Our laundry facilities are in the dungeon, otherwise known as the communal basement. There are five storage "rooms", which are really just spaces enclosed with chicken wire, with a door and padlock. Our storage is full of empty boxes and things the previous tenant left behind. Anyway.There's a washer and dryer down there and always, always, always, there are Everest-like piles of dirty laundry and fifty different bottles of detergent, each half full. Sometimes, when I can't cope with the spider population, I head off to the laundromats. The cheap one is just that -- gloriously cheap with all the local weirdos camping out. The snazzy one has deep, comfortable couches, a big screen TV with cable, a snack bar, and tanning beds. Going to that one is more like crashing at your parents' house. Going to the cheap one is somehow more real, more of an adventure. And what the hell, your clothes get just as clean.
The dilemma for our new apartment in Idaho is that it has washer/dryer hook-ups in the closet. Whoa. Never had that option before. We might find ourselves down at Sears, being domestic. Yikes.
Kate and the moms and Bill -- y'all must be excited about the impending arrivals. I sincerely hope everyone has a stellar time, whether or not Kate does her laundry.
posted by Jen at 10:32 PM link/comments
Kate - the laundromat sounds like a great idea. Take a book and zone out. An alternative – put everything in garbage bags and bring it to our house. We have just finished tiling and wall papering in the laoundry – it is beautiful. And I have clothes pins.
posted by lindathemum at 4:31 PM link/comments
My brother and I were talking recently about our respective similarities and differences, and I came to the conclusion that if we could somehow combine our assets, we'd make the perfect kid. We're both clever little smartasses, but my brother excels in the "common sense and fiscal conservatism" side of intelligence, while I've always been on the "academic prowess and creative spark" side of things. Hence, Teddy couldn't give a flying rat's ass about his grades but has more money than God in his bank account, and can take one look at a car and figure out what's wrong with it. I envy this. Case in point: I've spent the better part of the last week considering the Everest-like pile of dirty laundry in my room and thinking, "I really should clean up around here since Bill's coming soon." A person with common sense would actually put that plan into motion. Not me. Instead, I've been allowing myself to become distracted while doing the laundry on the rare occasions it occurs to me. Further complicating the matter is the fact that our dryer does not emit heat (stupid gas-powered thing; pilot light won't stay lit), so if one wants to dry one's clothes, one must either run the clothes through the cold dryer (which necessitates running it an average of 6 times to dry 1 load of laundry), or hang it up on the basement line. The basement line is OK, I guess, but clothes always end up feeling kind of crunchy after they dry. Plus I never think to buy clothes pins, so I have to make sure to find the balance point in each soggy piece of clothing before hanging it so it doesn't end up flopping to the floor. This is always a huge problem with underpants. Underpants hate clothes lines. So this morning, once again finding myself at the foot of Mt. Laundry, my eyes straining upward in a vain attempt to see the summit, I resigned myself to the fact that I'm going to have to go to the laundromat tonight. I hate having to spend the money, particularly when I (sort of) have laundry facilities at home, but there's something to be said for having the ability to wash 10 loads of laundry simultaneously. Plus there's the added benefit of being able to people-watch. Laundromats are weirdo magnets. Any of you housemates have anything you need to have washed? Bill gets on the plane in about 7 hours. Yikes!
posted by Kate at 9:55 AM link/comments
11 hours.
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 4:04 AM link/comments
Wednesday, May 30, 2001
You don’t offend me Paully – I enjoy having a discussion. Thanks for the protection Bill but I can look after myself.
I don’t feel soured by my experiences. I grew up bare footed in a two-room shack with no power and no plumbing. Really So Money isn’t any big deal to me – everything beyond the basics is a bonus, and the really important things in life are the things you can’t buy. (Of course this only works if you have some place to live and something to eat). When I was a single mother – I was young, the boys were young, and we just got along. I don’t look back and think of it as this terrible period in my life. We did some great things had some wonderful times and I was often exhausted. My marriage broke up by more or less mutual agreement – and Bill’s Dad stayed around for him and his brother, and paid his share. That actually isn’t the case for a lot of parents who bring up children on their own (mothers and fathers – but mostly mothers).
But any case it isn’t worth arguing about. We have different opinions, we can agree I think that some men treat women badly, some women treat men badly and the whole political correctness thing is way out of hand.
I don’t want you full of seething anger Paully – I especially don’t want you turning green. I don’t know you well enough to know if that is dangerous or not. Hope tonight at the Copy shop is fun.
I finished the Dennis Lehane book – I recommend it to anyone who can tolerate a book with a very depressing view of life. Speaking of which I heard Richard Russo speak today – has anyone read Straight Man? A deeply funny book about academia. I recommend it too.
I’m off to bed now – I need my beauty sleep so I can stay awake late into the night when Bill and Kate are here.
posted by lindathemum at 10:26 PM link/comments
Have discovered rabbit nest in my little garden. Had to make myself leave in order to not poke around in search of darling bunnies. For chrissakes, how many bunnies have I seen in my life...
Roommate James's's's bird-watching hobby has attained a higher eschelon of involvement. As of today, he now has three types of feeders and a bag of sunflower seeds that is so big it could double as a chair. Word got out to the neighborhood cats that our slivver of a backyard is a bird buffet.
posted by Jen at 7:24 PM link/comments
never mind. i give. apologies if i offended.
posted by Paully at 1:06 AM link/comments
Tuesday, May 29, 2001
Paully, I love ya darlin, and I hear what you're sayin. Hell, I even agree with some of it. Living and working around college campuses can't help but expose you to the more toothsome and feral versions of the "everyone with a penis is a rapist" crowd. Don't let em get you down, and don't let em make you think that everyone who chooses to wear that little purple button that reads "feminist" is a raving loony. and be nice to my mum. ps. cheer up, i'm getting on a plane in 44 hours.
