June 2004 Archives
Kevin's "celebrating one year of hard core suckitude" by giving you the chance to vote for the worst Bonfire of the Vanities post of the last year.
Fact: When you're trying to download a 498 MB file, the last 20 MB will take longer than the first 478 did. Also, accidentally kicking yourself off the internet doesn't help.
Figures: Diana Taurasi's impact on the WNBA in the stands, at the register, and on the court.
Fact: Total hours sleep lost due to anxiety over lack of internet access and/or events on The L Word = 13
Figures: What happens and what to do if you win the lottery. (via Dave)
Fact: My roommate looks like Kevin Smith, if Kevin Smith were Indian.
Figures: Ridership for the opening weekend of the Hiawatha Light Rail Line (when rides were free) was over 90,000. (That's good.) During commute times, drivers are having to wait as much as 15 minutes to cross or to turn onto/off of Hiawatha Ave/Hwy 55 because of the effect trains have on traffic signals. (That's bad.)
Somehow, during the course of an 8.5-hour day of work in the recent past, I managed to develop a little crush on my supervisor.
I'm sorry, was I supposed to be blogging? I've been ogling Jennifer Beals.
I have no words for The L Word. I've downloaded all the episodes (finally, 7GB is a lot of downloading). I've been trying to blog about this for over a week and I get totally overwhelmed every time. Seriously, every time I go to write about this show (or anything else), I get stuck. I have emails to send. Phone calls to make. TV to watch. But I'm obsessed with this show.
I'm just gonna have to cough up for whatever cable package I have to get to get Showtime, because this is my new favoritest show EVER. The first season comes out on DVD in November at which time I will be purchasing it.
I've been moody and angsty for days and it's totally because of this show. I hate Jenny and Tim. Fucking rat dog Jenny and her fucking tights and fucking dumbass Tim get way too much air time, but everything and everyone else is superb. There are terrific laugh and cry moments in every episode. (Now having seen where The Weakness In Me was used in the show, I think the Joan Armatrading version was much more appropriate.)
I've gone through Showtime's site and The L Word Online and the complete breakdown on AfterEllen.com. I cannot get enough. I'm gonna just have to go back to the beginning and start watching them all over again. And again and again. Scribe Grrrl's recaps on AfterEllen.com are hilarious and right on. (And she's from Minneapolis! We both perked up at Bette's mention of an art show coming to the Walker.)
I've also picked up a new favorite word: Pusse. Heh. If you're already a fan of the show, make sure you check out the story about the banana, the tank top tribute, and the WTF!Glasses.
But JESUS CHRIST can we talk about Jennifer Beals?! And Laurel Holloman! And Jennifer Beals and Laurel Holloman! And Erin Daniels!
And. I never thought I'd say this. I can't believe I'm about to say this. My long-standing total adoration for Lucy Lawless is well known. But. *deep breath* She's about to be kicked to the curb for Jennifer Beals. Maybe Jennifer can be #1A and Lucy can be #1B. Jennifer Beals leaves me speechless. She can say it all with one look, from Bette's orgasm face to her despair when that crazy right wing bitch said such horrible things to her on tv. Not to mention the Scully suits and that radiant smile. *swoon*
But besides all the hot chicks, there are some great characters, brilliantly acted, and with great chemistry (except for rat dog Jenny). The last 10 minutes of the season finale made me cry and want to throw up (and I will not spoil it for you if you're interested in watching). Good lawdamighty.
New. Favorite. Show.
Okay, I'm officially bored with Plain Layne now. Way too much drama. Lookeehyeah lookeehyeah, the guy behind Layne and Acanit has come forward with his story. The archives have been reconstructed, but now they're unavailable. Even now that I know she's a fake, I'd still like to finish reading through the archives. It was a good story. Oh well.
