Thursday, August 28
This morning, the evil alarm clock almost made me cry.
I would have made it to work on time if I hadn’t gotten motion sickness from the train.
Admittedly, I wouldn’t have gotten motion sickness from the train if I hadn’t been so bad . . . .
The lovely Kate and I went out last evening and we had as lovely, giddy, and thoughtful a time as we ever do. We started at the Uncommon Ground Café. While waiting for the Brad Peterson Variety Show to start [note, his site's down right now, I think he's updating it] we each had a manhattan. Then we each had another. After some goat cheese and artichoke dip, it was Kate’s idea that we should switch to extra-sour lemon drop martinis, and we had a few of those each.
In the interim, I did see part of Brad’s set. I hadn’t seen him in years, and was pleasantly surprised to find his voice as intriguing as ever. After the second round of extra-sour lemon drop martinis, the set was over. I did chat with Brad for a bit, and I’m sure I’ll catch up with him further later.
Anyway, against all sane thoughts, after we closed the café, Kate and I decided that we might have one more. So, we went to Katerina’s where we had a few really tasty godiva chocolate martinis each.
I do not know what time I made it home. I know I made a phone call [one of my clearer memories from the evening, sitting outside the bar on a stoop] while Katerina was mixing up the first round. That would be a good point of reference had I been using my phone instead of Kate’s and been able to lookup the time.
Even if I do not know the time, I am painfully aware of the condition I was in. I told the taxi driver not to take the turns so quickly. He laughed at that. I know that the steps to my fourth-floor apartment swayed. I also know that throughout my disrobing and technicolor yawn issues, I managed make no more of a mess than I would on any other Thursday evening.
Today, amazingly, I plowed through the whole day at work, keeping my record of never calling in sick or leaving sick because of a hangover.
But . . . . this evening’s plans have been altered. I shan’t make it to shows at the Chicago Underground Film Festival. I shall lounge, take a bubble bath, read, troll the ‘net, drink a small medicinal glass of red wine, and maybe, later, post again.
Tuesday, August 26
I saw a pop-up ad, and I couldn't believe . . . . but it's true. I'm having my place swept for surveilance equipment. Regularly. My aversion to cameras has blossomed into a kind of photo/video/image-specific scoptophobia [help me here if there's a better word]. Ugh. I'm gonna have nightmares for weeks.
I smile a lot. I constantly play with my hair. I pay compliments frequently. I wonder and ask about what people like to do. I initiate conversations. I am easily amused and laugh at many jokes. According to this piece, I am constantly flirting with everyone.
Since some of the above signals could just be gestures of friendliness on a woman's part, you should count a minimum of four before you conclude that she is, indeed, flirting with you. If she commits five or more, your evening is set.Please be advised that this may not be the case.
In the mid-'90s, I remember seeing Wesley Willis sitting at Lounge Axe, barefoot, drawing these huge pen-pencil-magic marker cityscapes. Before and later, I remember him seeing me on the street, grabbing the back of my head and saying, "lemme head butt ya". And I did. Everyone did.
[I hadn't thought about him for years until Mark Noble sent me this link. Thanks Mark.]
You can read more about Wesley at Alternative Tentacles.
Sunday, August 24
Who among us will live for centuries? I, for one, am willing to attempt to add a glass of red wine to my daily diet in lieu of the amount of calories it contains from other foods I'm eating but likely shouldn't be eating anyway. As a matter of fact, I think I'll do that right now . . . .
I am apparently woefully behind on this. Check out this post at Waxy:
- 1 smoot = 5.58333333 feet
- (30 gigabytes) / (160 kbps) = 18.2044444 days
- 1 yottaParsec = 3.08568025 × 1064 yoctometers
- the speed of light = 582 749 918 knots
Ugh. I have other things to do but I caaaannoooot stop.
This may be the most useful thing I've seen in weeks.
Some of the Answers:
- 69 degrees Fahrenheit = 20.5555556 degrees Celsius
- radius of Earth = 6 378.1 kilometers
- the answer to life, the universe, and everything = 42
- 1 000 000 000 miles = 5.2155242 × 10-05 Parsecs
- seventeen plus (thirteen times three) = fifty-six
- one US gallon = 768 US teaspoons
Saturday, August 23
Accordingly, if you care, this article may interest you. Noted:
Introverts are not necessarily shy. Shy people are anxious or frightened or self-excoriating in social settings; introverts generally are not . . . . many actors, I've read, are introverts, and many introverts, when socializing, feel like actors . . . . We tend to think before talking, whereas extroverts tend to think by talking.Actually, the more stressed I become, the more extroverted my behavior. I have been a bit stressed lately. [I should be apologizing to many about my being a whining, bitching princess, and I may just get around to that.] It's time to regroup. I think a trip to Sephora may help. The shipment from Komenuka Bijin certainly did.
