30 November 2009
26 November 2009
a break from regular programming
I'm going to try to limit the eye rolls today -- in honor of my fellow Americans who will be digging into the spirit of Giving Thanks and mountains of fattening food in this country of obesity, where a tool like Sarah Palin has the top-selling book this week...
Look, I recognize the difficulties here.
Opportunities will surely present themselves.
Like at the artsy-fartsy restaurant where we're going to have dinner this afternoon. For one, it's called ArtBar, so artsy is definitely in the mix, and where there's an artsy, there's a good chance it'll be followed by fartsy. Second, I'm bound to have at least one glass of wine, which always loosens my eye muscles, making them more susceptible to rolling.
Then there are the three football games today, in which several of my fantasy players may very well get in situations to fumble the ball, be intercepted, miss kicks, and essentially screw my chances of winning.
But in those dangerous moments, I'll try to think of cute fuzzy kittens, my warm house and husband, our wonderful family and friends, and the next 3 days away from work. Yeah, even though the dickish phrase "Life is Good" is now a commercial entity and totally overused, I gotta admit that it's true.
Look, I recognize the difficulties here.
Opportunities will surely present themselves.
Like at the artsy-fartsy restaurant where we're going to have dinner this afternoon. For one, it's called ArtBar, so artsy is definitely in the mix, and where there's an artsy, there's a good chance it'll be followed by fartsy. Second, I'm bound to have at least one glass of wine, which always loosens my eye muscles, making them more susceptible to rolling.
Then there are the three football games today, in which several of my fantasy players may very well get in situations to fumble the ball, be intercepted, miss kicks, and essentially screw my chances of winning.
But in those dangerous moments, I'll try to think of cute fuzzy kittens, my warm house and husband, our wonderful family and friends, and the next 3 days away from work. Yeah, even though the dickish phrase "Life is Good" is now a commercial entity and totally overused, I gotta admit that it's true.
23 November 2009
Go Czech Republic
The referee in this match is a douche. Looks like I won't be cheering for Croatia in the World Cup. Wait, did Croatia even make it to the World Cup? Whatever.
12 November 2009
arousing news
Go Spain!
I'm sure someone will say I don't have a right to say anything about this because I don't have children. But I think I do, because I'm nearly positive I pay more taxes than childbearers who get all those deductions for breeding. If parents did a better job of talking to their kids about sex, there would be no need for this campaign.
Maybe I'm just jealous. I would have loved to see the nuns at my high school trying to deal with this subject!
I'm sure someone will say I don't have a right to say anything about this because I don't have children. But I think I do, because I'm nearly positive I pay more taxes than childbearers who get all those deductions for breeding. If parents did a better job of talking to their kids about sex, there would be no need for this campaign.
Maybe I'm just jealous. I would have loved to see the nuns at my high school trying to deal with this subject!
08 November 2009
potage d'oignon
Yesterday morning, I finally got around to watching a couple episodes of The French Chef. I'd never watched the show, but after reading My Life in France, I was taken in by Julia Child -- impressed by her scientific and passionate approach to cooking and total love for food.
In just the three episodes I watched yesterday, I learned so much and realized I've got to go kitchen utensil shopping! First, I've got to get proper cutting knives. And I need a kitchen sewing needle because I need to truss a chicken, because I never realized what a difference trussing can make for a roasted chicken!
And so inspired, I decided to make Julia's French onion soup today. Now, in her tv show, she says to use red wine (which I did), but if you look at her recipes on the Web, they all call for white wine. Also, she said to use Swiss cheese, but that seemed too 70s Americana to me, so I opted to use Gruyere instead. Otherwise, I followed her tv show recipe to the letter -- even brushing slices of French bread with olive oil and baking them. The result: magnifique! Incredibly filling and rich, but a perfect composition, as Richard called it.
I'm already looking forward to roasting a trussed chicken next week, and trying her potato pancake recipe.
In just the three episodes I watched yesterday, I learned so much and realized I've got to go kitchen utensil shopping! First, I've got to get proper cutting knives. And I need a kitchen sewing needle because I need to truss a chicken, because I never realized what a difference trussing can make for a roasted chicken!