This wasn't nearly as deep for me as it was for some of the regular Plain Layne readers, but Scott McGerik put it in a context that sort of nailed the feeling. He talks of being in a chatroom community whose members (most of them, anyway) felt a definite sense of betrayal when it was revealed that one person had been faking it. I've met all but a couple of these chicas and I'd sure as hell be mad if, after 4.5 years of daily communication, I found out somebody had been lying all along.
Does this make me too trusting of folks I meet on the internet? Maybe. I haven't yet had a personal experience to challenge my perception of those I've become attached to. I guess the sketchiest folks are the ones that you don't meet.
Doesn't really explain why I even remotely cared about this Layne thing, but oh well. Mystery solved. I'm over it now.
Another one for the "Make Sweet Love Down by the Fire" mix: In My Secret Life* by Leonard Cohen.
I saw you this morning.
You were moving so fast.
Can’t seem to loosen my grip
On the past.
And I miss you so much.
There’s no one in sight.
And we’re still making love
In My Secret Life.
Okay, so I didn't go anywhere today. My friend came over last night and we talked and drank a little too much and fell asleep watching a movie (Weekend at Bernie's came free with the pizza, how did I not remember what a terrible movie that is?). So I was up late after that, slept all day, and right now I don't much feel like battling the crowds downtown. Not by myself, anyway.
I was checking out Women's Hoops Blog and found out that Michelle van Gorp, although she has been out for a long time, has "officially" come out with a big spread in Minnesota's Lavender magazine. All the Lynx season ticket holders got invited to walk next to her car in tomorrow's Pride parade. I could see the parade and still make it to work on time, but I don't think I'll be going to that either.
I played against her in high school once. We got killed, and I specifically remember her as being waaaay taller than everybody and pretty much the star of their team.
Not the golf course. Twin Cities Pride is this weekend. I think I'll be hoofin' it downtown to wander about on my own on Saturday.
This week's City Pages has an article on "How the Twin Cities Pride fest helped turn Minneapolis into the San Francisco of the wheat belt."
At some point during the 2004 Twin Cities Pride festival, perhaps as the Psychedelic Furs are dusting off "Love My Way" for tipsy block partiers, or as you wander through the sea of vendors and corporate sponsors in Loring Park, you might marvel at how far the thing has come. Last year, an estimated 400,000 people--a gathering greater than the population of Minneapolis--attended the multi-event festival, making it the third-largest Pride celebration in the nation. That figure also represented an increase of some 399,950 over the first local Pride march 32 years ago. Then, there was no organizing committee, no budget, and no thought of a parade permit. There were just a few brave souls who walked down Nicollet Avenue carrying Gay Power and Gay Pride signs, confounding passersby as they took into their own hands the advancement of the Twin Cities' fledgling gay liberation movement.
What follows is an anecdotal history of Pride and the local GLBT activism associated with it, as recalled by some of the players and some of the observers.
Crusty Old Dyke said she has a booth reserved for her scam business in Loring Park somewhere, so maybe I'll pick myself up a free energy drink. It was kind of funny, we were in the office one day last week at break time, surrounded by five other people, including our two bosses. I mentioned that I was working this Sunday, and she said, "Oh, so you'll miss the festivities!" And we proceeded to have an entire conversation about it without once saying exactly what it was. Heh.
There are three different events occurring in Michigan this summer that I would/should have attended. Except that I needed the price of airfare on Northwest to be $200 or less so I could cover the ticket plus the $100 change fee with the credit I have.
In the two months of monitoring ticket prices since I obtained the credit plus about two months before that, an MSP-DTW round trip never dropped below $250. Until today, when the first event has already passed, the second event is tonight and the third is next weekend.
Fuckin' bastards. Out of the eight cities I have on my watchlist, Detroit is the closest and has been by far the most expensive. It's a scratchafrickin' hub-to-hub flight! There are something like 14 flights a day between Minneapolis and Detroit! Northwest, why must you gouge me and run all the other discount airlines out of town?! Fuckin' bastards.
