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Thursday, August 21st, 2008
treacle_a
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10:54a
Yahoo!Answers FTW
Here are a few of my recent favourite Q&As from Y!A for your amusement this fine Thursday:
Q: How to increase the sensitivity of my pines?
i used to masturbate daily and am getting married in a while i hope there is a way to increase the senstivty of my pines
A:
You should probably think about chopping down the pines and planting something deciduous, like a silver birch.
But if you're really set on them maybe just hanging some feathers and baubles from them, or a dreamcatcher? That might increase their sensitivity.
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Q: How do I get taco stains out of my muumuu?
Have you ever seen that show "Junkyard Wars"? Well I decided to invited some of my friends from Bingo over to have "Taco Wars"... relatively futile but rather inventive, if I do say so, myself.
I was working on fashioning a glider out of taco shells glued together with refried beans when it all went wrong. Celia decided to try out her taco breath compressor, and upon switching it on, sent grease and bits of melted jalopeño-cheddar cheese flying. Margo got the worst of it, and had to go home to have her husband, Boris, pick the dried pieces out of her newly dyed hair... so, she'll not be coming back for the "Lasagna Bots: Battle Royale" this Wednesday.....
I tried washing it with cold water and baking soda, but the grease stains are stubborn, and I really want to wear it when I pit my Sauce-Slinging Pasta Bot agains Sondra's Ragu Warrior.
A:
Best. Question. EVER.
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Q: In Acting, what is a 'Hard Copy'?
I'm asking because I noticed that one of my friend's casting calls had a 'Hard Copy Only' notice in red letters. What does this mean?
A:
It mean that in auition the actor has to copy someone else and that it hard.
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:) I love Thursday.
current mood:  amused
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(comment on this)
st_salieri
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1:10a
Reason #1,425,149 why I should stay off the internet
Phelps was clearly in a relaxed mood, his quest for eight gold medals having been achieved, but some find his relationship with Omega as troubling as it is cozy.
Omega is not only the official timekeeper of the Beijing Games. It is also one of Phelps's corporate sponsors, an arrangement that appears to be a conflict of interest.
The most visible athlete at these Games is getting a paycheck from the same company whose equipment decides the outcome of Phelps's events.
Well, it's official. Since The New York Times has decided there's a story here, by God, there will be a story. I especially like how they state that Omega routinely releases track images, insinuating something shady this time around. Except that FINA (the swimming federation) has a policy not to release race images. Track and swimming = apples and oranges, not that they really admit that.
( On stupidity, swimming and air conditioning. )
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(comment on this) Wednesday, August 20th, 2008
(4 comments | comment on this)
yahtzee63
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4:56p
the stupid, it burns
The day has mostly been a good one, and with the vivacious ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) veredus coming by for dinner tonight, it promises to continue so. But one e-mail chain at the office is threatening to kill me with stupid. Like, seriously, at one point, I could feel the stupid reaching out from the computer and clamping its stupid fist around my heart, squeezing stupidly. I began to wonder whether this would make a good horror movie -- you know, the stupid lurks in a dark alleyway as the innocent office worker makes her way home. Soon, she will be mugged, and all her good nonstupid thoughts will have been stolen, replaced with slow-simmering rage and the need to eat ice cream.
Though in my case today, it's less a need to eat an ice cream and more the inexplicable urge to repeatedly listen to the Taco version of "Puttin' on the Ritz."
Anybody else want to talk "Mad Men"? I'm not putting spoilers here, but to paraphrase the concise dianora2, this show is so good that sometimes I can't believe it.
current mood:  aggravated
current music: "Puttin' on the Ritz," Taco
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queenofthorns
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1:13p
Hello everyone! I hope you’re all well – I’m sorry I haven’t been posting or commenting on LJ much at all the last few days, but first we were on vacation (which was AWESOME!) and then the baby got sick on the way back and so things have been really topsy-turvy chez moi. So I apologize for any missed birthdays or non-commenting on fabulous things in your journals, and I shall try to get caught up with comments and reading posts and so on!
***
Another reason that I’ve been absent from LJ is that I’ve been completely absorbed by Vikram Chandra’s massive novel, Sacred Games (it’s sort of like The Godfather meets Midnight’s Children.) ( Sacred Games = no real spoilers )
***
I’ve also been watching more of “Sarah Connor” since they’re repeating the first season on Fox. In HD. And it’s SO GORGEOUS!!! ( A few comments about the first four episodes )
***
ALSO, I’m both excited and annoyed about some things at the Olympics. ( Olympics – Men’s 200 meters )
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reebear
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7:39a
My throat was hurting yesterday... but when you smoke it's hard to tell "I smoked too much" from "I think I have a cold." This morning I woke up and the fatigue yesterday (even given sleep deprivation) made so much more sense.
