if distinctly remember eating those things together, but i am not sure that actually happened. if it did happen, that explains why i thought their snacks were wack.

this house, tonight, has peaches and watermelons. at least, those are the items which were offered to me. i took inventory, though, so i know it also has oatmeal creme pies and a selection of reese's peanut butter cups. however, "sigh", snacking isn't what it used to be, now that i fully understand the connexion between the reese's and my hindquarters.

this house also has a video monitor aimed at the baby, who was already asleep when i arrived. it's entirely possible - nay, highly likely - i will emerge from this sitting job not having even gone in the same room as, much less touched, the baby. his mom said don't hesitate to call if he starts fussing. i was like, hey... please... i've got this. i mean, if i can't sit here in a comfortable chair, glancing at a video baby-monitor, using the free wireless, sipping starbux, and eating purloined creme pies... well, if i can't do that, then i have no business calling myself a babysitter at all, now, do i?

FWB

saturday night we went to see 'friends with benefits' which, if you set aside the completely predictable plot, is a very good movie. much of the writing is hilariously funny, with a plethora of unique phrases scattered throughout. i'll just say "strickally-dickally" for now, and you go see the movie and tell me that doesn't Crack You Up. dialog that isn't completely fall-out-of-your-seat hilarious hits fairly close to the reality bullseye.

justin timberlake and mila kunis are the leads, but the supporting cast is littered with stars -- patricia clarkson, jenna elfman, woody harrelson, richard jenkins, andy samberg. i thought andy samberg was that guy from the facebook movie. ha! shaun white as himself is exceptional, completely mad, a lunatic. jason segel and rashida jones star in a movie-within-the-movie that just piles on the guffaws. (okay, that sounds stupid, but i was tired of saying hilarious! hilarious! hilarious! oh, go jump off a thesaurus, why don't ya?!)

there's another movie with a similar plot - 'no strings attached'. NSA was originally called 'friends with benefits' but even though it came out first, the producers renamed it. NSA came out in january of 2011 and FWB came out in july. NSA stars natalie portman and FWB stars mila kunis and both were in 'black swan' and although i have not see BS, i know enough about it to know that mila in FWB definitely black-swanned natalie's NSA.

books 2011

currently:
hp5
[jk rowling]

complete:
hp4
[jk rowling]
hp3
[jk rowling]
hp2
[jk rowling]
hp1
[jk rowling]
the yiddish policemen's union
[michael chabon]
american gods
[neil gaiman]
land of a hundred wonders
[lesley kagen]
swim to me
[betsy carter]
princess academy
[shannon hale]
the angels game
[carlos ruiz zafon]
they almost always come home
[christina ruchti]
lifeguard training manual
[red cross]
the broker
[john grisham]
queste
[angie sage]
the things we do for love
[kristin hannah]
physik
[angie sage]

back to black

amy winehouse died today, presumably of a drug overdose but if not that, then presumably of some other violent or unsavory or criminal or accidental end. most likely not "natural causes" as she was only 27 years old and notoriously self-destructive. the tragedy of her death is small in the scope of the fate of the universe, but if you have ever heard her sing [and i don't mean the stumbling, slurring amy you see in most internet videos - i mean the real talent] then you know that we are poorer today for her having gone.

fame and excess appear to go hand in hand, but of course, the truth is that excess and abuse surround us - the fame just puts a spotlight on the behaviour. folks like robert downey, jr., john daly, amy winehouse, marilyn monroe, judy garland, the list goes on. they are the famously indulgent and i feel for them, cheer their successes, got their backs. i mourn their failures. i came here today to explain to you why it's important to me, but decided it's none of your damn business.



may you rest in peace, amy. you surely didn't live that way.

just a couple pictures you probably cannot even see because they are probably too small.

three ways to make easy money. hahaha! i don't know. strikes ME as funny. i can think of plenty of ways to make easy money but none of them are legal and miss pretty-in-pink does not look the type to participate in nefarious schemes. but, it's always the quiet ones, isn't it now? yes. yes, it is.

---

this headline tells us that the astronaut corps has shrunk by more than half! well-trained men & women seek jobs elsewhere! omg! alert the media! we are mysteriously hemorraging astronauts! uh. hullo. the space shuttle program ended and flying to the moon has been privatised. hmm...

---

"easing into raw." *snerk*

cooking class: how to cook raw food. smack it on a plate, the end.

hahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hey, if you don't want to laugh, fine! just be that way.

easing into raw.... hilarious.