One click over to Ping-o-Matic will allow you to notify all the various services out there when you've updated. [Note: This is different than pinging other bloggers' individual entries. Services like Blogrolling use services like weblogs.com to gather your "I've updated" info so they can indicate your status.]
If you use a blogging tool where you can specify/add services to ping (like blo.gs, GeoURL, Technorati, etc.), now you can use Ping-o-Matic to ping all those services with one single XML-RPC call.
So basically you're pasting one address — http://rpc.pingomatic.com/ — into your "ping them when I update" box instead of a whole bunch. When I first started using this I was still getting the usual ping timeout or failure errors, but lately I haven't been. And as far as I can tell every service is getting the info correctly (Yahoo wasn't for a while).
I have no idea what I did to my computer, but I can't seem to get on the internet from home. I farted around with the modem and the router to no avail. I can see the wireless network just fine, just no connection. I took my laptop to the coffee shop today and I could also see their network just fine, but I still couldn't get on the internet.
I don't recall changing any settings on my computer, so I have no idea what's wrong with it. I'm limited to whatever I can get done at work, which ain't much.
No email, no web browsing, no Gnutella, no weather update, no nada. And no land line to dial up to. I have communication needs! I have business to conduct!
*twitch*
UPDATE: Crisis averted! I was messing around with my firewall and I think I set something I didn't intend to set when I restarted my computer (which I never usually have to do). I just re-ran the setup assistant in BrickHouse and got online immediately.
I've said it before and I'll say it again. A life without internet access is not a life I want to lead.
Emily told me this the other day. It's been crackin' me up like Russell did.
What's in Snoop Dogg's weather forecast?
A new guy started last week. I presume he's Rainman's replacement. I have the responsibiliity of training him. He works my same schedule for the next few months.
I can tell already he's not dumb. He's a good learner. He asks good questions. When I tell him what to do or how to do something, he pretty much gets it without too much trouble. He gets the "why," not just the "what."
We're gonna need to work on this personal interaction, though. I don't know if it's a cultural thing or what. I don't know if it's ignorant or presumptuous to think that. Hear me out.
Dave tells me about some weird shit sometimes.
I Spent My Last $10.00 (on Birth Control and Beer) by Two Nice Girls
When I was a young girl like normal girls do
I looked to a woman's love to help get me through
I never needed any more than a feminine touch
I hated the thought of kissing a man it really was too much
I did not drink, I did not smoke I did not say "goddamn"
I was polite I was sensitive before I loved a man
My family, they were proud of me were proud of what I am
But then along came Lester and my tell of woe began
I didn't realize how much I don't normally have to think at work until the end of the day yesterday when my brain was totally fried.
UPDATE: So, they give these little things out at work called "Thataways." Anybody can give one to anybody else for whatever reason. But most people think they're just dumb so not that many get given out. Anyway, my boss gave me one for all my hard work yesterday. I was inexplicably touched. I think all the Thataway recipients get put in a drawing for a $5 or $10 gift cert each quarter. Woo! Somebody stop me.
I've been paying my roommate the rent in cash. It's the only way I can guarantee he gets his. I could transfer the money directly into his account, but I don't know how he wants to handle it or where he wants to put it. If I give him a check, there's no guarantee it'll clear in a timely fashion. There are other payments that are automatically deducted around the time rent is due and if he doesn't pull his money out in time, it'll be gone.
Yesterday I handed him the rent for this month. He gets it in big bills because who wants to walk around with a fat wad of $20s? Not me. As I handed it to him, he thanked me, and then said he still had all the $100 bills I had given him before and he felt like such a high roller.
That's at least three months worth of rent. Over $1000. Money that he doesn't need to have in his account to get by. Okay, he did just spend a month in Asia entirely on expense account which he said did wonders for his budget. But still. I just got paid on Friday and aside from the $103 dollars I'm reserving to pay my car insurance, I've got about $50 until next payday, and that's only because I'm choosing to pay two other bills late.