Anyway! I think I may have found a place to live. I checked out two places yesterday. I was really hopeful about the first one. The ad sounded articulate and well-written and the guy had dogs and I thought it would be cool to live someplace with dogs... but then I got there and realized that this guy was like the comic book guy from the Simpsons and the whole place reeked of dog and the kitchen was tiny and the carpet was all matted from lack of cleaning. In fact, everything seemed matted from lack of cleaning...
So then, disappointed, I went to go check out this other place that I was less hopeful about. The person there didn't say much about herself or the apt in the ad so I went in not knowing what to expect... and then she turned out to be totally cool. She's Persian (and really pretty!) and has a French accent from having grown up in Paris... and she showed me the apartment and we just stayed to chat afterwards. The place was HUGE, awesome kitchen, super-clean, and much closer to UCLA than the other place... And $25 cheaper, too.
Anyway, the girl (Maryam) said she'd call me back today so I guess I'd better go find my phone and try to not sound too sick on the phone. It's been so long since I've been sick (instead of hung over and sleep deprived, both of which are easy fixes) that I've forgotten how crappy it feels.
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treacle_a
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2:55p
So it's official: I am mental
Weigh-in this morning and I am now only five pounds (2.26kg) off my goal weight, which would give me a BMI of 23.5, a little below the top end of my 'correct weight range'. And yet I look at myself in the mirror and all I see is all the weight I still need to lose. All the soft squishy bits in the middle, the big-ass pot belly, that squishy bit on the underside of my upper-arm.
I honestly thought that if I got down to the same weight I was when I was 20-21 I would feel 100% happy with how I looked, but I don't. It's not as bad definitely, I don't feel despair when I look in the mirror any more, but I don't feel satisfaction either.
Don't worry guys, I'm not about to develop an eating disorder or anything, I just feel as if I should be feeling better about my physical self by now. I still can't get out of the mindset of the perpetually overweight person. I still freak a little when I realise I ate too many calories. I felt a genuine stab of horror on Saturday when S bought me a cream cake - "SHIT!!! I CAN'T EAT THAT!!' It's like part of me is in a permanent state of dread that I will wake up tomorrow and every ounce will be back.
My friend D, ex-dieter and now long-term skinny, tells me it's good to feel that way. That I should "become a fattist" (as my mum is becoming I fear) and feel superior to all those people who haven't managed what I have. But I hate those wankers, and I'm not about to start feeling superior to ANYONE based simply on their physical appearance. Plus...HYPOCRISY MUCH!!!
So anyway, I'm just whining here. Does anyone feel genuinely good about the way they look? I mean...EVER? Should I just get used to this? Is it only men who don't really think about this stuff (and not even all men, just some)?
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(18 comments | comment on this) Tuesday, August 19th, 2008
ortciv
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6:17p
Apparently we found out this afternoon that we need to send 3 guys to the Dominican Republic for a week's worth of testing starting tomorrow. So... I suppose its a good thing I dont have plans this weekend. Also, since we'll be working the weekend, I can get those days back by taking off next Thursday and Friday which means 5 day weekend. Yay....
So... I could be in Houston as early as Wednesday night and possibly bug a certain math teacher at work.
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(2 comments | comment on this)
grrm
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3:06p
Wildlings at Gencon
Gamers attending last weekend's GenCon in Indianapolis found a surprise waiting for them at the Dark Sword Miniatures booth -- a half dozen new figures in the "George R.R. Martin Masterworks" range, being rolled out for the first time as special convention pre-release.
The talented Jeff Grace sculpted these new additions to the Dark Sword range, six wildings from beyond the Wall, to face off against the Night's Watch figures featured in the first wave.
Two are spearwives, the women warriors of the far north, but don't look for ludicrous chainmail bikinis on these gals. Fur and leather are a lot more practical in the wild.
The wildlings were a special GenCon run, available for purchase only at the convention, but Dark Sword expects to make them available for mail-order in another month or two, as soon as the rest of "wave 1.5" is ready. Gencon attendees also got a glimpse at prototypes of some of the other figures in the iopeline, including a court lady, two gold cloak guardsmen, and a stunning 54mm sculpt of Daenerys and her newborn dragons, fresh from the fires of Khal Drogo's funeral pyre, all from Tom Meier. Watch this space for pictures for those figures, when they are available.
We'll also have pictures of the winning entries in the painting contest. My friends at Dark Sword tell me that some of them were truly spectacular. I look forward to seeing them.
current mood:  happy
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(27 comments | comment on this)
reebear
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10:15a
*sigh* Apartment hunting is hard. I used to be so much less picky - I just wanted a place but no, now I'm all like, "I'm not living with these young college kids" and "I'm not sharing a bathroom" and "wah wah wah, I want a balcony."
Gonna go visit an apartment tonight. Wish me luck!
