tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73408496369429430392024-03-13T20:13:43.910-07:00The QuestionSomething wonderful. Something horrible. A voice for change. Philosopher. Artist. Lover. The one, the only. Completely amazing and totally annoying. Journal. Of. Clarica.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger98125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-46240500815903134172014-07-04T08:40:00.001-07:002014-07-04T08:40:16.860-07:00Who loves Papa Smurf<p>The truth is I have stopped listening to audiobooks on my extremely long bus commute, so now I have more opportunity, motive and method to pop a few words down on my blog. </p>
<p>That aside, who loves papa smurf? I am come to this question because of a streetlight at the bus stop I just passed. Painted a dull, dark green and defaced with ordinary graffiti. </p>
<p>KW + GW</p>
<p>PAPA SMURF</p>
<p>Papa Smurf isn't even that tall, and I doubt that he has relaxed his standards of appropriate behavior far enough to run around town with a number of his 'boys' for a lighthearted yet furtive tagging expedition.</p>
<p>Which leads me to believe that there is a number of individuals (for where there is one, there is likely to be others) who have embraced the identity or persona of Papa Smurf as their own idealized self.</p>
<p>I don't know why I'm surprised, why this seems like such an incredibly unlikely state of affairs, but there you have it. I can be surprised Papa Smurf.</p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-86883296078105060402014-07-03T15:09:00.001-07:002014-07-03T15:09:52.251-07:00Over a year<p>Goodness, it looks like it has been over a year since I've made a post, how the time flies.</p>
<p>In my own stumbling pursuit of happiness, I have started goofing around on the unnatural soccer field at my work place on breaks. It's hilariously goofy, but it totally cracks me up. The downside is I get unnatural grass down my pants, which can be a bit of a surprise later.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghGbkStUWHBE0klB2m7x_KwJSoS0Od-VMLFvpAKCUfroNsnNA7kq1g3tlE2aN6U5SBP0u6uU7Yg8qtmPDUPzyDs4T7zpJr61cB6LW6ATEsSh-HaJgLqs188TVyEI6vYHRvszM2qYgYyW6p/s1600/IMG_20140616_165458.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghGbkStUWHBE0klB2m7x_KwJSoS0Od-VMLFvpAKCUfroNsnNA7kq1g3tlE2aN6U5SBP0u6uU7Yg8qtmPDUPzyDs4T7zpJr61cB6LW6ATEsSh-HaJgLqs188TVyEI6vYHRvszM2qYgYyW6p/s640/IMG_20140616_165458.jpg"> </a> </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-74355108069667089052013-04-07T21:55:00.001-07:002013-04-08T05:47:15.966-07:00Ridiculous craving<p>10 minutes before bedtime, and it hits me. A ridiculously strong and specific craving for a certain name-brand nacho-cheese tortilla chip. Probably more than one chip, but it's irrelevant, because I will not be running out to buy a bag. </p>
<p>I want these chips about once every two or three years now, and usually it's no big deal. I go<br>
get a bag. But bedtime on a school night (with a 5am wake up call) is <i>sacred</i>.</p>
<p>Now it's 50 minutes after bedtime. I've read a couple of chapters of a library book, downloaded a blogger app to make this post on, and written this post. I should be sleeping. Or close to it. But I'm miles away, longing for a crunch or living for a dream. Loving for a moment. . . </p>
<p>Now with wacky song lyrics. Let's try lights off again. G'night!</p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-33136478208205619862013-01-15T20:01:00.000-08:002013-01-17T11:09:41.468-08:00That was dinner <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1fqytEcGN9RRxXfBqTwOoJGdcBBZ17F1TdpTPbIAKbC2rvHjX520hYH0oWgZhXfkJ1mO0qWKNJCIXEelZZLsteYaksG18fFGfPcj8N_TNvZYsF0R8vbCjXPSKgPavmk573DkBP5-uDTUV/s1600/p_00340-722552.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5833892401334729874" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1fqytEcGN9RRxXfBqTwOoJGdcBBZ17F1TdpTPbIAKbC2rvHjX520hYH0oWgZhXfkJ1mO0qWKNJCIXEelZZLsteYaksG18fFGfPcj8N_TNvZYsF0R8vbCjXPSKgPavmk573DkBP5-uDTUV/s320/p_00340-722552.jpg" /></a> Not a great topic, but at least it's an update. It's 40 degrees here in Seattle, as I cameo through on my way home to Tacoma. The bus stop where I transfer features a convenient taco joint, and a pizza establishment. Or vice versa. I'm a little befuddled from a small issue of sleep availability, and a large helping of pestilence and cold medication. I've had some delightfully absurd notions lately, but I took no notes, and they have moved on. Fun while they lasted. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-1331854739910354042012-11-20T06:47:00.001-08:002012-11-20T06:47:40.932-08:00Parenthetically, as an asideHello world!
<br>
<br>I have stepped up my stuff, and now i can post to this blog from my phone. The upside is more me!
<br>
<br>The downside, from my point of view, is that i can't post pictures from my phone. here, anyway--I have already posted quite a few over at my art blog on tumblr. Claricaandtheart. I'd link, but that would be way beyond my toolbox for phone posting.
<br>
<br>Which is a gross exaggeration. I can link by hand. I presume if i included html it would slide right in. I'm just lazy, right now.
<br>
<br>Cheers!
<br>
<br>-----
<br>ClaricaUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-58570377134891089662012-08-24T01:13:00.001-07:002012-08-24T01:13:35.347-07:00And the card attached would say... does this card smell funny?I am someone who once weighed over 350 pounds, and it should come as no surprise to you that I haven't spent a lot of time hungry. Or with an empty stomach, if that's different from hunger. I used to not even be able to tell that I was full, but eventually I figured that out. Which is kind of an exaggeration, because I didn't figure it out. There was no exploration and revelation or rational sleuthing involved... just one day, I overate, and for a change I felt icky instead of pleasantly numbed.<br />
<br />
I wasn't trying to feel pleasantly numbed or anything by overeating... although come to think of it, 'trying' is totally the wrong verb. I mean, I did used to have an irrational fear of malnutrition, but I wasn't 'trying' to 'correct' the 'malnourishment' with lots of food. I was way more of a thoughtless eater. No agenda.<br />
<br />
What I'm trying to get at, instead of 'oops, I ate it again' commentary, is that hunger is a surprise to me, now that I don't overeat as regularly. I'm totally not used to it, and if I still had pleasantly numbed as an option, I'd probably pick that, because 'hungry', if that's what it is, is totally a drag.<br />
<br />
But it's totally normal, and while I do have to do something about it, at least two or three times a day, I plan to figure out how sit with it without thinking I have to get up and do something about it.<br />
<br />
It's totally late at night as I write this, and I am hungry, but I was just reading this great book by Jenny Lawson, the Bloggess ("Let's Pretend This Never Happened"), and I wanted to do a book review about that time that the goat went and slept in my parent's bed, and not because my sister and I pranked them. We were innocent! We didn't even leave the front door open!<br />
<br />
But you don't do a book review about that time the goat waltzed into your home, right? I mean, it wasn't even in the book! Though there were goats in the house in Jenny's book, and god bless her for it, if there is a god.<br />
<br />
And I'm too tired right now to tell a coherent story, which is a real pity because I've got some doozies. So I'll just go for my traditional abrupt ending with additional non-sequitur cliff hanger. (I know, it is cruel. Sorry.)<br />
<br />
And just end with<br />
<br />
Grand<br />
<br />
Theft<br />
<br />
Tarp.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-86270465524574844792012-08-16T16:04:00.003-07:002012-08-16T16:04:53.568-07:00self-contorted existenceI just finished a great book today, by Alison Bechdel. Are You My Mother. She's an artist and storyteller who wrote (writes?) Dykes to watch out for, and in some ways this book is a sequel to a book about her father that I have not yet discovered. He was apparently homosexual, and committed suicide while she was away from college. I say apparently there not to suggest that it is or is not actually so--I don't know, I don't have any investment either way, and it strikes me as weird that I chose that word there, to make clear to others that this man's orientation is not something I have personal experience of.<br />
<br />
I must digress to say that blogger apparently disapproves of my posting this entry today, because it keeps warning mt that errors are occurring while (automatically) trying to save or publish my post. I couldn't get the whole internet to work at all the first time I came over to share this book review with y'all, about 20 minutes before I finished the book, but now the opposition has narrowed. <br />
<br />
At any rate, this book is about herself and her mother and what she did about that, and includes a lot of therapeutic information about mothering and identity formation that was really fascinating and wonderful. There's a guy I'd never heard of, Donald Winnicott, who has some good enough theories about stuff and things, particularly childhood development as influenced by caretakers. (This sentence make my enthusiasm for Donald seem rather tepid, but it is in fact the opposite. If I weren't writing a review of this book and how great it is, I'd be writing about Donald, and how great he was. Just with a lot less coherency or detail, because I know a whole lot more about this book than I do about DW.)<br />