So I don't feel so guilty anymore about having to occasionally pay him late. Where by "occasionally" I mean "pretty much every month."
Jen is planning on going with some of her friends to get a tattoo. She's the most likely to chicken out. It's really not that bad. One's ability to selectively forget how much it hurts is amazing. After three days, when the pain goes away, you will be ready for the next one.
The last time I brought this up, I decided that my lower back was the next target. Steven suggested a Maori design. While I have no idea exactly what kind of Maori design I would pick, I think that's an excellent idea. You know, me being not Maori at all. But I haven't seen any German or African-American (because I ain't African, yo, and I hardly "feel" African-American most of the time) or Choctaw or Cherokee symbolism I'm dying to emulate. Sheee-it, this would be way easier if I were Jewish or some kind of Asian something.
I think I'd definitely need moral support for something as extensive as I'm picturing. It'd be safe for onlookers. I think poor Carla might have seen a little more than she wanted to see when she went with me the last time. It was on the front of my hip. Think about that. And I was not allowed to have company when I got the first one. The one 'round my arm. The artist said he needed to concentrate and would barely even talk to me. Instead I counted dots on the drop ceiling, trying desperately not to pass out, while my friend sat in the waiting room.
The next candidate after my lower back is the inside of my left forearm. It has to be the left to balance the existing one on my right arm. Even though the Taurus is on my left hip. And my eyebrow is pierced on the left. Shit.....
But seriously. Go for it. Do it. None of your tattoos will be visible at your open casket funeral anyway. But how cool would it be if it was? We all get old and saggy. We're not gonna be "beautiful" forever. Who the fuck cares? Why not have something that you're proud of? Besides, my hip tattoo was strategically selected because that's a spot that's not likely to become horribly disfigured if I gain/lose a significant amount of weight or skin elasticity (unlike my arm, but hey, that's incentive to work out, eh?).
What tattoos do you want? What tattoos do you have? Forget the pain and the perception for a minute. What would you be willing to permanently mark your body with? Is it big? Small? Visible to everyone/anyone? Or only those you choose to show? Does it mean anything? Or does it just look neat to you?
Have I mentioned how much I lurve me some Shawty (aka Lachlan, aka my so-called blog)? I do. And I have a special affinity for Ms. Bayou, too. Even though I've met neither.
Hey, Dave and Kelley and KathyHowe all turned out to be super cool.
So are Kimberley and Mel and Dee and Tea and Sherri and other blog-less online peeps I've met.
I lurve me some Guster, too. And everybody on my blogroll. And everyone I may have chatted with tonight. For real. Just sayin'.
(I know my sister is totally laughing at me. Shut up, Emily. I love you, too.)
A Minnesota Air National Guard crew was witness to the Pentagon and Pennsylvania crashes on September 11, 2001.
They were on their way back to Minnesota from a training mission in the USVI, via Washington, D.C. Shortly after taking off from Washington, they were contacted by air traffic controllers to aid in the tracking of one unaccounted-for flight. They watched the American 77 crash into the Pentagon, and reported it, thinking they had seen an accident. They tuned into an AM radio station to try to get some information about what they had seen, heard about NYC, and then realized it was an attack. As they continued on towards home, they were contacted again by air traffic controllers for help in locating United 93. After they spotted that burning wreckage, they were ordered to land in Ohio.
I didn't think I could really feel anymore gut-wrenching on account of September 11, but I was wrong. I can't imagine what it must have been like to be on that plane, either.
I think that link might be subscription only. The full text of the article is below.
A Child's ABCs of Terrorism "W is for the whole wide world, which hates us now. Silly world!"
I saw the headline "Work-life perks are paying off" in the paper today, and I had to laugh because I knew right away it couldn't have possibly been about my company.