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(2 comments | comment on this) Monday, August 18th, 2008
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reebear
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10:33a
*ahem*
Dear Erika:
Let's play Hangman.
H _ _ _ _ _ i _ t _ _ _ y
-<3 Ree
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(7 comments | comment on this)
reebear
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8:50a
dream, lenghten later.
War against something. Zombies? Robots? The hope that was there, that disappeared into the tunnel. Lockpicking. Looking inside. He wasn't there anymore. Frustration, little bit of hope.
--
Post-apocalyptic setting, scavenging and just trying to stay alive. We're fighting against robots or zombies or something. I have a partner - vocational, not romantic - and he used to be a scientist. He's not strong but he's brilliant, and runs around in round, cracked pince-nez and a dirtied lab coat. His hair is a mess and he's always scurrying about doing something, but he's got the kind of smile that quietly shines and lets you know that yes, things suck, but that's okay. He's a resistance leader and he's the one taking on the burden of making sure we're all alive so that we've got a little bit less stress, can breathe a bit more freely.
And then time elapses in that dream fashion, the passage of time in which you retroactively find out what happened and it's never good news.
I got a new partner, and I immediately disliked her - distrusted more than disliked, actually. I suspected her of being on the other side - robots, zombies, zombie robots, whatever. Yet she treated me kindly, and over time her solicitousness to my well-being and genuine-seeming smiles wore me down. I started talking to her more and even ventured to let slip details that I wouldn't have let slip had I proof she was one of Them.
And I heard things about people disappearing - just disappearing, no recoveries, no loud explosions, no bodies. I realized I hadn't seen our resistance leader for quite some time. I asked around. In hushed tones, people said he'd disappeared, but it was the fear in their eyes that made me panic, the way they almost didn't want to mention his name.
What happened?
And then I saw my new partner again, and saw for what it was the small, malicious smile she wore on her face. How could I ever have mistaken that for kindness? With dream!certainty I knew that she was behind this, but I couldn't do anything about it, not with everyone huddled and fearful.
And then I saw a dream, or a vision. I saw a cutaway view of the sewers rising up from the ground to my left, and the world I inhabited towards the right, separated by a yellow opening in the middle that looked like an old faded submarine door. A wind started blowing, and the people milling about blurred in the wind. Most stood their ground, unable to move forward, but not moving backward. The wind had targeted certain people, and they were left scrabbling at the ground, clinging to whatever they could, before ultimately being swept back into the sewers anyway.
Vividly, I saw the face of my old partner as he flew by my field of view. I had but a split-second opportunity to look at him, but it was long enough. I saw the "O" his mouth formed, not in fear, not in anger, but in defiance and determination, while the lines around his mouth and on his neck betrayed something that looked like pain.
I knew where this sewer entrance was, of course. I and one other person approached the opening, which was this faded yellow rectangle, bolted down at the sides. A slab-like protrusion was the door, just big enough for a single person to crawl through, and there was a tiny keyhole at the top of the protrusion.
"Saw it open?" The other person asked, but I shook my head. I took out a tiny pair of scissors and picked the lock. It was something my old partner had taught me to do. This quiet excitement welled up in me. Clearly in front of me I saw his face, blinking at first from the sudden light, and then that slow smile spread, as if asking, "What took you so long?" And then he would stride out of there, leading the way for the other people who had disappeared, cracked glasses in front, lab coat trailing behind, as if he had rescued me, and not the other way around.
The lock opened without protest, and I pulled down the door.
Instantly, the people on the other side froze. The light spilled in, and all their eyes reflected back at me, like the eyes of dogs. I hesitated a bit at the lack of jubilation. Were these not the people to be rescued? But I took a quick look around, and saw that my partner wasn't there.
I stuck my head and an elbow in. Called his name. Got no response. I called again, louder, and again. I felt surely, if I stood here all day and shouted his name, he would hear it, or at least hear of it.
Something shifted to my right. I saw the glasses first, glinting, and messy hair and the dirtied lab coat, and thought that my heart would burst for joy. And then he shifted, and I could see his eyes clearly through the glasses.
He looked at me as if he didn't know who I was.
My hand jumped forward. I wanted to grab him, shake him, demand he tell me what had been done to him, but he jerked back, as if I had struck him from half a room away. And then he looked up with recognition, but not at me. He looked up with recognition and celebration in his face, and he was looking right past me at the new partner I had, the one with the malicious smile. She was no longer dressed in the dirtied rags that comprised a resistance uniform. She was wearing what resembled a red and pink flight attendant uniform, her hair gleaming in tight little ringlets, the cap fashionably askew on her head. Her skirt ended a scandalous distance above her knees and displayed twin lengths of long, firm leg, ending in spiked maroon heels.
Surrounding her were women who gave me the altogether impression of a harem, 20 or 30 of them, giggling and smiling secretively, and my old partner clambered out of the sewers and rushed right past me without a second glance to join these women.