<br />
Internal feelings of alienation are explained by DW, as far as I can tell, as the creation of a "false self" to protect the "true self". The false self intercedes to interact with the big scary world, where it is perceived that authentic reactions are somehow rejected, and are prevented from expression with 'artificial' or edited reactions presented instead. I don't have a lot of these feelings of alienation, but I do recognize the process as part of the 'pleaser' phenomenon, which I'm sure not everybody has heard of, but I'm not going to go into it right now, except to say if you shout at me I will probably make nice and then try to avoid you. Making nice is an asset to civilization, but it is inauthentic, and over-mediation of one's own impulses... well, I have no idea where this sentence was going, but I assume it was going to be AWESOME. sorry. (isn't that funny how I over-mediated my creative impulse so far as to literally forget what I was writing about? luckily it won't kill me, because it happens all the time.)<br />
<br />
That aside, I love that the title of this book is the same as the title of a well-known children's book, doubtless intentionally. It's sooooo cool. <br />
<br />
I found this book in the library as part of a display, "new non-fiction"? It still has a 'new' sticker on it. I wasn't really looking for a book, I was just taking my sister, visiting from out of state, to check out some stuff for her to read while she visits for two weeks, and found it (and a couple of others) while I was waiting for her to make her selections.<br />
<br />
I thought a lot about the Bechdel test while reading this book. The Bechdel test is not very valuable to me personally, because it's not better at selecting movies that I will enjoy and be willing to invest in than I already am. Why aren't people making more movies that pass the Bechdel test? Probably because society (and natural instincts) demand that the false self (and true self) step up and present a good-enough mother almost every time some lady has a baby. (Whether or not there are gender differences in drive or competitiveness or the expression thereof).<br />
<br />
The latest movie that I adored was the original Bogart and Audrey Hepburn oldie 'Sabrina'.<br />
<br />
It's hot out today and I took a break to eat lunch and splash my nephew in the kiddie pool. Now I can't remember any of the other million interesting things I was going to tell you, so let me just leave off.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-73904372569141167652012-07-03T13:48:00.002-07:002012-07-03T14:49:56.852-07:00Don't know my own selfI don't know what it is about hockey movies, but I love them. Ok, two of them. There's the classic, Slap Shot, which I've liked for many years. And then there's the one I saw last night, and then stayed up late (and I mean LATE...) to watch it a second time.<br />
<br />
Goon.<br />
<br />
On the face of it, there's really not much for a girl like me to find appealing. Well, except Seann William Scott, and Liev Schreiber, who are both totally cupcake worthy.<br />
<br />
But it's not even that, really. I like Seann William Scott in movies because he's had this kind of crazy gleam in his eye, and he didn't have it in this movie. <br />
<br />
And there's a lot of brutal violence, which I really don't go for. But I think the difference was that it was sort of lighthearted. It wasn't a grudge match, good-vs-evil confrontation kind of a deal. I don't like that whole 'crush thine enemies' vibe, and while I heartily endorse good winning over evil, I'd prefer to keep evil off screen. I'm a sensitive soul, I don't need to see them plumb the depths of depravity to feel invested. This had a light touch--sad sack makes happy. <br />
<br />
And this movie had some great transitional moments with the wind having a supporting role. Wind. Go figure. <br />
<br />
And the underlying theme of finding your groove is totally cool too.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-76781858868291495852012-06-28T22:40:00.000-07:002012-06-28T22:40:22.166-07:00Subversion of the expectation"Research carried out at the University of Southampton has concluded that
participants in drug trials should be better informed about the
potential significant benefits and possible side-effects of placebos."<br />
<br />
Now, I don't want to knock placebos. An oncologist invented that flower essences thingamagiggy because of the research coming out on the positive effects of placebos, and he had nothing better.<br />
<br />
But I really wish they hadn't brought up the possible side-effects of placebos, because now I KNOW I'm going to suffer from them, hypochondriac that I am.<br />
<br />
At any rate, when I found out about this research, I laughed out loud, and that's worth something.<br />
<br />
I sent a postcard to my sister this week that said "Does this postcard smell funny?" <br />
<br />
What does funny smell like, anyway? Certainly that postcard!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-25421339342448909932012-06-13T11:44:00.001-07:002012-06-13T11:44:23.219-07:00My Boring Ass LifeNo, no NO! Not *my* boring-ass life. Kevin Smith's.<br />
<br />
I checked this book out from the library because I really wanted to read a different book that he wrote (can't remember what) but this was the one I could check out at the time.<br />
<br />
As storylines go, it sucks rocks. It's like a year's worth of blog entries of his day-to-day life, and I swear to god he includes every loaf he pinches out. Which reminds me I have to look up what a beer shit is, and I'm a bit trepidatious, because there is no eraser for the brain, and we all know the internet has no brakes. And I digress.<br />
<br />
It's not really that it's a fascinating insight into a more-interesting-than-mine film-making life, and I'm definitely not one of those guys who follow the gossip rags to live vicariously on the publication of celebrity. That stuff's in there, but it is embedded in a matrix of the everyday stuff that doesn't really make a good story, but make a good life. And I'm not even halfway through.<br />
<br />
This was apparently all published on his view askew online forum, which I don't read because I'm not that much of a movie geek. Or a Kevin Smith Geek. Though I do appreciate his work, even this boring-ass-yet-can't-put-it-down book. Kudos.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-48097682463940300952012-06-09T18:36:00.001-07:002012-06-09T18:36:28.493-07:00An InvitationA funny thing happened to me on the way to... wherever it is I'm going. I got distracted! But I'm here today to tell you a riveting story... About Last Night.<br />
<br />
I woke myself up. Because of a dream sneeze. Seriously! I was dreaming that I was crashing at a friend's house, and his whole family came by in the middle of the night to drop of leftovers and har de har me. I think we gave the leftovers to a homeless waif. In the parking garage next door. <br />
<br />
And I sneezed--in the dream. NOT in real life. JUST in the dream. It was pretty gross, like there was snot all over my arm and I cleaned it up and all, but I seriously wanted to take a dream shower. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-19927579222773202162012-02-20T17:31:00.000-08:002012-02-20T17:31:54.696-08:00I saw another movieThis week it was: This Means War, which is a romantic action comedy, I guess. It was cute, with explosions and puppies. I liked it. There were people in it, mostly total cuties.<br />
<br />
But what I can not stop boggling at is the preview for another movie. Abraham Lincoln. Vampire Hunter. <br />
<br />
Every time I start thinking about it, I can't decide if it is a HORRIBLE idea, or a BRILLIANT idea, and I'm leaning over towards brilliant, with a dash of lunatic.<br />
<br />
Abraham Lincoln was apparently an axe-wielding vampire hunter. Who knew? <br />
<br />
I didn't really see any of the vampires, or the menace they pose, but it's probably the usual. Blood sucking fiends of the night that find humans magically delicious. I'm always kind of interested in the vibe for vampires, it's different all the time. Moody? Sarcastic? Tormented? Feral? <br />
<br />
I can not decide if I would go to see Abraham Lincoln. Vampire Hunter. I'm just glad to know it exists.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-56077820806974043932012-02-07T13:50:00.000-08:002012-02-07T14:34:33.623-08:00Not about Johnny DeppI watched a movie last week that was pretty good, "<a href="http://http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0318761/">Thumbsucker</a>" with Vince Vaughn, Vincent D'Onofrio, and Lou Taylor Pucci, who played the title character, playing a junior in high school.<br />
<br />
I picked this movie because I ADORE Vincent D'Onofrio, for reasons I cannot fully explain. I have not seen every movie he has been in, because I am a pansy who is not going to watch a movie called "Full Metal Jacket" no matter how good it might be. But everything I've seen him in, he has been riveting.<br />
<br />
I also like Vince Vaughn, but I didn't really like his character in this movie, because, HELLO, he is a teacher who bought beer for students on an out of town trip. I am such a goody-two-shoes that I have trouble believing that this would ever happen, but not so naive as to believe that it NEVER happens. At any rate, I digress. Though seriously, who even likes beer? (OK, ok, I know people like beer.)<br />