The city of Maple Grove is drastically reducing healthcare spending (and thus saving taxpayer money) by encouraging and allowing employees to partake in wellness activities on a regular basis, even during work hours. In the mean time, I'm having a cheap ice cream treat (although I did try a Root Beer Float bar for the first time and it was delicious).
One year ago today I left Blogger for Movable Type. That was a damn fine idea, if I do say so myself.
Dude. The Plain Layne saga has made it on to Metafilter and garnered comment from Jason Kottke. I totally would not be surprised to see a full Layne/Acanit wiki born out of the Orkut community.
I can't stop reading. I need help.
The Weakness In Me* by Joan Armatrading, covered by Melissa Etheridge
It's a good song in its own right, but Melissa Etheridge's delivery is what makes it amazing (and I'm not even a Melissa Etheridge fan).
I'm not the sort of person
Who falls in and quickly out of love
But to you I gave my affection
Right from the start
I have a lover who loves me
How could I break such a heart
Yet still you get my attention
Why do you come here
When you know I've got troubles enough
Why do you call me
When you know I can't answer the phone
You make me lie when I don't want to
And you make someone else some kind of an unknowing fool
And you make me stay when I should not
Are you so strong or is all the weakness in me
Why do you come here
And pretend to be just passing by
But I mean to see you
And I mean to hold you
Tightly
Feeling guilty worried
Waking from tormented sleep
Oh this old love has me bound
But the new love cuts deep
If I choose now I'll lose out
Oh one of you has to fall
And I need you and you
*removed Friday, 6/25/04
I'll be home early from work to watch. A championship will be won tonight. Woot!
UPDATE: Deeeeeeeeee-troit Baaaaaaaaaaaaaad Boooooooooys! WOO!
100-87! You know how you get a score like that and most of the time you can say that the game was closer than the score makes it look? This time the game wasn't nearly as close as that score makes it look.
I wish I had local television to watch.
Eric Neel asks, "How did we get it so wrong?"
I know Stuart Scott did not read an Abraham Lincoln quote on the Civil War and try to relate it to the Lakers.
Rob Peterson blogged the finals for NBA.com.
Must be nice to be Bill Davidson.
Listen to Mason announce! (These will all launch Real Player.) [full team intros] [B-B-B-B-Ben Wallace] [Chauncey B-B-B-B-Billups] [Deeee-troit Basketball!]
Let's Get it Started* by the Black Eyed Peas
*removed Friday, 6/25/04
Bonfire of the Vanities #50 is up at Spot On, who seems to think either some of these posts didn't suck, or some sucked really hard.
I was just saying that I had gotten into reading Plain Layne. Her site has been down and showing some weird Polish server error message for almost a week, so I googled to see if she mysteriously changed locales and took the in-crowd with her, leaving us casuals in the dust.
Turns out there's all sorts of speculation that she doesn't actually exist. That she is a fictional construct, possibly written by a male. And apparently lots of people have thought that, mainly based on her refusal to meet up with any other MN bloggers or even have any contact beyond email or the rare IM.
Anyway if you have nothing to do and would like to delve into a total blog soap opera, start with "The Perils of Plain Layne" and click around from there. There's even an orkut group. I'm sucked into the mystery even more than I was sucked into the drama of the blog. And it's got a local connection!
Joshua has the bulk of the speculating and sleuthing and creative googling where the juiciest data is finally revealed. David Grenier also has an in-depth analysis.
It seems the partial answer is that whoever is writing "Layne" also wrote a blog several years ago under the name "Acanit." The writing styles and life situations are way too similar to be a mere coincidence. "Acanit" was last known to be moving to St. Paul, and then suddenly she disappeared. Shortly after, "Layne" appeared on the scene. There is also a connection, though not solidly defined, between a web startup company "Layne" used to work for and said company providing webhosting for both "Layne" and "Acanit."
Or something like that. I haven't been reading long enough to have her personal history down pat.