And so inspired, I decided to make Julia's French onion soup today. Now, in her tv show, she says to use red wine (which I did), but if you look at her recipes on the Web, they all call for white wine. Also, she said to use Swiss cheese, but that seemed too 70s Americana to me, so I opted to use Gruyere instead. Otherwise, I followed her tv show recipe to the letter -- even brushing slices of French bread with olive oil and baking them. The result: magnifique! Incredibly filling and rich, but a perfect composition, as Richard called it.
I'm already looking forward to roasting a trussed chicken next week, and trying her potato pancake recipe.
31 October 2009
tricked
Counter to Richard's sage foresight, I went ahead and bought 4 bags of candy this morning for the "100 kids" my neighbor said we'd get. Another neighbor told me he went through 3 bags last year.
So you know what's coming. If we got 20 kids tonight, I'd be surprised.
For two reasons we got through half the candy:
1. when she thought I wasn't looking, one kid (dressed as a clown) scooped two plus-sized handfuls into her candy bag.
2. we're now stuffing handfuls into our mouths.
So alas, disappointment. I had such high hopes for our first Halloween in our new 'hood. Best trick or treater of the night? The boy who asked for a glass of water because his mouth was dry. Only in Cambridge...
So you know what's coming. If we got 20 kids tonight, I'd be surprised.
For two reasons we got through half the candy:
1. when she thought I wasn't looking, one kid (dressed as a clown) scooped two plus-sized handfuls into her candy bag.
2. we're now stuffing handfuls into our mouths.
So alas, disappointment. I had such high hopes for our first Halloween in our new 'hood. Best trick or treater of the night? The boy who asked for a glass of water because his mouth was dry. Only in Cambridge...
28 October 2009
holy cats!
Just watched this docu trailer on Boing Boing about "crazy cat ladies."
I often say that if Richard were to die before me, then I'd probably become a crazy cat lady with 11 cats. But seeing this, I hope I'm wrong.
One woman especially caught my attention when she said: "I think a lot of people don't know that I'm as lonely as I am." Oh, how heartbreaking.
I often say that if Richard were to die before me, then I'd probably become a crazy cat lady with 11 cats. But seeing this, I hope I'm wrong.
One woman especially caught my attention when she said: "I think a lot of people don't know that I'm as lonely as I am." Oh, how heartbreaking.
weather is, apparently, rocket science
I'm listening to the NASA live stream, waiting for the launch of Ares 1-X, a test flight for a new rocket and exploration program.
I gotta say, even the weather people for NASA are full of it. This chick is such a buzzkill, coming in every 5 minutes to say "well, we're not quite green (good for launch) yet, but we think it might be green in 5 minutes." The guy at NASA then asks "what's the prognosis? do you think it'll clear? and if so, when?" She goes away for 2 minutes and basically comes back with a paraphrased version of "I don't know."
So the launch gets delayed another 10 minutes. This has been going on all morning. Well, actually since yesterday morning when they first tried to launch.
What's worse than the damn weather dithering is that the White House is threatening to scrap this whole rocket program.
UPDATE: successful launch at 11:32 and a successful re-entry. Well, at least the rocket works. Let's see if they ever get to the next stage of the program. I'm watching all the NASA nerds shaking hands. The director just told his crew "You guys are frickin' fantastic." Yes, he said "frickin" on live tv. Awesome!
I gotta say, even the weather people for NASA are full of it. This chick is such a buzzkill, coming in every 5 minutes to say "well, we're not quite green (good for launch) yet, but we think it might be green in 5 minutes." The guy at NASA then asks "what's the prognosis? do you think it'll clear? and if so, when?" She goes away for 2 minutes and basically comes back with a paraphrased version of "I don't know."
So the launch gets delayed another 10 minutes. This has been going on all morning. Well, actually since yesterday morning when they first tried to launch.
What's worse than the damn weather dithering is that the White House is threatening to scrap this whole rocket program.
UPDATE: successful launch at 11:32 and a successful re-entry. Well, at least the rocket works. Let's see if they ever get to the next stage of the program. I'm watching all the NASA nerds shaking hands. The director just told his crew "You guys are frickin' fantastic." Yes, he said "frickin" on live tv. Awesome!
26 October 2009
book post
This weekend was a bookish kind of weekend. Went to the Boston Book Festival in Copley to hear John Hodgman in a Q&A with Tom Perrota. John, as usual, was sharp and witty. Embarrassingly, I'd never heard of Tom before. Worse, I'd only heard of the films that had been adapted from his books. Both authors were entertaining.
