How can they tell me now that the chocolates that I am totally addicted to are out of season until November? Chocolate is never is out of season.
Also, files this under “I’m glad I’m not in HS anymore”: Student arrested as a terrorist for writing a story about Zombies. No sir, I wasn’t using those civil liberties and here let me turn in my creative license while we’re at it.
The comment spam has shifted from drugs to kinky stuff. I was wondering when that would occur.
Filed by joy at 3:47 pm under ubergeek
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MISCHIEF.� MAYHEM.� ICE.
What happens first is you can’t sleep. What happens then is there’s a skate on your foot.
First rule of Skate Club: You talk about Skate Club.
Second rule of Skate Club: You MUST talk about Skate Club.
TONIGHT is Skate Club. Be there.
(more…)
Filed by joy at 11:50 am under life
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“…always bring me down.”
That song was sung last night at Dan & Jeff’s Karaoke birthday party, which was fun, even if the drinks were mild and overpriced. I did not sing. After three drinks, I still lacked the courage.
As I am in a deep funk today, instead of whinging about it, here’s a few things I’ve found lately for your linking pleasure:
A fine outline comparing three cities, one in China, one in Japan, and one in New Jersey. If you go to the main page, also look at the photos.
The word on the whole mommy blog fluster of late.
This is a bit older, but cool. Marc and Jenna turned their hotel into a camera obscura. They also had a pre-demolition party this weekend at their new old house and we all got to paint the walls, ceiling, floors, and generally make a beautiful mess. It was way fun. I hope pictures will follow.
Another from Dvorak: the simplified keyboard.
Oh, you thought I was done before the politics set in. Ha. Oliver Willis and, of course, Riverbend make it easy to simply link instead of trying to write up how awful things will be when Iraq becomes a misogynist state like Iran, and how proud I am that America made it that way. *puke*
Filed by joy at 3:28 pm under visuals
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It seems I cannot hide from them. The Texas Hold’em Poker and the Cialis peddlers and the rest…sigh. Frankly, I’m quite fond of the size of my penis, and since that elusive “she” they keep talking about has no complaints, why won’t they leave me alone! Although, I hear that the pills do work, in case inquiring minds want to know.
So, all my dear wonderful commenters, who are so kind as to let me know they are reading, have to be filtered through those out to destroy freedom, the internets, and everything in between. Please keep commenting anyway.
____
I recently read The curious incident of the dog in the night-time which it seems everyone including Ian’s mum is reading (Hullo!), so I’m right on with the newest latest. Daniel Tammet is a savant recently written about in the Guardian. I’m thrilled that he’s creating his own language and can shed light on a truly misunderstood subject, yet, my favorite part of the story, beyond all the breathtaking genius and struggle, is that he’s found someone to love. Add to that the way that the Guardian doesn’t bother to point out that this isn’t a heterosexual relationship, and you have a quietly newsworthy piece of life journalism. A rare find.
Filed by joy at 4:13 pm under random
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I got quite a lot of music when Hector and Renee visited, much of it reminded me of my darker days. Not in a glum way, in a wearing a lot of black way. Damn, I love the Sisters of Mercy cover of Pink Floyd’s Comfortably Numb, but…well… God Hates the Scene, yo.
Heeeelarious. Thanks Erik!
Filed by joy at 11:45 pm under life
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The gigapxl project is not only technologically amazing, but he’s taking the road trip I have always wanted to take, and the pictures as well. Beautiful…
Wired explains it well.
Filed by joy at 9:58 am under visuals
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It is summer and hippos are mating in the lake behind my paternal grandmother’s house in upstate NY. I can watch them from inside from a second floor window and they are beautiful, with their nostrils flaring, wet, brown-purple skin. Outside, several people are watching, mostly from the water’s edge. Some jock is laughing and play-mocking the hippos nearby in thigh-deep water, thrusting his bright swimtrunked hips back and forth, fists on his waist. Annoyed at the jock, I wander to another room.
My aunt Jude is somewhere in the house, though I don’t remember talking to her directly. I end up in the study with a basket of books that are hers, or that she had made. I spent some time looking at one of the books, which had an embroidered sort of cover, very beautiful. The texture of the thread and paper is pleasant to the touch as I run my fingers down the spine.