All I can think about as I keep reading through it all is that this is So. Fucked. Up. To carry out this whole scheme. Although, to call it a scheme makes it sound more dastardly than it is. Nobody was really hurt or taken for anything. Other than lots of time spent reading and maybe some emotional investment on the part of a more than a few. To quote Smokey, "Quit playing with my emotions!" Whoever is behind this is an amazing writer and storyteller. And clearly pathological. I'm amazed by it all.
Stay tuned....
I love IMAP. Why was I dicking around with POP? Synchronize, synchronize, synchronize. I never realized how easy it was to switch (very). I never responded to messages from work because I didn't want to have anything not copied to where I wanted it (now it is). There is the problem of not being able to access my stored messages when my host has an issue or my internet connection is down. Let's hope that doesn't happen. Much. [I typed this up yesterday. My host was down for a bit today. Figures.]
Pause to backup files.... Get sucked into research on database and full site backups and cron jobs.... Done!
With the addition of Gmail to my repertoire, I was thinking about the number of email addresses I have and how many of those I use and do I really need all of those? Dave was thinking the same thing. Let's count the accounts, shall we?
Warning: I bored myself to sleep re-reading this, but who am I to self-censor?
Crusty Old Dyke has been raving about this new business she's starting up. She's been handing out catalogs and free product at work. Mostly energy drinks and bars and that kind of stuff. She even invited everyone to an open house.
The other day she mentioned that it's going so well she'll be able to quit working here much sooner than she anticipated. I don't know what that timeline is, but it sounds promising. I asked her for some info. I wasn't at all intending to join up, but I was curious to see what this was all about.
The envelope she left contained two glossy brochures, one presentation printed off the web, an energy bar, and a 15-minute cassette with that Rich Dad, Poor Dad guy on the front. Ate the energy bar. Never listened to the tape. Found the name of the business: Quixtar.
60 seconds of Googling reveals that...
On my way back from Taco Bell there was a multitude of cops pulling people over on I-394. Probably folks heading out of downtown on their way home. I figured since I was in time-killing mode I'd just set the cruise control and mosey on home at the speed limit.
There are two lanes in each direction on this particular highway (I'm now heading north on US-169 if any of the yokels care to know), so I get in the right lane and stay there. Predictably, plenty of people were passing me. Ordinarily I cannot tolerate this, but today it was fine.
I was most of the way home when I noticed this one car pulling up behind me. There were cars in the left lane, so it couldn't get over to pass me just yet. But when the left lane cleared, he stayed behind me. There were no exits coming up, so it's not like he was just impatient to get off the highway. This car was so close I almost couldn't see him out my back window. That's probably more testament to the size of his car relative to mine than the proximity. At any rate, he was really close and showed no sign of getting over.
So I tapped the brake. Probably a little harder than was needed just to flash the taillights, but it wasn't, like, deer-in-the-road or ten-car-pile-up or OH-MY-GOD-that-was-our-exit braking. The little dipshit backed off a little, but stayed behind me.
At that point, I noticed a car entering the highway, so I dutifully got over to the left but did not accelerate. Dipshit also swerved over, staying right on my ass. After passing the entering car, I got back over to the right where my exit was fast approaching.
Dipshit then gunned it until they were just a little bit ahead of me. I couldn't resist the urge to glance over. As you would imagine, the occupants were staring at me like I had committed some kind of Royal Driving Crime. I would have flipped them off if I didn't have a chili-cheese burrito in my free hand.
Shitheads. And then in my neighborhood I had to brake for a skunk to cross the road. I think that was some kind of sign.
My roommate was supposed to return from China tomorrow (Sunday). Time unknown. So I was enjoying my last evening alone in the house. We're having perfect weather right now. Warm, but not too hot or humid. I opened up the windows and the deck door.
And then I hear the garage door. And I hear a voice. "Hello?" He's home a day early. With his new girlfriend (I guess..?) who made him dinner. And he's hanging all over her and she's half-nekkid. Whateva. They asked if I wanted to eat with them, but how is that comfortable? I'll have the leftovers later when they're not around.