<br />
This movie is about the kid, who I found extremely distracting on two levels. First of all, he bears some indefinable resemblance to one of my own best friends from high school, Ben. And secondly, he bears an UNCANNY resemblance to Johnny Depp. Which leads me to the confusing confluence of opinion that maybe my friend Ben looks like Johnny Depp in some way? I always thought my cousin Billy did, but whatever.<br />
<br />
When actually my cousin Billy looks exactly like my grandpa. It's not a big surprise, they're related-- but the idea that my grandpa might have looked like Johnny Depp too is a sudden surprise to me as I'm writing this, and really I just want to skip right past this and get back to the movie.<br />
<br />
Mind you, I think Johnny Depp is an excellent actor too. Just, sort of reserved in some way.<br />
<br />
So, the kid's in high school, and doesn't have any friends, which is totally lame. But, oddly, it's not about that--it's about his academic listlessness and self-soothing thumb-sucking behavior. Oh, and did I mention Kenau Reeves is in this movie too? They pulled out ALL the stops. He's the orthodontist/hypnotist/pivotal influence character for this movie, which is odd because he kind of has a tiny role.<br />
<br />
I should mention that Tidla Swinton is the Mom, and I found her part in the movie sort of confusing. But I won't tell you why, because I don't want to give EVERYthing away.<br />
<br />
And I am writing a review of this movie for NO REASON. I actually wanted to talk about some music on the soundtrack, but this isn't the music I was thinking of! Whoops. <br />
<br />
And since I can not figure out which movie has the music I am so drawn to, I will just explain that I LOVE the sound that you get on an acoustic guitar from the left hand switching and changing cords--particularly that sliding sound. I play a little guitar myself, and that sound in almost any music adds an extremely uplifting false feeling of accomplishment, because usually you only hear that sound when you're playing the guitar yourself--it's not amplified like the notes played over the sound box are. The only recording I can think of right now where you can hear this is almost any track from <i>The Creek Drank the Cradle</i> by Iron & Wine, a favorite of mine.<br />
<br />
Another abrupt conclusion, brought to you by the vocabulary booster: Pecksniff. I'm totally not telling you what THAT means. Though it is totally safe for work.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-25531241094025775302011-11-08T16:11:00.000-08:002011-11-08T19:00:46.575-08:00Magic Horses, Great Jobs, and The science of impulseI saw an old movie the other day or month or so ago, at a friend's house. Into the West is the story of a broken down family in Ireland and the horse that changes their lives. The two adorable urchins give marvelously satisfying performances, which isn't always the case with young performers. I'm going to give almost the whole plot of this 1992 movie away here, so if you're saving yourself for the willful suspension of disbelief (which I LOVE, but rarely have trouble capturing), read no further!<br />
<br />
They are mad for movies from the old west, and have seen every western available in the local convenience stores. The horse that changes their lives is horse-napped by some bad guys, and by a crazy chance the kids find and attempt and succeed in getting him back! <br />
<br />
But where to go? Home is no good--the neighbors complained about the horse and that's what got him taken away in the first place! (They did live several floors up in a cramped apartment building, but it seemed to be the idea of the horse that offended the neighbors rather than any specific offensive realities. Convention rather than public safety.)<br />
<br />
They decide to make like cowboys or Indians, and head... Into the West. Then it's sort of an action/chase movie with comedy hijinks mixed in with the painful story of a half-healed grief... as a movie it's kind of got a lot of stories going at once, but they don't trip over each other TOO much.<br />
<br />
At any rate, I've gone through ALL THAT to get to the start of my point... The last lines of the movie.<br />
<br />
One of the kids asks their dad: Are we [as 'travelers'] cowboys or Indians? And he replies: There's a bit of a traveler in everybody, Tito. But very few of us know where we're goin'. <br />
<br />
It was really my favorite part of the movie, and it is so neat that it WAS the end, because it's hard to get that kind of timing going!<br />
<br />
And all this was in service of discussing an article from Steve Denning of Forbes Magazine, about the <a href="http://www.forbes.com/sites/stevedenning/2011/09/12/the-ten-happiest-jobs/">10 Happiest Jobs</a>. Unfortunately this is based on self-reporting, but some of the conclusions of the article are, of course, valuable. <br />
<br />
Like this: "However, for a life to be meaningful, it must also be worthwhile. Engagement in a life of tiddlywinks does not rise to the level of a meaningful life, no matter how gripped one might be by the game." (Todd May, The New York Times)<br />
<br />
But one thing absolutely grated on me, enough so that it is the final, undeniable impulse to write today's blog post.<br />
<br />
"...with a focus on delighting the customer through continuous innovation..."<br />
<br />
Now, as a customer, I am not bothered by innovation. But Newer does not make Better. And companies that are working to engage their employees in new and innovative ways, as well as their customers, are all very well. But a 'new look' does not offer anything newer than looks, and for people who have been participating for a while, a 'new look' is a 'can't find anything anymore' problem. Which I hate.<br />
<br />
Some of this stuff is not mere economics, and I do not want anyone to be hurt when I suggest that delighting (or confusing) the customer may have a financial bottom line.<br />
<br />
Harvard professor Jennifer Lerner (of the Harvard Decision Science Lab) says that anger makes people optimistic and risk-seeking. (Fear has the opposite effect.) Sadness will make you eager to buy! <br />
<br />
Does continuous innovation stimulate anger and sadness? Are we entering some post-celebratory period of consumerism where nostalgia drives impulse buying? Or did that ship already sail when the home shopping network came to cable TV in the US in 1985?<br />
<br />
The difference between what we are like and what we THINK we are like is an interesting question, one I have been considering with some seriousness as I shape up my prospects. The difference between what we like and what we think we like is pretty much the same question. Or is it?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-53709446110399600012011-11-04T20:25:00.000-07:002011-11-04T20:25:00.271-07:00Grace, and long live ambiguity!I thought it was 8 or nine days since I last updated, but I was SO wrong! It was almost/over two weeks ago! I am not going to to the math exactly, though, because I don't much care. I am very sorry if you felt neglected, loyal readers! ha ha ha.<br />
<br />
OK, I have been up to a trip to ABQ, NM! I visited one of my many sisters there, I hadn't seen her for over a year, and my mother came too. It was a lovely visit. Every place in Albuquerque wants to sell you seafood though, which seems a little odd as it doesn't have a lot of shrimp or fish bays or streams or whatever, as far as I can tell. Coming from a coastal region, I was constantly tempted by the seafood in ABQ, NM. It was not a big mistake, but I should have known better.<br />
<br />
They have a lovely aquarium, except for the fact that I feel like the turtles or tortoises they had inside the big tank were, in some way, suffering. Kind of like Orangutangs at the zoo, kind of low-spirited. And the tank seemed overcrowded. And busy, except for the turtles, who were trying to hide, and failing.<br />
<br />
There were beautiful jellyfish in another couple of tanks, and I never worry about how jellyfish are feeling, so they were much more soothing. <br />
<br />
It was SO DRY there, I could not stand to be outside the house with some sort of lozenge in my mouth to keep my throat from drying up! I may be allergic to the dust. I might not have been in the right mood to travel to such an arid place, or at all, who knows. <br />
<br />
I absolutely love the phrase, "I am in NO mood," though. Because really, what does that mean? If you're thinking about a mood, you probably have one! Maybe in between thoughts about having a mood, there is actually no mood (although that's a little bit abstract, but anyway...). But LONG before you start talking about it, there is definitely SOME mood.<br />
<br />
I saw a Dim Sum sign less than a mile away from home! I am trying to talk a friend into trying it with me, though she has never been to dim sum, and I have some doubts about the restaurant in question, which, as far as I can tell, is called "Seafood Restaurant". <br />
<br />
Have I mentioned that while I am peculiarly drawn to seafood while away, I don't eat that much seafood here at home? A place called "seafood" anything holds NO appeal to me... until they slap a dim sum sign out front.<br />
<br />
Let it not be said that I am impervious to gentle persuasion.<br />
<br />
So anyway, next to the fine aquarium in ABQ, NM, is a very fine botanical garden, which is included in the price. It was extensive, and kind of a confusing place for me, as a botanical garden. Hardly any of the plants were labeled. We cut our visit short because they were closing.<br />