Late evening, I look out the window again. It’s a door and the water has risen; the wading hippos’ skin glints in the moonlight; the gawkers are gone. The water is seeping under the door, sloshing over the metal jamb plate and soaking the first few inches of the beige nubbly-short 60s carpet. My toes are bare and the water is just warm enough to feel good on them.
I realized I was dreaming, so I tried to hold on, telling myself the dream, except I was still dreaming, so I simply shifted into a present day space and continued dreaming. There were at least two other scenes before waking this morning, and the last one was good, but I’ve lost it in trying to remember the first sequence.
The house was nothing like my grandmother’s actual house, including being three stories high and decorated much more casually. (She’d never have that beige carpet! She had wood floors.) The window from which I could see the hippos was an echo of the window of her kitchen that looked out on the little upstairs porch over the back yard that wasn’t a lake at all. The window wasn’t in a kitchen in the dream, so it didn’t have the ever-present tomatoes ripening on the sill. That yard felt huge when I was small and gazed out as a child. The trees marking the edge of the property seemed so far away then, and were no where in the dream. The hippos were rather closer to the house even than the treeline.
___
I’ve had other intriguing dreams this past week, but can only recall orphaned moments. One took place in the house of pink. We had just taken down a wall, revealing a large 50’s era closet behind it. It had built in drawers and shelves as well as hanging rods. One shelf had around a dozen small cigar-style boxes (too small for actual cigars) and I wanted to look in all of them. There were at least three dresses hanging up, all belonging to a bridal party. The dresses were a morphing of my maternal grandmother’s 1930’s short wedding dress with small ruffles along the skirt from waist to hem, but with a lace top and sleeves. The closet had other wonders which I can’t bring back to the surface of memory. Imaginary hidden spaces, lost in time, now lost completely.
Filed by joy at 10:46 am under dreams
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I had myself quite a time a Peduto’s Ice Skating party last night. I have fond memories of the Schenley Oval, despite an ill-fated early birthday party there which found me face-first on the ice with a bloody lip. Kinda skipped on the politics actually, and went directly for the rink. Peduto ain’t bad, but I do think it’s pussy to try to run for both mayor and city council at the same time. Put your huevos in the basket, my friend. As the mayoral race heats up, I need to do more homework on the subject, but not when I could enjoy a perfect winter night with Jude, Zig and her friend Emay.
Despite not having skated since back in the Hallmark days, I didn’t fall down once, even though I dressed for the worst. I zipped myself into the still-unstylish snowpants I wore back in high school during my brief stint with the ski club. With my padded butt and bunny hat, I was quite a picture.
To be fair, the evening was one funny picture after another. The little kids these days learn to skate by pushing orange traffic cones around in front of them and it’s beyond adorable. Jude was a whiz at this and his happiness was contagious. He had competition in the cute department ranging from lil’ Wayne Gretsky, all of maybe six years old in complete hockey set, skating like he was born to it. Then there was the other shorty in the best hat ever: a black knit cap with a bright blue fauxhawk stripe. Niiiiice.
On another end of the entertainment spectrum was a gentleman who I’ve (rather cruelly) dubbed “Dance 10, Looks 3“. He was a master on ice, clearly showing skill and equally clearly enjoying the admiration and attention it brought him. I am a sucker for talent, and probably smiled brightly as he put on his show. He must’ve noticed my watching and during his pause off by the side rail, he gave me a nod as I skated past him. Um…dude, you rock the ice, but you could also probably be my dad. It made for a good laugh once I tore back around the oval to share my tale with the ladies.
The music was that bizarre public-forum mix of generations and styles, from Ricky Martin and RuPaul to some 50’s-ish rock’n'roll. Emay and I nearly wiped out trying to actually dance (read: wiggle on skates) when Lady Marmalade came on. That song is way too fun to skate to and it’s just a shame that I only managed to relearn how to do basic skate circles right at the end of the night.
Must go do that again. Simply must.
Filed by joy at 10:47 pm under life
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