The odd part, which seemed not a bit odd in the dream, was that he didn't rush to them like a man seeking sex. He rushed to them the way a girl would, eager to see what they had bought (several were carrying shopping bags) and hungry for social acceptance, the reassurance that he was one of them.
I must've shouted something then, because he looked at me. At first I thought he would look at me with that same lack of recognition, or worse, disdain, now that he had his posse to back him up. But then I saw his shoulders shaking a bit, as if he were caught in a strong current, and the same lines around his mouth and neck that I had seen earlier in that vision. Pain, I thought. Internal struggle, I hoped.
And then I woke up.
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(comment on this)
treacle_a
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11:17a
bad thoughts
I just can't seem to get into a work groove. It's been almost a week now and I just can't do it. I have work to do. Some of it is even labeled 'urgent', but I just kind find the...motivation. I just sit here at my desk and search for people I've long ago lost contact with on Facebook. Some of whom I didn't even like much.
One of them is a girl who I was not even very friendly with on a kibbutz about 15 years ago. Her best friend persecuted me for the entire duration of my stay there but for some fucked up reason I have just friended her, giving her access to all kinds of personal info about me.
What the hell am I doing?
I need to snap out of this mysterious funk I've been in for the last 7 days. It's like a deliberate attempt at happiness-sabotage and I can't see it leading anywhere good. I seem to be consumed with thoughts of 'revenge' lately and keep coming up with these lengthy conversations in my head where I confront people who have hurt me in the past and really rip shit out of them. Or just mount the pavement with my car and pin them against a wall.
Please don't be afraid of me. I may need help.
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(6 comments | comment on this) Sunday, August 17th, 2008
rahirah
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8:41p
Life doesn’t suck
We’ve been having more router problems (the fix turned out to be something really simple, which I should have thought of myself, and I’m ashamed to have called ![[info]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) miertam up in a panic about it, but I did. I admit my weenieness.) so I haven’t been online at home much this week. Thus I’m even more behind than usual with comments, and I haven’t read my flist since Friday. Sorry! (she said, cringing) I’ve also realized that whenever I post from work, I’ve forgotten to post from my WordPress site, so I’m going to have to go back and do some housekeeping, and make sure everything matches up.
This weekend we got up bright and early Saturday morning and tamed the wilderness, i.e. mowed the front yard and hauled all the deadfall grapefruit out to the alley. Why, it almost looks like a civilized dwelling! In the next couple of weeks I need to get serious about cleaning the bermuda grass out of the garden, so we can plant fall flowers. We later went over to </lj>framefolly’s for yummy lasagna and a 10th Kingdom marathon, and today we did Mom’s grocery shopping and had her over for dinner.
And in between times, I worked like a mad thing trying to finish something for the </lj>![[info]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif) lynnevitational, and I succeeded, sort of. In a manner of speaking. It’s finished in the sense of having a beginning, a middle, and an end, but it’s really rough, and I have an awful feeling that the ending dissolved into treacly goo when I was trying more for restrained ray of hope. I posted a link to the rough draft, but I’m not pretending it’s anything but a rough draft. I think I need to let it sit for a week or so and then go at it with a meat cleaver. But later. Just reaching ‘The End’ was exhausting enough for today.
I read a couple of the other </lj>lynnevitational stories, which are excellent as always - more will be posted over the next week. So if you don’t have the comm friended (and why don’t you?) do so now! There’s genres and pairings for all tastes, and you won’t find better BtVS/AtS fic out there anywhere.
Sleep now. Happy, happy sleep…</lj>
Originally published at Barb C's Journal. You can comment here or there.
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gatewaygirl
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11:42a
Disturbing
I spilled fox urine on my hand. It's still mildly smelly after scrubbing with a nailbrush and geranium soap.
(If you're wondering why fox urine, I was warding the chicken yards from chipmunks who steal all the food from Stumpy, our toeless chicken.)
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gatewaygirl
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12:59a
I have mail!
I decided not to reinstall Eudora, which is no longer being updated. Instead, I brought over my Eudora mail from the disk from the dead computer, cleaned it up with Eudora Rescue, and imported it into Thunderbird. So far, I'm really pleased. It handles my two accounts just fine, and the only thing that I seem to have lost is the read/unread status of messages.
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(comment on this) Saturday, August 16th, 2008
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st_salieri
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9:59p
more Olympics!
It's time for more Olympics awards! Not for the athletes, mind you. For the sports. And the channels, and the announcers, and what have you.
( This way to the medals ceremony! )
current mood:  amused
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(1 comment | comment on this) Friday, August 15th, 2008
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cantonesegrly
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7:16a
morning watching post:
now i'll NEVER have to read the bible!
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sleepy
indescribable
busy