<br />
While down south I also visited the Plaza in Santa Fe, NM, via a train. It was lovely and from the train I saw a lot more rustic southwest than in ABQ, which didn't have any 'local' character that I could really discern, except for the turquoise and silver jewelry, which is lovely but not hanging from the streetlamps or anything, and not really my thing.<br />
<br />
Oh, a lot of the construction was one-level in ABQ, and as far as I noticed there were no basements. I didn't figure out the right person to ask about these things. But I have unsatisfied curiosities that are much more pressing, that I do a lot less about.<br />
<br />
Somehow, I will continue to cope.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-73824488554620171572011-10-19T12:17:00.000-07:002011-10-19T12:17:46.454-07:00TwilightStephenie Meyer deserves a cupcake. <br />
<br />
The thing about the Twilight books that most people don't get is that they are actually GREAT. <br />
<br />
I am not trying to say well-written, although I, personally, had no complaints. I am trying to say that they are dense. And I don't mean long (though I am not complaining, I love a good long book!) I am talking about PACKED.<br />
<br />
With budgeting advice. Social Commentary. Feminist Principles. Ethics. And advice for the lovelorn.<br />
<br />
And she put all of this important character-shaping stuff into the magic glass slipper of paranormal boy-crazy romance. BRILLIANT!<br />
<br />
I do not want to give you the impression that these novels are perfect. Some of that lovelorn stuff can get awfully repetitive. <br />
<br />
As anybody who has ever actually been lovelorn knows.<br />
<br />
And I had a lot of trouble, at first, getting what the appeal of Edward was. I thought it might have something to do with Edward, and handsome though he may be, that ice cold chiseled marble description always kind of gave me the creeps. Beautiful, emotionally intense or remote BFs are SO 1997. <br />
<br />
But I finally realized that the point is this: the heart wants what it wants. <br />
<br />
The relationship between Bella and Edward was a little easier for me to understand. "I don't want to hurt you!" "I don't want 'you hurting me' to hurt you!". It kind of sounds totally dysfunctional. It kind of was. And, as a semi-professional worrier, I can easily imagine having those worries. If, say, I was hopelessly attracted to somebody who literally wanted to suck my blood.<br />
<br />
It's kind of fun to recast visceral desire as literal hunger. It's not like any of us say: "I was kind of thinking about getting a bite to eat and Whoops! accidentally kissed somebody." It's kind of funny. A new desire is added to the demands of the flesh, and it's kind of hard to figure it out. Without, say, practice.<br />
<br />
And Bella has, as far as I can tell, none. But she still knows. <br />
<br />
What I love about Bella is that she ALWAYS knows what she wants. And she really cares about the people in her life, so much so that she doesn't want to bum anybody out because she exists. Not even her own parents!<br />
<br />
That's actually one of the things I hate about Bella, but as that's a much shorter list, I won't go through it. I will just say that Bella's lack of self-interest is pretty abnormal for a girl her age, and it's kind of refreshing. And it's kind of nice that she constructed her life very carefully so as not to be too much of a burden on her parents. <br />
<br />
This lack of self-interest as it applies to her personal life is a little more problematic, but they all seem to work it out in the end.<br />
<br />
And I haven't even gotten to the sequels! Which is a shame, but I ran out of words about 20 words back, and these few are just a brief postprandial treat. Enjoy!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-18380323668494573162011-10-18T11:25:00.000-07:002011-10-18T11:32:55.393-07:00pixie hair, reo speedwagon, and quantum lockingToday I plan to go get another haircut. I had one last month, but I thought I'd like to explore a medium-length hair a little bit longer. I did, but I'm over it now.<br />
<br />
Usually I only go cut off all my hair as some sort of unconscious grieving process. This process includes the strong and unambiguous feeling that I HATE MY HAIR. ahem. <br />
<br />
I don't feel this quite as emphatically right now, but it has to go, so maybe I no longer need to rationalize the separation of head and hair as a 'story' about why I am cutting my hair.<br />
<br />
I am going to ask for a pixie cut. From the butchers down at the beauty school about a mile away from my house. Pray for me. They gave me a terrible short hair cut last year that a couple of friends tidied up. Plus, I don't know what they call the kind of implements they used before, but those exaggerated pinking shears are not getting anywhere near my head this time. Hair cuts should not pull hair!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/REO_Speedwagon">REO Speedwagon</a> is a band that I know hardly anything about. Not exactly before my time, but long before I cared about music. But they've kind of been in the background of my musical environment, I guess, seeping into my brain. And now they have fully permeated my gray matter, and every other song that I start humming is one of their hits.<br />
<br />
I will not list them. They're ok, but while I am obviously moved, I am in no mood for it.<br />
<br />
I'm trying, now, to figure out if they released any songs I do not know well enough to sing along to. But I've forgotten what I started fighting for. Argh!<br />
<br />
They probably deserve a cupcake! <br />
<br />
And this morning I saw the beginning of a video on quantum locking, which basically translates as frigid superconducting levitation:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Ws6AAhTw7RA?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
It's pretty cool, and already immensely popular. Yay science!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-27837847953341920322011-10-17T11:20:00.000-07:002011-10-17T11:20:40.594-07:00The writing is on the wallLately, in my spiritual quest to quiet my inner voices, I have been trying to balance them out with a little more attention paid to what is going on outside my head. <br />
<br />
Obviously, I have the internet, and that is technically outside my head, but everything I see goes right into my head, and it might be getting a wee bit crowded in there. <br />
<br />
And as an aside, being diagnosed with a mental problem is not as stressful as you might think! On the one hand, all your concerns are legitimate. Yay! On the other hand, you have a lot of concerns. ugh. <br />
<br />
Speaking of legitimacy, I feel like I got to race through the steps of working through being diagnosed in record time <i>because</i> I was once informed that I was the victim of a conspiracy of kindness. My 2nd ex-step dad cornered me one day while I was eating lunch on my summer break in a local cafe, the Last Exit on Brooklyn. I was 14 or 15.<br />
<br />
The day started out so promising, and I was actually feeling very self-satisfied. I think because I ordered a salad? I didn't usually eat real food there, just bread and butter (oh the healthy honey bran loaf, how I mistrust your label. I invite you to betray me again!) or chocolate sundaes.<br />
<br />
And I usually didn't go there alone.<br />
<br />
He had a theory. My 'real' father was not my mother's husband at the time of my birth, but no, another man (also now deceased). Talk about a bummer! This kind of 'revelation', accurate or not, is very disruptive to your world-view. <br />
<br />
All the other parties, when questioned (separately) agreed that the official story contained all the facts of the matter. And, frankly, in the subtext I learned far more about all three of them than I EVER WANTED TO. But I believed them. Mostly.<br />
<br />
And who cares? I am here because some people made the ultimate sacrifice for evolution, and if wasn't my mom and her husband, I am willing to be grateful for the contribution of persons known or unknown. <br />
<br />
My understanding of what other people do, and why, was immeasurably enhanced that day. I didn't want to hear it all, and as I am pretty much an untrusting soul, I decided that a) I didn't much care about facts, b)I couldn't see what difference it would make in the future, given that everybody BUT my ex-step dad #2 had their stories straight, and c) I can't put the worms back in the can.<br />
<br />
I was somebody's daughter before my lunch, and I was somebody's daughter after my lunch, and no matter who that somebody might, biologically, be, I am always GOING to be me.<br />
<br />
So getting diagnosed replayed all those reactions of hurt, self-doubt, disappointment, acceptance, and in record time. It might not even be the right diagnosis, but I like my doctor and if I can't fix what's broken, maybe she can help.<br />
<br />
But back to what's going on OUTSIDE my head. I try to remember the phrase 'live in the moment', because I can worry ahead all the way through the rest of my life, and hardly any of my worries have ever become a problem. And not because I prevented them, but because I was worrying about hypothetical, not actual scenarios. My bad.<br />
<br />