I know he was thinking of having whoever's renting this place move in August 1. I don't know how soon he stops working or how soon he's moving out. I hope he's not just hanging around here in the meantime. He's gonna go crazy, and so am I.
Oh, explain to me how this makes sense. He turned on the radio, presumably for them to listen to or for background noise or something. Except then he started playing the guitar. It only took three hours for him to pull out the guitar. Thankfully, he didn't attempt to sing. He must really want this girl to like him.
And now they've turned off all the lights and retired to his boudoir (which is actually clean and smelling like girl since the houseguest-in-his-absence is a clean freak), and I can hear music. If it's loud enough for me to hear from not-directly-underneath-his-room downstairs, then they must be getting ready to mug down. I only know they haven't yet because I can hear him talking. Loud-ass motherfucker.
Damn, I wish I could afford my own place. I think Taco Bell is still open... I'm about to run for the border and kill some time and hopefully they'll be settled in by the time I get back.
We have these "Employee Appreciation Days" periodically at work. Here's a recent announcement:
Reminder!!! EAD is: Thurs, June 17, 2004
On Employee Appreciation Day of each month, the designated group and/or shift supervisor purchases a 'treat'. The EAC will do the following:
1. Send an e-mail to the members of your group reminding you of the upcoming Employee Appreciation Day.
2. Provide the list of anniversaries, birthdays, and new employees for the month.
3. Announce Employee Appreciation Day to all the employees.
Be creative!! Choose something fun or something you really like. The treats can be anything...within budget, of course!
[List of appreciated departments for the month and dollars per department.]
The number of employees and dollars listed above are APPROXIMATE! The amount to spend per person should be right around 75 cents.
Emphasis mine. 75¢. 75 muthafuckin' cents.
We've had ice cream cones once, popsicles once, and Stupidvisor once brought us in Starbucks coffee to brew instead of the industrial esophagus-eating crap we usually drink. Actually, that was the best treat we've had so far.
The Grand Opening of the Hiawatha light rail line is Saturday, June 26. It includes a weekend full of free bus and LRT rides, as well as celebratory events and food at each stop on the line.
Coincidentally, that is the weekend of Twin Cities Pride.*
I work that Sunday afternoon, so unless I switch with someone I won't be attending the Lynx Pride game against the L.A. Sparks (which is listed in the Pride Guide, but mention of the Pride part is conspicuously absent on the Lynx website).
Saturday sounds like a good day to be downtown, though. Too bad I don't live close enough to get on the bus or train in the first place.
A nice summary from the Star Tribune on the employee-benefit issues companies and individuals face surrounding SSM.
I don't know what the hell kind of dream I was just having, but whatever it was made me think I could relieve some intestinal gas by deleting trackbacks.
I'm sorry, who's leading the NBA Finals 2 games to 1? With the next two games still at home? That's right.
Lessee, Kobe had one point at half time and 11 points for the game. Shaq had 14. And the Lakers were held to less than 70 points for the first time in the 560 NBA finals games they've played since the institution of the shot clock.
My mom said they reported on Channel 7 that the Lakers' hotel's parking garage rooftop was full of fans yelling all night, plus there was a parade of honking cars around the hotel until the Birmingham police came and shut it all down. Heh.
Read Ric Bucher's column and then savor the victory.
As for Karl Malone (and Gary Payton, too), maybe if he, I don't know, contributed at all during this series I might be sort of glad for him if they win. Since he's already a multi-millionaire, this pay cut nonsense is not a compelling story to me. Nah, never mind. I don't care if he gets his ring or not.
KathyHowe asked this question a long-ass time ago. At that point I was so not in the mood or frame of mind to answer, but I promised myself I would complete the task.
As a bonus exercise, I will try not to qualify any statement (in writing) (here) (in the same post).