---

TROLL CAUGHT FISH. ALWAYS FUNNY.

not sure at this point that i will be able to find a satisfactory replacement watchband. might have to get a whole new watch.

in another place at another time, another person made a statement about email being his memory bank and i was going to explain over there how i do the same thing but blogger was being a butt about cookies and logins and suchforth.

anyway, memory banks. firstly, there is just so much to remember these days. okay, boo hoo, i know - life's really rough in the modern world, but c'mon. i mean, i am not comparing my life to that of a child in a third world country. i am saying that here in this life that i am living, to participate in the world of which i am a part, a large memory bank is required. it's simpler to use available electronic means than to employ a series of mnemonics. for example, i don't know how to spell "mnemonics" but i know it starts with "mn" and ends in "ic" so i just now typed "mneonics" into google and i was pretty damn close, eh? who needs to remember spellings, when you can just type something close into google and get a "did you mean"?

i carry pen & paper with me all the time at work because someone's always stopping me in the halls and telling me something they need my help with, need me to follow up on, need me to birddog for them. i can't remember it all. i am lucky if i can even remember that someone stopped me and asked me for something, and bonus lucky if i can remember who it was, and double bonus lucky if i can remember what they wanted, too.

i know people who are too proud to carry pen & paper because they think it's a sign of weakness. they are just sure they can remember everything but inevitably they are wrong. i don't see any shame in writing stuff down, or asking someone to send me an email if they want me to do something. they are motivated to remember what they want long enough to get back to their desk and email me. i have no motivation to remember their crisis.

email's so much easier to search, of course. results are returned with alacrity and accuracy. a human brain cannot really compete with that. and, why should it? we've got the tools, why not use them?

of course, we don't always have those tools in every situation, so sometimes we do rely on the ol' grey matter. if you're lucky, you have additional grey matters of which to make use. you are probably sharing lots of peoples's brainspace and letting them share yours.

i share a memory bank with my old man. and, i don't mean we have "shared memories" although of course we do. i mean, we share memory space. i remember birthdays, some folks's names, where we keep the spare set of sheets. he remembers schedules, some other folks's names, how to make smoothies. we share space. very efficient.

balloon:seahorse::black:white

heard a teaser for a news story about a proposal to put fat kids in foster care. no, i don't know the full story. i just heard the TEASER. duh. try to pay attention.

so, fat kids in foster care. the assumption here is that they are being abused or, if that sounds too harsh, then let's say "not well cared for" in their home of origin. the assumption is that their fatness is a result of the environment and systems in which they exist.

my immediate thought was - good god, no! there is no way that The State should be raising children. yikes! that is just a bad path to turn down. that's the path in the woods at night, with the snake and the skunk on it. it's dark, it's dangerous, and it smells bad.

children should not be placed in systematized, state-based care simply because their current home life is contributing to their obesity. sort of begs the question, in what case SHOULD they be placed in foster care, eh? contributing to the obesity of a minor is a form of abuse. it's not the same as hitting a child, but if you were to pick things apart, you'd be hard pressed to say it's less damaging.

so, here i am mentally taking a stand against separating fat kids from their enablers while also mentally accepting that kids who are being hit should be separated from the ones who do the hitting.

pluswise, read down there a few days back what i said about home care for a severly disabled young man. i am taking a stand there that the disabled guy should be institutionalized. how does that mesh with my stance on the fat kids? well, clearly i am a raging hypocrit who picks and chooses a stance to fit the moment.

or, NOT.

fat kids are a product of their environment, a symptom of a broken system. the disabled young man from a few days ago is a product of his genetics.

OKAY. i know. it's not that clear cut. but seriously, calm the fck down and pay attention to the argument, okay? okay.

if the solution to fat kids being fat is to place them in foster care, then the obviously the reason they're fat is that they are where they are. if the proposal is to fix the problem by changing the environment, then that's an admission that the environment is the problem. the difference with the disabled guy is that the problem isn't the environment. his home is not contributing to his disability. so, there's the argument for leaving the disabled guy at home and moving the fat kids to foster care.

OR, is it?

in the case of the disabled guy, money is being wasted in the current system and care could better be provided institutionally, and -- and this is key -- there's nothing society will gain with that guy being kept at home. there's nothing for his mom to learn. there's no reason to put our money into his being at home, other than we feel for his mom and her need to have him home. with the fat kids, we as a society do gain if they stay at home and time, money, attention are put towards fixing the things about their homes that have caused their obesity. opportunity to eat fresh, nutritious food and to exercise - these things will fight obesity and strengthen the community as a whole.

pluswise (this is where it gets harsh), these kids have potential. the disabled guy does not have potential. we as a society cannot afford to pay for every wonderful thing. we have to make choices and those choices are more like snarling pit bulls than cuddly labrador puppies - they aren't especially fun or comforting.

it's a given we cannot do everything, and it's an oversimplification to say that the situations i've presented (rather poorly) here are a true dichotomy. however - what say ye? would you put the fat fatties in foster care? would they be better off there? would society be better of with them there?