Thursday, August 21
Additions to the most recent edition of the Oxford Dictionary of English [not to be confused with the Oxford English Dictionary, although they have the same publisher] include:
- bada bing bada boom
I had another odd dream last night. The same lover, the same urgent want to talk about snow, this time we were in a vague hot outdoor environment.
What does the snow mean? What do these dreams indicate?
I do not know . . . . .
I rarely remember my dreams. And, when I do, I tend to consider them, if only briefly. But, if some image or plotline appears more than once, I begin wondering whether my subconscious is trying to reveal something.
I begin wondering whether God is answering my questions and I am too obtuse to understand the answers.
Is someone trying to communicate something to me that I’m missing entirely? Have I changed the subject or the atmosphere so violently that such communication was impossible?
Is this actually about snow, and my general preference for cold over hot weather?
Am I then associating that lover with a general preference in the weather continuum?
I do not know . . . . .
Enough for now. Back to work. Time to get a burrito.
Wednesday, August 20
There are things would like to do but never seem to get around to doing. Actually, there are thousands of things. Here are the ones that crossed my mind today:
- sort through all the paperwork that [mostly, I'm sure, unnecessarily] moved with me
- study Huna
- update the right column of this blog
- thoroughly read up on the continuing Texas gerrymandering debacle, and the intentions in Ohio to try the same thing
From the NY Times article on Texas:
Justice Department officials have issued a report documenting an attempt by Mr. DeLay, the House majority leader, to abuse the machinery of homeland security by using it to track and arrest the Democrats. They wisely rejected demands from Mr. DeLay's aides for rawly partisan muscle from Washington as "wacko," but that does not make the efforts of the staff less outrageous.
[for NY Times articles you may use ID=bulleproofbra and password=crystal]
- go to Burning Man
- organize my recipes
- study Kaballah
Tuesday, August 19
And exhausted . . . . it might be because of the events of the day, it might be because my terrifically poor diet of late, it might be because I keep forgetting to take my vitamins, it might be because I slept fitfully last night [truly bizzzzzzzzzare dreams of being in Hawaii over Christmas with a lover who wanted to talk about snow]. Regardless, I shan't say that my exhaustion is in any way related to the shoes I chose to wear on such a hectic day.
Anyway, there are things I'd like to comment upon thoroughly, but I'm too tired and lazy. So it shall be short blips for now:
- It's really been a wormy week.
- Mars will not kill you.
- Lake Vostok might kill all of us with some super-oxygenated mutant microbes. If not, we'll likely kill it.
- When I thought of shopping for a bikini I wasn't thinking of this, but must admit it is interesting.
- When prompted to consider GQ magazine, I can't ever say that I was frightened. . . . until now.
- From Lessig: Public Knowledge, Creative Commons, and The Center for the Public Domain have launched a call for stories about the public domain.
Your stories are important because American copyright, trademark and patent law, grounded in Article I of the Constitution, are designed to promote individual creativity and innovation: we need to make sure they're functioning in this way.
Unfortunately, the recent expansion of intellectual property laws has had the opposite effect. New laws are discouraging creativity and innovation rather than encouraging it, and stifling other important values such as freedom of speech. Longer copyright terms, the end of copyright registration requirements, stronger trademark laws and the expansion of patent eligibility are some of the changes that have spurred this trend.
- Because I no longer have enough toilet paper to play the Toilet Roll Game I know it is time to shop for more.
Although I realize that lawyers serve in more complicated and difficult ways for many, I tend to require them as tour guides through the red tape of the system. Lucky, I guess. Today's tour guide was more than sufficient for the task.
My name has been changed. I am now Crystal She-who-must-be-worshiped.
Okay, that's not true, but it would have been fun wouldn't it? [Think: "She-who-must-be-worshiped, party of four, your table is ready!"] I've actually gone back to my maiden surname. And I've changed my middle name to Joseph. I think it may be a while before I could sign my name without thinking about it. Actually, I signed my name wrong today twice. Those who had to reprint were patient, but it was weird. And I had to concentrate. Don't ask me to do it tipsy.
Sunday, August 17
Would you like to go into a 5-to-6 hour carb coma? Here's how:
- Have a light dinner followed by pie.
- Relax for a bit, and then have more pie.
- Sleep. Awaken. Have a light breakfast. Relax a bit, and then have more pie.
- Lie down for a few minutes.
- Awaken a bit later feeling (a) famished, and (b) like you've been hit by a truck.