1. My sense of humor. I crack my own shit up.
2. I've done a few things that most people haven't, wouldn't, or won't ever do, but wish they had, would, or could.
3. I have a modicum of inherent athletic ability.
4. I'm comfortable in my own company.
5. The way my ass looks in these jeans.
That took me, like, a week to do. You should try it some time, even if you don't, say, comment here with one item or blog it yourself. Or if you already did it back then, try it again. Come up with five more. Everybody needs a good self-esteem day. I'm trying to talk myself into one. Help me out here.
Dahlia Lithwick (keep the panties briefs, hon) looks back on the O.J. Simpson trial.
With the latest nightly build of Camino, the keystrokes required to page forward/backward and tab forward/backward have changed. Messed me all up. I've been making the computer *ding* all night.
"In essence, everything Diana Taurasi represents is the antithesis of the collective mentality. Governments, of course, are the personification of this collectivist mentality, a paradigm opposed to individualism since antiquity." Um, okay. (via Women's Hoops Blog)
If I had several weeks to take off unpaid and several thousand dollars in tuition, room and board, and airfare, training to be a tour director looks like it would be awesome.
Quote of the Day: "Those who wear lime green ensembles shouldn't throw stones." The whole thing's about WNBA commentating in general, and Ann Meyers in particular, as the wearer of lime green. Okay, you may not care about the subject, but there are lots of other great lines in there.
Apparently, the occasional spoonful of salt increases your ability to sustain a hunger strike. Consuming unrefined sugar and vitamins will help you last even longer.
I finally have my sister's phone number memorized. Now, if my cell phone ever gets lost or dies, I can call either my folks, my grandma, OR my sister. They're all 750 miles away, but that's not the point.
We got word that there will be compensation for this working weekends thing. It's not great and I'll bitch about it later, but at least there is compensation.
My team at work was getting along just fine before, but the addition of Lazy Overachiever to the mix has brought us to a new level of unity against our common enemy. Sunshine Sinatra — optimist to a fault and crooner of tunes — has to work directly with her and even he doesn't like her.
I mentioned to Big Worm (my new line lead that I thought I wasn't gonna like) that I needed to get some car maintenance done and lamented that I wasn't sure what I really needed beyond an oil change, how much it should cost, or how much of a rip-off the package deals at the dealership and various places are. Not only did he run through a list of things with me, he gave me the number of the mechanic he's been seeing for years.
I'm not super excited about training the new guy. It's more work for me and things have been nice and calm and stress-free since Rainman left. But, it's a new skill for me to work on. Plus, Hey Mon told me that he and our supervisor thought that I'm the most responsible person out of all the folks with the skill to do the training. They love me.
Anything you're feeling good about this week?
I reorganized my blogroll in an effort to save myself from the tremendous time suck that random surfing had become. As a result, I've spent the time on random shit instead and I haven't hardly checked in the folks I know I like. I missed all sorts of stuff.
Jane is officially leaving Nevada for Washington. I wanna move to Washington.
Big Fat Hairy Living has a new name, design, and domain name.
Ilyka has a way with words that's so enjoyable to read. Doesn't matter if I agree with her or not.
Dee is making chai brownies. I need gas in my car and a cereal and Slim-Fast restocking, but I might have to shop for these instead.
If I were getting married or having any sort of big To-Do-Da, I'd definitely want to have Rambo Rossi catering.
Empress done hurt herself. That can't be comfortable. Feel better, babe.
Note to self: do NOT mess with S-Train while he's eating. Mmmm... beeeeffff... :9
Chris points me towards yet another source for fun t-shirts. You can never have too many t-shirts, I say.
I would now like to take this opportunity to commend Tiffany on her new job. Go 'head on wit yo bad self, girl.
In the mean time, Shawty and I would both be much appreciative if y'all could send some new job juju our respective ways.
KathyHowe is also injured. Somehow, I have less sympathy for her....
And my sister finally got her crack caulked. I just wanted to use "caulked the crack" in a sentence.