even the most banal (heh) post takes 30 minutes, most take an hour or more.

so, as i was saying.

the thing about making a commitment to writing every day is that you have to write every day. good or bad. coal or diamond. blather or insight. every day. you say you will do it, so you do it - the very definition of commitment.

daily writing becomes not so much about what is written as it is about the act of writing. as with anything done daily, some days are better than others. some days it's process, rote, a list of books read, an article repurposed from wikipedia. some days it's eager anticipation, being forced to wait all through the working day, bursting with thoughts or news, something funny, sad, interesting, that i just can't wait to tell you.

tell you. YOU. you? if i were writing for me, i would open a document on the desktop and save it back. this is a public document in a public place. the practice of daily writing is for me. the output is for you. there's a line there somewhere, where the practice is for you and the output is for me. but, it's not the output that i want to keep and it's not the practice that i want to share. so, stay on your side of the line!

i know me. i know my chemistry and my history and i know that if i were to give myself a pass and say that i'm no longer blogging daily, just blogging when i feel like it or when i have something to say... well, i know what would happen. a day would become a week a month a season a year - time turning into never. giving myself a pass would spell the end. i don't want it to end. i am proud of what i have built here. or, not built so much as grown. i want to keep it alive. i want to do the daily tasks that are necessary to nurture it - i want to feed it, water it, take it for a walk, give it treats, teach it to fetch and heel and beg and shake hands. ah, now there's a juicy pile of metaphors.

this isn't a popular blog. it has no focus, no platform, no objective, no attraction. the only purpose is to provide a place for me to write something every day, and a place for you to read something every day. okay, except those two weeks i was at brigadoon, which you've got to admit are excusable, and yesterday when i took a pass. it was yesterday's pass that really made me think. yesterday's pass, wondering if anyone would even notice, slipping dangerously into needing you to be there, and poof, someone IS there reading and there commenting and there (apparently) liking a post on facebook.

huh.

i don't know why you are here, why you came, why you stay. most of you, i don't have an inkling of a spark of a thought of an idea of who you are, where you are, why you are.

but, i appreciate the company.

if you get a chance to see a band called 7 bridges, do it.

7 bridges is an eagles tribute band. they're good, so if you get a chance to go see them you should. if you get a chance to share some pizza with friends then go to the park and sit outside to listen to 7 bridges, well... that's even better.

hey, look. i did have something to say after all.

i wasn't going to write anything today. no reason, other than i just don't have anything to say. (when did that ever stop you, ace?) (shut up, you!) i sat down here anyway, to write anything or to write nothing to you. here goes.

so i try to blog every day, try to keep up that habit, even when the going is rough, nothing to say, copying down wikipedia entries about estonia. begs the question - when is a habit good and when is it detrimental? daily blogging, writing something every day, in and of itself doesn't sound bad. not like, say, smoking. doing something with your mind each day, stretching or challenging the ol' grey matter, or even just simply using it for something other than a television sponge - that's good, right? inherently good, i mean. thus, insofar as daily blogging uses the brain, daily blogging is good.

but what if i dread it? is that good? is it good to do something i don't enjoy or that hangs over my head, like that cloud that follows little charlie brown around, raining on me, boo hoo. well, it's good to eat broccoli, even if you don't enjoy it. good for your body. right?

something you don't enjoy can be good for your body. eating a food that you don't like the taste of doesn't make the food any less nutritious. exercising even if you don't enjoy exercising will still afford some benefit to your muscles and your cardiovascular system and your nerves and all. but, will doing a mental exercise you don't enjoy benefit your mind?

if you don't enjoy math, and you do it anyway, learn it, master some skills, maybe even achieve a certain level of proficiency, is that good? i'd say a healthy body is inherently good so doing things to maintain body health is good, even if you don't like those things. but, mental health isn't gained merely through exercising your mind. mental health is more complicated and enjoyment of what you're doing plays a part. contentment is a component of mental health.

isn't it?

eesti vabariik

this & that, various & sundry, one thing & another led me to a mild curiousity about the land of estonia which i googled, thereby landing in (duh) wikipedia where i have learned quite a bit about the fascinating and quiet little land of estonia.

the country is in northern europe, between finland and russia. it borders latvia and russia, and finland lies to the west across the baltic sea, on which estonia has over 2000 miles of coastland. estonia is in the temperate climate zone, but it's northward in that zone, and the temps there are on the cool side. july is the warmest month, when the average temps are right around 64º, and in february the temps are the coldest, around 18º. in the summer, it's a bit cooler on the coast, and in the winter, it's a bit warmer on the coast. the overall average year-round temp in estonia is 41º. (all temps fahrenheit)


estonia maintains a democratic government with representatives from each of the the 15 counties which comprise the state. these administrative subdivisions were first chronicled in the 13th century. 13th century! the tiny republic is known for high tolerance, respect of human rights, free speech, individual development, and privacy. in estonia, citizens can vote for public officials on the internet! the prime minister is called andrus ansip, and he is the longest tenured prime minister in europe.