After the session, we slogged our way through the rain to gander at the booth tents set up in Copley Square. As you'd expect, several book publishers and booksellers were there. And then, probably not what you'd expect: Brigham's Ice Cream and Legal Sea Foods. Now, Green Mountain Coffee, also an exhibitor, I'd expect; we always see writers and readers bending over books, paper and computers at coffeehouses. But ice cream and chowder? Of course, they both had the longest lines at their booths because they put one of society's favorite words before their wares: Free.
And the book theme carried on last night, when I went to Harvard Square to hear Margaret Atwood read from her new book "The Year of the Flood". I was nervous because I'd read somewhere that this was to be a 70-minute "dramatic" reading, including musicians. Richard saw it as an eye-rolling opportunity and encouraged me to go. And because she's my favorite author, I did.
And it wasn't so bad. Her reading introduced the book's main characters and personas, and set the scene for what could happen to Earth if humans continue to f*** everything up.
For the most part, the reading was sane. Atwood was lovely with her wild, curly gray hair, and she shared her wit and intelligence -- especially in the Q&A.
But I did get some eye-rolling exercise when she played (from a CD player) three hymns that were inspired by her book, written by her agent's spouse or friend. She prefaced them by saying the hymns were "peppy," and then proceeded to sway a bit and lightly sing along, swinging her arms. Her accompaniment was fine. She's nearly 70 and has earned the right to be a fruity, carefree older lady.
But the hymns themselves? Well... I'm not sure if they were supposed to be a piss-take. I think the 2 ladies sitting next to me thought so; the pew (we were at First Parish Church) was shaking because they were silently laughing so hard. However, these were the same ladies who said at least 3 times before the reading started that they thought they were getting a copy of the book because they paid a $25 entrance fee. This is despite the fact that Harvard Book Store said everywhere -- on the ticket order form, on the tickets themselves, on signs at the Church, and in the introduction -- that the $25 fee goes to environmental charities and you don't get a copy of the book.
Anyway, aside from a few brown-nosing, "isn't Margaret Atwood great when she sways" sort of appreciative giggles (me included!), no one seemed to think the hymns funny, idiotic or unusual. Personally, I thought the songs were awful. The singer sounded too much like that egomaniac douchebag James Taylor. In other words, I will not be buying the CD that complements the book. And it better not automatically come with the book -- that's a sure sign that the music is so crap that they have to give it away.
And no, I didn't buy the book last night and have Atwood sign it. I've decided in the past couple of years that there's something not-quite-right about owning signed book copies. First, if you're a serious book reader (and I'm assuming you are if you're collecting signed copies), you've probably got a long, wish-to-read list, so what's the likelihood you're going to re-read this book? Second, you're going to die someday, and what are the chances that your beneficiaries will like the books you like? They're likely not going to be worth much, considering how many authors sign countless copies of their books these days. At least 100 copies of "The Year of the Flood" went out into Cambridge last night alone! I think it's incredibly gracious that authors offer this service. I'm sure they do it because they need to build their fan base, but what a pain in the hand it must be.
That said, I've only recently come to this realization. Meaning, I have to figure out what to do with the signed books I have. There's a Margaret Atwood, an Amy Tan, a Maya Angelou. Any takers?
After the session, we slogged our way through the rain to gander at the booth tents set up in Copley Square. As you'd expect, several book publishers and booksellers were there. And then, probably not what you'd expect: Brigham's Ice Cream and Legal Sea Foods. Now, Green Mountain Coffee, also an exhibitor, I'd expect; we always see writers and readers bending over books, paper and computers at coffeehouses. But ice cream and chowder? Of course, they both had the longest lines at their booths because they put one of society's favorite words before their wares: Free.
And the book theme carried on last night, when I went to Harvard Square to hear Margaret Atwood read from her new book "The Year of the Flood". I was nervous because I'd read somewhere that this was to be a 70-minute "dramatic" reading, including musicians. Richard saw it as an eye-rolling opportunity and encouraged me to go. And because she's my favorite author, I did.
And it wasn't so bad. Her reading introduced the book's main characters and personas, and set the scene for what could happen to Earth if humans continue to f*** everything up.