- Realize that you have no low-carb options in the house, and, lazily, eat more pie.
- Lie down to read.
- Awaken 5-to-6 hours later feeling (a) famished, and (b) like you've been hit by a truck.
I know better. I can't handle a carb overload like that anymore. It's back to the low-carb thing for me for a while. Soooooo . . . . my first task upon waking was to order food that wouldn't exacerbate the issue. Task number two was adding a lot of protein and editing out all the really-carby crap [you can sort by carbs!] for my next Peapod order.
Saturday, August 16
I saw this article yesterday, and was thinking thinking thinking [while I was at the office and should have been working working working].
Sherman Austin is being incarcerated because it has been determined that Raise The Fist violates this federal law [specifically subsection P, 2]:
Prohibition. -I was reminded of Your Own You Own from Pigface's Notes From Thee Underground [which I spent an inordinate amount of time not finding last night].
It shall be unlawful for any person -
(A)to teach or demonstrate the making or use of an explosive, a destructive device, or a weapon of mass destruction, or to distribute by any means information pertaining to, in whole or in part, the manufacture or use of an explosive, destructive device, or weapon of mass destruction, with the intent that the teaching, demonstration, or information be used for, or in furtherance of, an activity that constitutes a Federal crime of violence; or(B)to teach or demonstrate to any person the making or use of an explosive, a destructive device, or a weapon of mass destruction, or to distribute to any person, by any means, information pertaining to, in whole or in part, the manufacture or use of an explosive, destructive device, or weapon of mass destruction, knowing that such person intends to use the teaching, demonstration, or information for, or in furtherance of, an activity that constitutes a Federal crime of violence
Your Own You Own
for 23 years we've told you to beware
to be aware
your freedoms are being eroded [x2]
your needs blocked [x2]
your freedoms are being eroded
your needs blocked
your sexuality legislated
your dreams your right to dreams, stolen [stolen! stolen! stolen! stolen!]
you are being criminalized
you are being reposesed
your being digitized for ease ov location
your breath thee breath ov youth is being polluted [provication! [x4]]
your own you own
your very own
your own you own
your brains are being polluted, poisoned, and fragmented by fear
not your fear [x3]
your own you own [x10]
you only run free
as ov this day
you do not have the right to socialize
your own you own [i lost count, i'd say 30]
or criticise, or analyse, or fantasise, or politicise, or publisice
or subsidise, or visualise, or conceptualise, or realise anything!
Even though I had that encircled-A adorning my stuff in highschool, I was not then nor am I now an anarchist. However, I do believe that there are times when dissent must escalate. We are losing our rights. I am frightened and disturbed.
I'm out of practice when it comes to pie making . . . .
- The fluting on the crusts isn't very attractive. Actually, I can't remember how I used to flute crusts so prettily.
- The custard isn't as firm as it should be. That may be because after standing over the bubbling cauldron and stirring for forty-five minutes in last night's heat-n-humdidty I hallucinated that it was thick enough.
- There are also dark edges on two of the pie crusts [I made three pies] owing, I think, to a very inconsistent oven.
Thursday, August 14
Naturally the common people don’t want war, but after all, it is the leaders of a country who determine the policy, and it is always a simple matter to drag people along whether it is a democracy, or a fascist dictatorship, or a parliament, or a communist dictatorship. Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of their leaders. This is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in every country.[Found in Ms. Magazine's Summer 2003 print edition.]
Hermann Goering, Hitler’s Reich-Marshall
at the Nuremberg Trials
Wednesday, August 13
Well, we all know that some of our friends are false. And, I remember learning as a little girl that Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend. Now, to complicate matters, some artful entrepreneurs are making it even more difficult to tell whether our sparkly friends are real.
Hmmmmmmmm, call me gauche, but I'd wear them.
Anyway, back to the story:
Diamond, it turns out, is a geek's best friend. Not only is it the hardest substance known, it also has the highest thermal conductivity - tremendous heat can pass through it without causing damage. Today's speedy microprocessors run hot - at upwards of 200 degrees Fahrenheit. In fact, they can't go much faster without failing. Diamond microchips, on the other hand, could handle much higher temperatures, allowing them to run at speeds that would liquefy ordinary silicon. But manufacturers have been loath even to consider using the precious material, because it has never been possible to produce large diamond wafers affordably. With the arrival of Gemesis, the Florida-based company, and Apollo Diamond, in Boston, that is changing. Both startups plan to use the diamond jewelry business to finance their attempt to reshape the semiconducting world. . . .It seems the Diamond Age may indeed be upon us.