And, in the moment, if I remember to go outside, I see a lot of birds and dogs lately. The birds do their bird thing, away from me, but occasionally seem to be trying to get my attention. If I become lost in thought. Since I am trying to live in the moment, I start paying attention, though I do not for one moment believe that birds care if I pay attention to them.<br />
<br />
Dogs, on the other hand, adore me. They seem to be way more friendly for a couple of months. I don't quite get what's going on there, maybe I am more friendly now that I am saying, in my head, "live in the moment"? Maybe when I am living in the moment I look more relaxed and approachable, instead of uptight and anxious?<br />
<br />
Frankly, I am beginning to think that EVERYONE knew I was uptight and anxious, except me! But I did spend a certain amount of effort pretending to be self-confident and trying to relax, so I also can not blame them if they were fooled. Heck, I was fooled too!<br />
<br />
And I digress.<br />
<br />
What I want to get to is the part where I say: The writing is on the wall.<br />
<br />
And I mean that literally!<br />
<br />
I was riding a bus and just after it went past a beautiful pond with turtle statues (no water, but the tiles were <i>blue</i>), I saw a slogan postered or painted, officially or unofficially on a wall down the street:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu1hJyt3BBDDAgTKqQGQMfLaWLw7qwJmtqMPwgC3gij3T0Hi1Gds2G0eS3xPvomaLQJRm-seBl-ha0zqCUiih-SUjM9pW6B-tlyGjYXbGAWHGC1Z6p8eg3fhYY073jLUROY55EQoxxa28A/s1600/future+will+contain.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu1hJyt3BBDDAgTKqQGQMfLaWLw7qwJmtqMPwgC3gij3T0Hi1Gds2G0eS3xPvomaLQJRm-seBl-ha0zqCUiih-SUjM9pW6B-tlyGjYXbGAWHGC1Z6p8eg3fhYY073jLUROY55EQoxxa28A/s1600/future+will+contain.PNG" /></a></div><br />
It was really uplifting, that day, a couple of weeks ago. I felt so strongly about it that I whipped out my notebook, which I take with me almost everywhere, and I wrote it down, along with a few other notes. <br />
<br />
I don't usually write in my notebook on the bus. I like to pretend I'm way more normal than that, plus it's not that smooth a ride and my handwriting gets jittery.<br />
<br />
At any rate, that public art was a quote from the 1968 student riots in Paris.<br />
<br />
And on my way out of Tacoma, a few days before, I noticed an officially inspirational quote, painted on the bus station wall:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivrbo4vNCOsGTt-Q0VGVF2sCeFqju-R5Nun2YnmMQOjrxgNeZYXZw_cFv2Fxk3T6-l8CYszyTDUH4zsrHbqmuBZDKF29NJThvz_6O3F_KT3i7uDUNEpm-QVjok-IroL3v-Tye4nTlDkwc_/s1600/common+way.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivrbo4vNCOsGTt-Q0VGVF2sCeFqju-R5Nun2YnmMQOjrxgNeZYXZw_cFv2Fxk3T6-l8CYszyTDUH4zsrHbqmuBZDKF29NJThvz_6O3F_KT3i7uDUNEpm-QVjok-IroL3v-Tye4nTlDkwc_/s320/common+way.PNG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
The City of Tacoma transit authority is certainly not afraid of the people! Or The Man... it becomes a little confusing when official art seems revolutionary.<br />
<br />
And the last two quotes I did not find out in the world while I was trying to live in the moment, but I'll make up beautiful placards for them as well.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPaj0O7Hug4hJih5O6zLL_ZP8QSHjPyiPK638e81TaChfyUVOAdUCgEZda6eJX9VaWrz0meSUzeHI2PFoHiUFnj17lN7kM5UFp587Tw0UDvU6AmKQsaIr6zQdnKynmWDB45x4RqoTTiFmR/s1600/property+of+power.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPaj0O7Hug4hJih5O6zLL_ZP8QSHjPyiPK638e81TaChfyUVOAdUCgEZda6eJX9VaWrz0meSUzeHI2PFoHiUFnj17lN7kM5UFp587Tw0UDvU6AmKQsaIr6zQdnKynmWDB45x4RqoTTiFmR/s320/property+of+power.PNG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
The ambiguity in this quote makes me week in the knees. Is it an endorsement of conservative values (not that I have anything against that), or a criticism of... I'm not sure what?<br />
<br />
And the other:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibjVGO8TWasIoYbGcW2RxcKbue1q9699NahGOaCZhucA9hX7oCpsAljvqTKz8r_e5qsVrGZ8gzurP_vA6j5Ix6ES6ajhK9Cm2FDhZRpGM3Fb1yJYj8phV9n5A1dk_7PNXLAwyDJaNqgT1E/s1600/job+of+the+writer.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibjVGO8TWasIoYbGcW2RxcKbue1q9699NahGOaCZhucA9hX7oCpsAljvqTKz8r_e5qsVrGZ8gzurP_vA6j5Ix6ES6ajhK9Cm2FDhZRpGM3Fb1yJYj8phV9n5A1dk_7PNXLAwyDJaNqgT1E/s320/job+of+the+writer.PNG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I think I found this quote on a poster for one Awesome project (theater) while looking for another (philanthropy). It makes me numb in a good way.<br />
<br />
Maintenance is progress. But it is not ambitious.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-32339613093865477742011-10-12T06:00:00.000-07:002011-10-12T06:00:19.049-07:00Whether or why?I am not a very ambitious cook. I love good food, and I've made some great food! And I still do. But if it takes longer than 10 minutes to prepare, I usually have a problem.<br />
<br />
That problem is not the same every time. Boredom and irritation are pretty close to the top of the list right now. And maybe all the time. I've talked about risk vs. reward before, and really, this is the main problem with my attention span. <br />
<br />
I can be RIVETED to something I don't really understand, because I love to feel like I can solve a problem. But I am also quite fond of things I know very well. There are books I have read upwards of 20 times! <br />
<br />
In some ways, I am aware that 'thinking I know something quite well' is usually an illusion. Or a delusion. And perhaps a mystery I am hoping to actually understand, despite the real possibility that, philosophically at least, this may be an impossible goal.<br />
<br />
Food doesn't seem that complicated anymore. I am not a great cook right now, because I don't care. And I have never been a good chef, because I like to follow recipes.<br />
<br />
But recipes leave important stuff out. Important stuff I do not always know, but could probably figure out on my own, if I weren't trying, carefully, to follow directions.<br />
<br />
There are two grocery stores within walking distance from my home. One is Safeway. It is a supermarket chain store. The other is far more fun! And I don't even know the name of it. East-Asia Market?<br />
<br />
If I ever wanted to make a recipe with obscure ingredients, I would totally look there first. Frankly, I shop there a lot! But I can't read all the labels, and I don't know what I want when I go in, because I rarely want to make a recipe with obscure ingredients. <br />
<br />
Everything there is so exciting, I literally can not decide what to buy! Or figure out what it is. Today I went in on my way to the mailbox, during an unexpectedly harsh rain shower, and I think I saw:<br />
<br />
Fresh Lychee<br />
Fresh Dragonfruit! *swoon*<br />
Dried lotus seeds. I think you make them into soup? Or a dessert kind of like tapioca?<br />
<br />
And I know they had fresh durian (chilled!), eleventy-million kinds of sardines and other little fish, and a slightly smaller variety of pickled garlic. And other frozen and dried and pickled and fresh and even baked things.<br />
<br />
Some of which crack me up because I can recognize, like this White King brand pancake mix imported from the Philippines, complete with scary white king mascot:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lsxcsfsboZ1r1bhbxo1_250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lsxcsfsboZ1r1bhbxo1_250.jpg" /></a></div><br />
And some of which crack me up because they are clearly labeled but unrecognizable, like these corn flakes. Which are green:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lsxczj6ue91r1bhbxo1_250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lsxczj6ue91r1bhbxo1_250.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div>With a variety like that, and no agenda, who can decide? I am working on my agenda.<br />
<br />
I entitled this post Whether or Why, which is the title of an article on LessWrong.com. One of the many enjoyable learning experiences I have had today. I usually ask myself the question Why? And, apparently, this wastes a lot of valuable brain processing power.<br />
<br />
I do not even know what I use my brain processing power on, most of the time. I kind of get self-conscious if I notice, though I am trying to get over that.<br />
<br />
In a shockingly abrupt conclusion, another word I used to find fairly inexplicable, but totally delightful: <br />
<br />
yowe - n. a Scot word for ewe.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-26970863955678662882011-10-11T06:00:00.000-07:002011-10-11T06:00:16.888-07:00Investment and Budgeting. For kicks.I have been planning on writing a post about budgeting almost since the beginning of this blog, and I guess today is the day.<br />
<br />
I am trying to convince people to budget. And I do not have a budget. My bad! I am an accidental hypocrite. <br />
<br />
But at least a self-aware hypocrite, my favorite kind of <a href="http://claricaandthequestion.blogspot.com/2011/08/whos-it-going-to-hurt.html">fraud</a>.<br />
<br />
I do not currently keep a budget because I do not have anything to plan with other than time (knock on wood) and savings. With an income, I will start to budget again. <br />
<br />
As it is, every expense is one step closer to nothing, which has been very scary while I have been depressed. But as you get closer and closer to nothing to lose, why worry about it?<br />
<br />
I do have an irrational fear of debt. It is irrational because debt is no longer a crime. Unless you intentionally write bad checks--that's fraud and it can send you to jail. <br />
<br />