estonia was formerly a part of the USSR, but most international authorities agree that estonia didn't want to go - russia took her. in 1918 she regained her freedom, but estonia's main trading partner remained the soviet union and later, former soviet states, but now sweden and finland are the biggest importers of estonian goods. estonia has a flat-rate income tax and a non-welfare-state model.

whew. the wikipedia article just goes on and on. maybe it's estonian propaganda, but man, it sounds like a great place to live. i mean, duh, you have to like snow, but otherwise, its people are forward-looking, innovative, and industrious. the public debt is negligible, the air is clean, the land is fertile, and the babies are fat.

there is just so much to learn about the world.

i am busy shopping for pants. leave me alone.

this is what i have to say to you today: " ".

that's right, nothing. what's that? i always have nothing to say? oh, is that so. well, why'n't you come over here and say that to my FACE? huh? yeah, that's what i thought you scaredychickenbaby. nyah-nyah! scaredychickenbaby!

hey, speaking of chickens, i know two different people who live in completely different places and whom i know through completely different connections - who are both raising chickens. how wild is THAT! i know, right? sha! one is a girl and she lives on a farm, and one is a boy who lives out in the country, but not exactly on a farm, per se.

speaking of farms, i keep meaning to go to the farmers market here in town, and what kind of dolt cannot remember to purchase fresh food in a convenient location? yeah, that would be me. i considered joining one of those CSA things, but i am terribly concerned that they'd provide a bushel of bok choy for me and my old man, and he doesn't eat bok choy, so i'd be having to eat it all myself and i'd get all gassy. that's right - CSAs lead to farting. it's a very dangerous world, so pay attention and always look both ways.

see? nothing.

can't say i didn't warn ya, though, can ya now? no, you cannot.

frank, here at starbux, has gotten himself a frozen mango frappaccino. frank is wearing a bluetooth device like a jewel in his ear. frank. heh.

when i get just a little bit of money, i'd like to have...

a new iphone. the $50 3GS iphone will do nicely. compared to my current iphone, that one is blindingly faster and, most importantly, better at running hanging with friends.

wait. you thought i was going to spend my little bit of money on a goat that would support an entire family in a third world country? ppfahahaha!! you silly.


i would also like to have a couple pair of pants to wear to work. not long pants, mind you. oh, no, no, no. freakishly mismatched leg lengths don't get to wear long pants. capris will do. back in the day, for a fleeting moment, denim gauchos were in style. i was in grade school and i got a pair of denim gauchos with rainbow stitching on the pockets. those pants were the bomb. i was looking for a pic of the gauchos so you could see, and i found this pic instead. remember those little people? they are the bomb, too. they don't even wear pants. they are little pantsless bombadiers of playtime.


speaking of things i need, one thing i really need is a new watchband. yes, i said need. NEED IT! third-world-family:goat::me:watchband. the velcro on my current one is worn out because i wear that mystery answer watch all the freaking time. watch? time? ppfahahaha! me funny.

i heard the news today

there's this guy, i think he's about 35 or so, lives in a town not far from here. he's disabled, suffers up to 300 seizures every month. he lives with his mother and his 24/7 care is provided by two attendants at all times. that's 2/24/7. the care is paid for by tax dollars, thru a state program. his mother says the thought of her son in an institution is her worst nightmare. i am not sure i'd go so far as to call it a nightmare, i will say i'm not happy paying for what seems excessive. if you can't afford to provide the care for your loved one, the state will provide institutionalized care. what's wrong with providing solid care in a system that allows for economies of scale? yeah, institutional care gets a bad rap but i'd prefer to invest there as opposed to what must be thousands (more?) of individual pockets of care.

thoughts?

books 2011

currently:
hp4
[jk rowling]

complete:
hp3
[jk rowling]
hp2
[jk rowling]
hp1
[jk rowling]
the yiddish policemen's union
[michael chabon]
american gods
[neil gaiman]
land of a hundred wonders
[lesley kagen]
swim to me
[betsy carter]
princess academy
[shannon hale]
the angels game
[carlos ruiz zafon]
they almost always come home
[christina ruchti]
lifeguard training manual
[red cross]
the broker
[john grisham]
queste
[angie sage]
the things we do for love
[kristin hannah]
physik
[angie sage]

i heard the news today

a man took his son to a baseball game and fell out of the stands trying to catch a foul ball and hit his head and died.