If diamond is ever to be a practical material for semiconducting, it will need to be affordably grown in large wafers. (The silicon wafers Intel uses, for example, are 1 foot in diameter.) CVD [chemical vapor deposition] growth is limited only by the size of the seed placed in the Apollo machine. Starting with a square, waferlike fragment, the Linares process will grow the diamond into a prismatic shape, with the top slightly wider than the base. For the past seven years - since Robert Linares first discovered the sweet spot - Apollo has been growing increasingly larger seeds by chopping off the top layer of growth and using that as the starting point for the next batch. At the moment, the company is producing 10-millimeter wafers but predicts it will reach an inch square by year's end and 4 inches in five years. The price per carat: about $5.
BTW: Do you recall the lyrics?
Let me help you . . . .
The French are glad to die for love
They delight in fighting duels
But I prefer a man who lives
And gives expensive jewels
A kiss on the hand may be quite continental
But diamonds are a girl’s best friend
A kiss may be grand but it won’t pay the rental
On your humble flat
Or help you at the automat
Men grow cold as girls grow old
And we all lose our charms in the end
But square-cut or pear-shaped
Those rocks don’t lose their shape
Diamonds are a girl’s best friend
There may come a time when a lass needs a lawyer
But diamonds are a girl’s best friend
There may come a time when a hard-boiled employer
Thinks you’re awful nice
But ‘get that ice’ or else ‘no dice’
He’s your guy when stocks are high
But beware when they start to descend
It’s then that those louses
Go back to their spouses
Diamonds are a girl’s best friend
Sunday, August 10
Who could be proud of our doing this in Iraq?
A 1980 UN convention banned the use against civilian targets of napalm, a terrifying mixture of jet fuel and polystyrene that sticks to skin as it burns. The US, which did not sign the treaty, is one of the few countries that makes use of the weapon. . . . "We napalmed both those [bridge] approaches," said Colonel James Alles, commander of Marine Air Group 11. "Unfortunately there were people there ... you could see them in the [cockpit] video. They were Iraqi soldiers. It's no great way to die. The generals love napalm. It has a big psychological effect."This distrubs me.
Why would anyone who is able not use Peapod?
There’s a $4.95 delivery charge right now. They charge me more if I go into Dominicks myself and then have it delivered. And I can shop from the comfort of my desk chair. Sometimes, I do like to wander through the grocery store especially when I’m not sure what I want to cook. But, for day-to-day shopping, it’s so much easier.
For example I cut and pasted all of the ingredients for a recipe into the quick list . . . .
- pineapple juice
- semi-sweet chocolate
- unsweetened dutched cocoa
- cream cheese
- heavy cream
- salted butter
- unsalted butter
- whole milk
- table salt
- cider vinegar
- powdered sugar
Oh, you want pie too? Hmmmm. Well, you have to visit me to get pie. That’s the rule.
Wednesday, August 6
I'm getting ready to go home.
I'm sick and cold and achey.
I've cancelled my babysitting thing this evening as to avoid getting little man Jake sick.
I want to go home and take a bath. And I want to be coddled by someone who cares enough to make me chicken soup. Alas, I'm pretty sure that all of those people are either otherwise engaged, inept in the chicken-soup department, or thousands of miles away.
There are certain attitudes that freak me out. Do they include anger, wrath, vengeance, indignity? Nope. I’m fine with all of those. They tend to be short lived in well-rounded folk, and I tend to surround myself with relatively well-rounded folk.
I’m thinking of arrogance, sanctimoniousness, vanity, presumptiveness.
Seeing these attitudes in those I care about is disheartening.
Whenever I am disheartened in this way, I try to take stock of my own attitudes in retrospect. And I realized that seeing these attitudes in myself is revolting.
Tuesday, August 5
I'm at the office, wearing a shirt, two sweaters, long pants, boots and two pairs of socks. I'm freezing. I thought it was the temperature in the office. But my complaints were received with confusion. Apparently, there has been no change in the office temperature. Apparently, I'm running a fever. Ugh. I hope this isn't the start of some horrible flu . . . .