But I still have time coming in every day, and I don't even budget that! It's neglectful, that's what it is.<br />
<br />
What most people don't get about budgeting is that it is totally about prioritizing. Some people think they prefer wine, women, and song for one week, and then penury for the rest of the month. Maybe they do.<br />
<br />
Personally, I skip the women and the wine, and that leaves me with time for song. Plenty of time, now that YouTube makes music piracy irrelevant.<br />
<br />
And I don't listen to that much music.<br />
<br />
Technically, I do budget my time. It's something like this, but I'm hoping to mix it up a little in the future.<br />
<br />
Clarica's Time Budget: 24 hours a day<br />
<br />
1. Sleep. The thing you need the most should be at the top of the list. I used to love to sleep 10 hours or so every day, but I am way behind on staying awake now. I'm lucky to get 6-8 hours a night. <br />
<br />
Remaining time: 16 hours<br />
<br />
2. Food for the body. I take time to eat. Not a lot, as cooking seems like a hassle right now, and I don't snack anymore. 1 hour?<br />
<br />
Remaining time: 15 hours<br />
<br />
3. Work for the body. I haven't always considered this on my time budget, but for a couple years I have been focusing some attention to the matter. Eventually I decided to spend some time on it too. I'm not very good at remembering yet. Habits help. I like to walk for 1 hour, but I might consider more time or more effort, or both, in the future.<br />
<br />
Remaining time: 14 hours<br />
<br />
4. Maintenance for the body. There's some showering and stuff. Enough said? I'll give this two hours, which is a totally generous allotment. Really I'm just trying to make you all think that I have something important to do every day, and if I run out of time on important stuff before I get to the 'fun' stuff, my mission of misdirection is accomplished!<br />
<br />
Remaining time: 12 hours<br />
<br />
5. Fun stuff. Fooled you! Fun stuff is totally important and can not be left to the bottom of the list. Especially considering I can hardly make myself do ANYTHING. I have to WANT to do something. I love writing, and maybe I do an hour a day? I think more would be ok, but I'm not there. I ADORE the internet, and probably spend 8 hours a day trying to find the next shiny. I could probably survive with a little less, if something else shiny came along. ahem. <br />
<br />
Remaining time: 3 hours<br />
<br />
6. Food for the soul. This would be higher up on the list, because it is TOTALLY the most important thing on the list. Unfortunately, it is the hardest item to figure out. I contribute to some online volunteer work regularly, and maybe that counts. But I started it for the sake of sanity, and not because I thought I 'should' be contributing somehow. I don't know if volunteering actually is food for the soul, or not. I know some of this writing stuff is absolutely good for what ails me, but I try to compartmentalize it as Fun and not Love. Don't ask me why. Maybe I get an hour or more of Food for the Soul in a day? It's hard to tell.<br />
<br />
Remaining time: 1 hour<br />
<br />
7. Shoulds. This is the hardest thing for me to do. I generally like to have at least two reasons to do anything, because one is not enough! Luckily, I don't have to consciously identify more than one, if it is shiny enough, or my unconscious interest is big enough. If it is important that I do something I am not natively excited to do, anxiety will totally jump in to save the day, and get me either procrastinating more seriously, or taking care of business. 1 hour.<br />
<br />
Whew! I'm all out of time for the day, and what a relief. I don't really worry about getting a job, though I definitely want one, because I have enough time, now that I've budgeted my priorities. A job falls under items 6 and 7, and hopefully 3 and 5 too. I don't have to re-allocate my investment of time at all.<br />
<br />
And speaking of investment, a friend of mine was talking about money and what a crock it is. Money is a valuable tool, but it is also a powerful tool for self-delusion, because the act of spending it invests your purchase with 'added value'. <br />
<br />
I didn't get the idea of added value until approximately a month ago, when I wanted to try a new special lotion to replace my very favorite special lotion which was discontinued ages ago. Magic lotion--it was non-greasy, and cured sun damage! I think it might even have made a great dietary supplement, but I never tasted it, so I don't know.<br />
<br />
The new stuff isn't as good, PLUS I can not buy it in stores. There are no stores. Not even amazon. The maker does not do wholesale for retail distribution. The maker has cut out the middleman.<br />
<br />
Everybody gives the middleman a lot of crap, but I am here to tell you, I like a freaking middle man. I want to go to one store with at least 20 things I want to buy, instead of twenty different owner-operated shops. The middleman is adding value. <br />
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What kind of markup is ethical for this service? Don't know, don't care, unless I open a tea shop/bakery (with excellent toasted cheese sandwiches!). Because then I will need to know not only what is ethical, but what is required to maintain my investment of time. And my investment of money.<br />
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And what if we spend our money on something a little bit more metaphorical? Something they call 'investments'? Do we invest our hearts and souls along with our money? Do we have a sense of proportion about it? Can we do so without committing fraud, either through practiced manipulation or just self-delusion?<br />
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I don't know. Occupy wall street all you want. It seems like a waste of time to me, but it does look like a lot of fun!<br />
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PS: If you want to budget your money, feel free to use the same categories above to help prioritize. Not all bills are created equal, and it is much easier to tell how much you value something when you think of almost everything that you buy as something that you actually want.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-35523960229699638742011-10-09T06:00:00.000-07:002011-10-09T06:00:08.353-07:00Brussel Sprouts, Rio, and Joe vs. The VolcanoOMG BLISS.<br />
<br />
I have been blessed this week, I can tell you. And not by the hand of god! Unless he made brussel sprouts. Who knows.<br />
<br />
I had brussel sprouts, sauted, at my regular sewing circle/philosophy/book club. I hadn't had brussel sprouts since boxing day, which is a long time to go without, I admit. But I never think of brussel sprouts when I am grocery shopping.<br />
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I used to eat them steamed. I still would, if it were all I could get! <br />
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So, back to this week, two nights later, MORE BRUSSEL SPROUTS! <br />
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Can a girl get too much of a good thing? I'm about to find out, because I ate plenty.<br />
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This time they were roasted with carrots, onions, apples, potatoes and keilbasa. I'd like to say there are no words, but seriously, how many words have I used to get to this point? They count!<br />
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Just before that, I watched the sweetest movie ever about a couple of birds too chicken (ha ha ha) to take the leap, until they had NO other choice. Seriously, DEATH was on the line. One learned to fly on the way down! I hope I did not give too much away, but I didn't see any previews, I just watched it because my nephew asked. <br />
<br />
And it totally brought to mind Joe vs. the Volcano, another great movie (which some people absolutely loathe. Don't ask me, I don't get it).<br />
<br />
Because they both have this one song: Mas Que Nada<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/9U1v01SGtGE?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
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Which I love! And I have to look up a translation now, because I have never seen the title before this moment, and I do not know spanish well, and "More of this nothing" kind of seems... unexpectedly depressing?<br />
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Well, it's Portuguese, and it's about Samba, and maybe translates to "more than anything" in one of those colloquial expressions. Go figure, ha ha ha. For some reason the expresion "amuse-bouche" springs to mind, though that's about food and not music. Plus it's french.<br />
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Moving on!<br />
<br />
Or back. Joe Vs. the Volcano is apparently throroughly analyzed and acclaimed as one of the top 10 existentialist movies of all time, which is thrilling. But it makes it hard for me to find a link to the ORIGINAL review + philosophical Kierkegaardian analysis I read online back in the 1990s. It's been eclipsed by generations of undergrad and graduate level philosophy papers, as far as I can tell.<br />
<br />
It was great, but I don't remember much about it. I bet somebody has finally written the philosophical analysis of Ruben and Ed now, with special reference to Plato's Republic... Nope. Probably because they never play Ruben and Ed on cable.<br />
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I made 19 pages of notes on that movie once, and I haven't even read Plato's Republic! <br />