For the most part, the reading was sane. Atwood was lovely with her wild, curly gray hair, and she shared her wit and intelligence -- especially in the Q&A.
But I did get some eye-rolling exercise when she played (from a CD player) three hymns that were inspired by her book, written by her agent's spouse or friend. She prefaced them by saying the hymns were "peppy," and then proceeded to sway a bit and lightly sing along, swinging her arms. Her accompaniment was fine. She's nearly 70 and has earned the right to be a fruity, carefree older lady.
But the hymns themselves? Well... I'm not sure if they were supposed to be a piss-take. I think the 2 ladies sitting next to me thought so; the pew (we were at First Parish Church) was shaking because they were silently laughing so hard. However, these were the same ladies who said at least 3 times before the reading started that they thought they were getting a copy of the book because they paid a $25 entrance fee. This is despite the fact that Harvard Book Store said everywhere -- on the ticket order form, on the tickets themselves, on signs at the Church, and in the introduction -- that the $25 fee goes to environmental charities and you don't get a copy of the book.
Anyway, aside from a few brown-nosing, "isn't Margaret Atwood great when she sways" sort of appreciative giggles (me included!), no one seemed to think the hymns funny, idiotic or unusual. Personally, I thought the songs were awful. The singer sounded too much like that egomaniac douchebag James Taylor. In other words, I will not be buying the CD that complements the book. And it better not automatically come with the book -- that's a sure sign that the music is so crap that they have to give it away.
And no, I didn't buy the book last night and have Atwood sign it. I've decided in the past couple of years that there's something not-quite-right about owning signed book copies. First, if you're a serious book reader (and I'm assuming you are if you're collecting signed copies), you've probably got a long, wish-to-read list, so what's the likelihood you're going to re-read this book? Second, you're going to die someday, and what are the chances that your beneficiaries will like the books you like? They're likely not going to be worth much, considering how many authors sign countless copies of their books these days. At least 100 copies of "The Year of the Flood" went out into Cambridge last night alone! I think it's incredibly gracious that authors offer this service. I'm sure they do it because they need to build their fan base, but what a pain in the hand it must be.
That said, I've only recently come to this realization. Meaning, I have to figure out what to do with the signed books I have. There's a Margaret Atwood, an Amy Tan, a Maya Angelou. Any takers?
30 September 2009
what's age got to do with it?
My dear parents visited with us last week. I swear, by the time they left, I felt like I was their age.
My stubborn (he's a Taurus through and through), 83-year-old father refused to let up on the house work. He not only scrubbed our deck, but got on his hands and knees to stain it! He would only let me get new rags for him, or a deck chair to sit for a moment. Then, he insisted on pruning each shrub, bush and tree in our yard while I held the clippings bag for him. At first I thought he didn't trust me to do anything, but I realized it was just his sheer determination to contribute something to our house.
Meanwhile, my 86-year-old, Aquarius mother was constantly washing clothes, sweeping our hardware floors or trying to help me cook. She's a gabber, so as long as we were talking or laughing, she was content.
All in all, by Sunday night, Richard and I were beat and we had hardly done anything.
Tonight, Richard's parents arrive. His dad is a Taurus too, so we're looking at two weeks of paint patching, more staining and a multitude of other jobs getting done.
Good thing Richard and I are flying to Acapulco in two weeks -- we'll need the rest from all their hard work!
My stubborn (he's a Taurus through and through), 83-year-old father refused to let up on the house work. He not only scrubbed our deck, but got on his hands and knees to stain it! He would only let me get new rags for him, or a deck chair to sit for a moment. Then, he insisted on pruning each shrub, bush and tree in our yard while I held the clippings bag for him. At first I thought he didn't trust me to do anything, but I realized it was just his sheer determination to contribute something to our house.
Meanwhile, my 86-year-old, Aquarius mother was constantly washing clothes, sweeping our hardware floors or trying to help me cook. She's a gabber, so as long as we were talking or laughing, she was content.
All in all, by Sunday night, Richard and I were beat and we had hardly done anything.
Tonight, Richard's parents arrive. His dad is a Taurus too, so we're looking at two weeks of paint patching, more staining and a multitude of other jobs getting done.
Good thing Richard and I are flying to Acapulco in two weeks -- we'll need the rest from all their hard work!
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