Monday, August 4
In reverse alpha order:
- word play
- wireless communication
- winning a game against a worthy opponent
- watching people interact
- used book stores
- unconditional love
- thunderstorms at night
- the thesaurus
- steak, pittsburgh rare
- the sounds of the country
- the snooze bar
- sleeping in a pillow laden bed with freshly-laundered sheets
- sitting in a room with a friend while we're both silently reading
- sex that leaves me unable to think coherently
- sex in the afternoon that turns into a nap
- reassuring a friend
- public transportation
- product shopping | trying new products
- presents for friends
- popcorn at the movies
- playing boggle
- playing backgammon
- personal accomplishment
- naps that turn into sex
- movies at the theater
- movies at my place or someone else’s
- making someone laugh so hard they snort
- losing a game against a worthy opponent
- looking at something differently
- lip balm
- leisurely bathing
- learning something new
- learning more about a friend
- lazy brunches
- laughing until I cry
- junky pseudo-antique stores
- hot coffee with half-n-half and splenda
- holding hands
- high heels
- hearing amusing anecdotes from friends
- having someone cook for me
- having my hair brushed (actually, I remember this as a favorite thing . . . . my hair is now too short to brush)
- having knowledgeable friends whose interests differ from mine
- getting scrupulously clean
- friends’ accomplishments
- fresh snow
- finding the most appropriate word
- finding a place for everything
- feeling worthy
- feeling nostalgic
- fantastically ludicrous plans
- facial cleansing cloths
- empathizing with a friend’s situation
- the dictionary
- delivery services
- debate with a worthy opponent
- dark humor
- dark chocolate
- cooking for people I care about
- communication shortcuts that develop with friends
- comfy clothes
- city sounds
- bottled water
- being underestimated
- being trusted
- being scrupulously clean
- being introduced to new music (too lazy to seek it out myself)
- being asked for assistance because I am thought to be knowledgeable
- bath gloves
correction by Crystal | 15:48
Jeremy doesn't have his lists in order either. Apparently, I'm not such a slouch after all.
Sunday, August 3
Simeon just picked up my laundry. He works for Lemon Scents. All of my laundry, in four bulky, heavy, unweildy laundry bags, was taken away down four flights of stairs to be laundered, folded, and brought back up four flights of stairs tomorrow evening for a mere $1.25 per pound. They even take press laundry and dry cleaning on the same schedule. This is very convenient considerning there isn't a washer or dryer in my building. And, actually, necessary, considering I've neither purchased laundry accoutrements nor owned an iron for years. I gave them specific instructions:
- white bag: wash warm with fabric softener, perma-press dry
- pink bag: wash warm with fabric softener, perma-press dry
- black bag: wash cold with fabric softener, perma press dry
- teal bag: wash hot without fabric softener, high heat dry
There is a phrase I frequently use:
Some things are better left to professionals.
This is true. Absolutely true. However, I tried to hug a particular professional last weekend at a bar, and took him and a couple o' barstools down with me when I slowly fell to the grungy floor. And now, I'm unsure that things that would be better left to him will be welcome requests. I imagine they would be, but, well . . . .
Anyway, my problem is the electricity in my apartment. I've blown fuses five times in the last three days. The last time I wasn't even attempting to plug-in or turn-on anything new. I was just sitting here typing and POOF darkness. I'm glad I knew where my cel phone was or I would have had to deal with it until the morning. [I don't know where the candles are. Finding them and acquiring more are items on the "Urgent" to-do list.]
According to the landlady, the previous occupant didn't blow a single fuse the whole time he was here. Apparently, he didn't have similar stuff. Actually, I can't see how he had any stuff. I mean, really, in this heat how could I be expected to watch Sex and the City without the AC on full blast? And, why wouldn't I have three fans running? And, I have to charge my PDA and my phone! And, who really turns off the lights all the rooms they aren't using? The bathroom light is always on when it's dark out and I'm here and awake. I mean, it would be tragic if I fell down on my way to pee, wouldn't it?
[BTWS&TC: I'm unsure that I could disagree with Samantha's comment about never being an ex-girlfriend from the preview for tomorrow's episode.]
Saturday, August 2
Finally. Finally. After all of the trauma. After all of the hoopla. The broadband internet access is up-and-running. And and this is the important part my two main email addresses were saved including all of the emails and my address books. You may now, again, reach me at bulletproofbra (at) comcast.net [the cocosmusings address is toast, but I can live with that]. Gotta send out a bunch of emails. But, first I shall sing and dance the Ren & Stimpy Happy Happy Joy Joy song a few more times.
Friday, August 1
I got fingerprinted last night. Second time in my life. It's impossible to get that ink out from under your fingernails. And no, not because I did anything wrong. It was because someone broke into my new apartment while I was at work. [Same reason I was printed the previous time too about ten years ago. ] They got some cash and some jewelry and a chunk of my sense of well-being. Angry. I'm very angry.
Some of the jewelry is irreplaceable. Gifts from mama. Gift from daddy. A gold band of Aaron's. Things to which I am was emotionally attached.
But, it could have been worse.
I know it could have been worse.
I'm glad I didn't walk in on them. I'm glad it didn't happen when I was there. But they touched my stuff. They handled things that are personal. My environment has been sullied. My space has been violated. Angry. I'm very angry. And I feel unsafe.