<br />
But I digress. If there wasn't so much competition, I would totally write... not a philosophical analysis, but a dream-interpretation style review of Joe vs. the Volcano. With special reference to his luggage. Or do I mean baggage? ha ha ha! The main problem, I feel, with JVTV, is that it pretty much uses a cricket bat where a conductor's baton would do.<br />
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No offense to Mr. John Patrick Shanley, who actually also wrote one of the great songs on the soundtrack himself! And it's not like a clue baton packs the same whollup as a clue-by-four.<br />
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And the same could be said of Rio... it's not really trying to be subtle, but it's a cartoon, so nobody minds? Plus, they had toys in happy meals from that place, so... I don't really know what I want to suggest from this inference.<br />
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Other than I have obviously lost my train of thought. I am tired. I will find a nice abrupt change of pace and go to bed with this post in a sorry state of craftsmanship.<br />
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kab - n. an ancient Hebrew measure equal to about 2.3 litres (4 pints). from Hebrew qabh container. It's a pity hebrew isn't kosher for online scrabble, because qabh ROCKS.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-75975829461447135672011-10-07T06:00:00.000-07:002011-10-07T06:00:03.303-07:00Covered in bees and the magic finger of joy.I've mentioned, in passing, that I was covered in bees before covered in bees was cool. And I will now tell as much of that story as I can remember.<br />
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When I was a small child, falling asleep, I thought I saw bees next to me on the pillow. They weren't moving or obviously bees or anything, but I *knew*. I made my mom come fix things, and I tried to show her the dark spots, but they weren't there anymore. <br />
<br />
Just for the record, I do not frequently hallucinate. Occasionally I have a strange expectation that manifests itself as the certainty that I am not alone, until I wake up and find out it was just a nightmare. Or a dream, when I imagined my old boyfriend was standing outside my bedroom door for some reason. Then waking up was the nightmare! but I digress.<br />
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Bees.<br />
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Sometime in the 90's, I went to Louisiana to visit my father for Thanksgiving. When I came back, I found a bee in my room. I looked around, and my room was covered in bees! Actually, they were hornets, but I didn't know that until later. <br />
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I inaccurately accused my housemate of pulling a horrible awful prank, and we eventually determined that the cold snap had driven hornets to find a slightly warmer place to hide than the bush outside my bedroom window, where they had apparently been living. It was still plenty cold in my room, so they were all hibernating. They did not come to a good end, but seriously, what did they expect? Not every place of refuge is as safe as the nest you make yourself.<br />
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I think the next thing is the dress I made myself, out of bee fabric. I was literally covered in bees. I may have gotten this out of order, but I don't know if I made the bee dress while I was in college, or later, when I started quilting. I still have the dress! And it fits, again. But the background color for the bees is a little bit too low-contrast with my milky white flesh, so I want to add a high-contrast trim.<br />
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And in the final story of bees, my brother kept bees. He did not keep them very well, but he wasn't in tip-top shape anymore. While I was out gathering eggs one day, I said to myself, "that's a funny sound," and looked up from my normal introspective trance.<br />
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BEES EVERYWHERE! SWARMING ALL AROUND ME! I was not brave, I just dropped to the ground, flat on my back, and watched the bees get their act together to move to a new home. Eventually they went away. Eventually I crawled up off the ground, and went on with my life. I saw another bee hive swarm this summer, in my new backyard. It's kind of amazing, but the bees are, as always, not that concerned with anything other than bees.<br />
<br />
So I have been covered in bees since way back when, and it's kind of an in-joke with everyone who has ever seen me in that dress. <br />
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I have also pretended, on many occasions which are totally rated G, to have a finger of joy. I can't remember why. Usually I try to turn that frown upside down, but I am very judicious in this use, because if the finger of joy ever does not work, I am sure it will be broken forever. And sometimes people want to hold on to that frown.<br />
<br />
And I try not to be bitter. I try really hard, over and over and over about all sorts of things that happen to me, and to other people. Yesterday, I was very bitter that Steve Jobs died. Mostly that everybody in the world is sad or has whatever mixed feelings that they have about it. I am glad Steve Jobs was born. <br />
<br />
But I have snapped, and the bitterness load I have been carrying broke me. Again. And I tried to find a silver lining. And I have. But it is hard to explain, in words.<br />
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But the strange certainty that I am not alone seems less strange every day.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-17004103682810572382011-10-06T06:00:00.000-07:002011-10-06T06:00:10.111-07:00Simon Pegg and Nick Frost<span id="goog_842894108"></span><span id="goog_842894109"></span>Either Simon Pegg, or Nick Frost is one of my imaginary boyfriends, but I have a lot of trouble deciding which one. They can both have an imaginary cupcake! Consalud.<br />
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This is one of my more serious existential dilemmas, and, frankly, I am tired of worrying about it. I have restricted myself to one imaginary boyfriend per movie. I don't have enough time for more than one boyfriend at a time! And these two fellows are consistently appearing in vids together. They take my breath away. And I need that breath for the laughter!<br />
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I first saw them in Shaun of the Dead, which was HILARIOUS. I'm not a big fan of zombie or horror or slasher films. The suspense is always trying to kill me! Or they are lame.<br />
<br />
But this movie opened my eyes up to the joy of the macabre horror that is zombies. Well, ok, I saw another funny zombie movie once. I don't like grody movies, there is no eraser for my brain! That other movie had an ear falling into some soup, and let me just say yech! And I'm sorry for inflicting that horrible mental image on you too, ha ha ha. <br />
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That other movie (BrainDead by Peter Jackson) was pretty cute, other than the grody decomposing flesh. And had the most awesome kick-boxing priest ever. But it did not have Nick Frost or Simon Pegg in it. As far as I know.<br />
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Simon and Nick also did a movie called Hot Fuzz, which was a cop/buddy movie which I also adore. Watch Point Break first, just saying. It's got Patrick Swayze AND Keanu Reeves in it... and heck, now that I look it up it has everybody else in the WORLD in it. Sorry, I didn't really notice the first time around. I like Hot Fuzz better, but Point Break isn't trying to be funny. There's some parachuting in PB. And OMG, there's a remake coming out in two years! Or a sequel? If there was anything broke, they'll probably fix it. And vice versa. <br />
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You might also enjoy another buddy/cop movie referenced in Hot Fuzz, Bad Boys II. I will probably watch this someday and fall in love with somebody in it. I'll get back to you on that later! And there is probably a movie with Simon and or Nick available to watch right now that I haven't yet heard of. Go see it too! You'll probably get to it before me, because I am extremely half-assed about watching, or promoting movies I have not yet heard of.<br />
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I'd like to do a little chart with pros and cons on Nick and Simon, but I'm pretty crap at the graphics, if you haven't figured that out by now.<br />
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Simon is more cheeky, but Nick is plenty cheeky. Nick seems like he has more innate goofy charm, but it is a close call. It's pretty much a toss up on looks, and who cares, really, because they are obviously going to fight for me, mano a mano, and I'll have to take the winner, like it or lump it. Or both! And then sneak off to nurse the loser back to health, so I can wrestle anew with my unquenchable and conflicting desires. <br />
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Simon and Nick will probably star in a movie just like this soon. CAN'T WAIT. Hopefully I will finish writing it next week. I think they will be gladiators, and I am either a slave girl, or a princess. Probably both, just like Carrie Fisher.<br />
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It is possible that I will sniff in a pathetic way over my cocoa because they are busy doing other things, like movies and comedy shorts and interviews and stuff. Hey, cocoa and more fun stuff to watch? Totally win-win.<br />
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I still haven't seen everything they have done, together and separately, so I've got a lot of catching up to do.<br />
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For some reason, I can't think of anything more to say about Nick Frost and Simon Pegg. Inconceivable! It's far more likely that there are just no words good enough. I'll find one from my list of inexplicably legal scrabble words, for a contrived sense of closure.<br />
<br />
cete - noun. a number of badgers together. Or maybe something about whales? I love that this word exists, and I hate it with a fury that I can not explain. My fury will not be stopped! But it will die out in a second or two, when I start giggling about badgers.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-17222186414417720772011-10-05T06:00:00.000-07:002011-10-05T06:00:07.394-07:00Fashion and toastI am sort of a big fan of fashion. And by that, I literally mean clothes. And Not Very Much of a fan.<br />
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I like clothes! I wants them, they are my precious.<br />
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Without them I would be very, very naked. Or cold. Or both! I do not look on this prospect with much favor.<br />
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I know a lot of marvelous girls who say that everybody has a fashion sense, and it took me a long time to accept this as truth, given my natural interest level.<br />
<br />
But eventually I realized that I was not wandering around in public in a warm fuzzy poncho with no pants, so I was obviously making SOME sort of sacrifice for the sake of fashion.<br />
<br />
I should probably disclose that the garment I most frequently wear is a small fuzzy poncho, but it doesn't cover much and I never wear it all by itself. I also like a warm fuzzy bathrobe, but that opening and closing and fastening closed business seems a little fussy! Plus the sash is lumpy when you go to lie down.<br />
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The fashion statement I have been trying to make with my clothes has been partly successful. It's somewhere between "mostly harmless" and "not as sexy as you think. These are not the breasts you are looking for."<br />
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But I have decided that I need to step it up a notch, because people find me very confusing, and unexpectedly delightful.<br />
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I don't know why, I'm not that good at keeping a secret. Don't tell anyone I said so.<br />
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With the the intention of reducing my stress, I figure my best bet is a tiara, a baby-doll style bridesmaid gown, and a set of crab leg pants. Ok, really, I think this will reduce someone else's stress, but at least it would be clear that I am probably not what you expect!<br />
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Right now I'm just concentrating on clothes that fit, that I don't hate too much. I am getting a lot more out of clothing, now that my standards are actually barely above rock bottom. <br />
<br />
And I am now going to reveal my hypothetical halloween costume, since scheduling conflicts will probably prevent me from attending any party. (Which I totally regret! I think I have been invited to TWO parties ALREADY this year. But I will probably be out of town.)<br />
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I will get my rotating marshmallow toasting fork, stick a piece of toast on it, and go as a toast rack, or a toaster. I was going to make a toast necklace, and go as toast, but I can not figure out how to come up with artificial toast, and real toast is way to crumby to wear.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7340849636942943039.post-49080007195632456342011-10-04T06:00:00.000-07:002011-10-04T09:36:42.109-07:00Change.org, Pakistan, and popular news coverage.Pakistan, you got screwed. Will this a virtual cupcake make it any better?<br />
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I saw it coming, a long way off. Back when I could still stand to watch news coverage. <br />
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It was being repeatedly reported that insurgents were 'escaping' across the border. Into Pakistan. Or maybe Iran. And the pursuers were 'diplomatically' discouraged from playing 'monkey see, monkey do!' <br />
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And the news coverage appeared to be implying that Pakistan was being totally unreasonable. <br />
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I got a bad feeling in my stomach. I actually prayed that no natural disaster would hit Pakistan, before I even understood my belief in God. Because my country is usually very generous with its time and resources, in cases of emergency. But not for 'the bad guys'.<br />
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I do not know if somewhere in Pakistan, there are safe havens for terrorists. I don't entirely blame the news media for giving me this impression. They just tell us what other people are suggesting.<br />
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And I'll tell you that I don't care. We have plenty of safe havens for terrorists in our own country, in case you hadn't noticed. Sometimes we even grow our own. We are not without sin, and I am tired of all this casting stones business.<br />
<br />
I know how people in my country would feel if armed hooligans, or sanctioned government representatives, followed other possibly armed hooligans. INTO my country.<br />
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We'd feel the same way Pakistan does. And no disparity of confidence or competence justifies expecting Pakistan to respond any differently.<br />
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News like that isn't really why I can't stand to watch news coverage anymore. Reality TV is responsible for that. Responsible news coverage is apparently supposed to appear to be without bias. It is boring. Or horrifying. I am beginning to think it is also irresponsible. There is always an opinion, love it or hate it. Or both. <br />
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And PS, sharing that opinion with the people you know does make a difference. Facebook counts. Some of these people will write letters to congress. Some of them will get out and vote. Just like you do. <br />
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I live in the NW, and frequently, we get a minor earthquake. The news is ALL over it for a couple of very boring hours. "Some bricks fell off this building." "A few cans fell off the shelf at this convenience store! Then somebody put them back on the shelf." "Government officials are evaluating the damage to bridges, overpasses, and elevated roadways!" Sorry the visual carnage is so unconvincing.<br />
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Televised news is trying harder. We have award-winning coverage in my region, and I believe it. <br />
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The problem, I feel, is that crime rates have dropped over the last twenty years. People love to watch 'bad' news. But you have to reach harder to FIND bad news, because there are fewer violent crimes. <br />
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They're switching to working on other fears. Like maybe the super-rich are getting away with something! <br />
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That seems pretty cruel to me. Frankly, the super-rich are usually convinced of this already, consciously or unconsciously. And if they do not rationally understand or respect their income, they have no way to trust that it is ethically justified. Or that they can earn more, if something happens to their super-wealth.<br />
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And the rest of us do not need to worry ANY more that we are being exploited. I'm ok with a certain amount of worry on the subject! Or, more to the point, concerned attention to the problem. We can 'work' on it.<br />
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I do expect the super-rich to pay taxes. I think that they could relieve some fears this way, but I'm beginning to believe that paying it forward would not satisfy that particular anxiety. I can't figure out any way to relieve someone's natural but irrational anxieties. <br />
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Not even my own.<br />
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Change.org is a pretty cool website, but I don't love it. You can find out, on change.org, about all the completely horrifying stuff happening, anywhere in the world. And register an official online protest.<br />
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I can only bring myself to protest stuff that is also logically inconsistent. I had to unsubscribe from their newsletter because the horrifying stuff out there in the world is, to me, an intellectual equivalent of most episodes of <u>Three's Company</u>.<br />
<br />
Which I also cannot watch.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0