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 10:21 PM link/comments
if you want the facts, lindathemum, read The Myth of Male Power by Warren Farrell. he's fully prepared to answer any doubts you have about the veracity of his research. as for women getting left holding the baby when marriages go sour, i dont have those facts so i cant speak to how accurate they are. your own experiences sound as if they mirror those scenarios, though, which might be why youre so ready to believe them. as for setting me straight, please dont waste your time trying.
too full of seething anger to make sense right now. must flee before i turn green and tear up my clothes.
posted by Paully at 9:48 PM link/comments
O, Paully, Paully, Paully – I was going to get into bed and finish off the new Dennis Lehane novel – it’s very good and I’m really enjoying it. But I had to do a quick check on the Blog right after I played one last game of Spider solitaire. (aside – one of the benefits of being 50 years old and not having any children at home is that if you want to play computer games all night no one says “Muumm – what are you doing? Why don’t you pay attention to me” Well the Polish Prince does sometimes – but he has his own computer.)
And then I just couldn’t resist setting you straight.
So obviously I believe in men’s rights as well as women’s rights – I am happily married and have three sons – and I know that some women bang the drum on and on. But Paully – have you even looked at the statistics? Of course women don’t have more net worth. As you so rightly say they get less money for the same work, and they are the ones who overwhelmingly get left literally holding the baby. And with the truly rich when the women get a little old (around 50 maybe), they get dumped for someone younger, prettier and more complaisant. And in a marriage breakup the women end up with less – not more. Check the facts kid.
I am sorry that the women at your college give you a bad time – but I suspect they are just looking for someone to pick on. Of course you don’t subscribe to any of the stereotypes, but maybe they aren’t smart enough to take each person on her or his merits. Don’t let them get to you. It will be better in Idaho.
posted by lindathemum at 9:30 PM link/comments
Paul is very much in need of a Men's Studies course....
For our generation, caught between Generation X and the Millenial Generation, tradition means very little. Sometimes it seems too quaint, too timeworn. At some point in modern history, there must have been a collective idea that tradition equalled stability equalled progress equalled success. Those who bought into tradition like it was a blue-light special were disappointed when the mere enacting of tradition failed to open the gates to the promised land. Personally, I have a healthy cynicism toward certain traditions, and it's never come back to haunt me. If I were a train, I'd be happy on my tracks right now. Hey wait, I AM a train! Damn, I've got coal to haul and whistles to blow. Load me up with toxic waste. Get me off this blog, it ain't Union Pacific...choo choo choo choo all aboard...
posted by Jen at 7:49 PM link/comments
this isn't about men feeling threatened. whatever women want to do with their own last name is (obviously) their business. this is about me refusing to accept or even acknowledge this Evil-Male-Who-Thinks-He-Owns-People-Specter that i have been living with for the last seven years. in academia women beat the feminist drum to the tune of Women Have Been Oppressed without ever beating the counter-rhythm, or even acknowledging that a counter-rhythm exists (i.e. women make less money for the same work, but statistically speaking women have more net worth because both sexes buy more stuff for women). i am sick of that approach, and im not going to live with it anymore. maybe this sounds extreme, but you try being called a monster for seven years and see how extreme you end up being.
posted by Paully at 5:47 PM link/comments
For everyone's information, LindaTheMom is spending the week vacationing with her sister in Bethany Beach, Delaware, so will be MIA from blogland for awhile.
posted by Kate at 12:11 PM link/comments
Paul, no one's saying that there's a secret society of Men Who Consider Themselves Owners of Wives and Children running around the earth. Although there might be such an organization. Who knows. Stranger groups have existed. I read an article at some point over the last few years about African-Americans who choose to change their last names because their legal last names were those of their forefather's/mother's masters during slavery. There's no suggestion there that those people are actually still owned by some white cowboy-hat-wearing plantation owner in some distant state. It's just that the history and the implications of the name still leave a sour taste in some folks' mouth. People inherently want their own identities. Same thing here, I think. Some people choose to ignore the implications, and some people truly don't care. Both of those attitudes are fine. Some of us, though, still have a problem with the leftover traditions. It's the same reason why I'm against the tradition that the bride's parents should pay for the wedding. Goes back to the whole dowry thing. "Thanks for taking my daughter off our hands. Have some sheep and some tacky wedding favors." I think the problem is that men feel personally threatened by women who hold this attitude. What they need to realize is that, at least for a lot of us, it has very little to do with any ill will towards men today. Just a little social mouthwash to rid our mouths of that sour taste. But I still love you, Paully, even if you are a part of that evil, penis-wielding gender. *giggle* Just kidding.
posted by Kate at 10:00 AM link/comments
Monday, May 28, 2001
lindathemum, my pants have plenty of mind of their own, but that's not the point. the point is this: i have never met a man who thought of himself as owning his wife and children. in fact, the whole idea of a man like that actually walking the earth seems like a myth to me, like bigfoot or the loch ness monster--a myth im tired of hearing about. so im turning off my ears now.
video games: they are one gigantic way one can waste time, and kate's comparison to drew carey is especially apt. the same things keep happening, but you watch anyway. why? because your mind turns off while this is happening, and once in a while it's nice for a mind to turn off.
im going to go turn my mind off.
posted by Paully at 9:12 PM link/comments
Hmmm...y'all got the good countdown going on...I guess my only countdown is this:
two hours until I make and drink a large Tom Collins in a cheap plastic cup
three more days of watering plants for fun and profit
three days until the new CD-rewritable drive arrives
eleven days until my final paycheck, that being that last bit of income until SEPTEMBER, by god....
one month till we pack our bags for a jaunt to Northwoods with Brian "Bridog" Hanna
two months until we leave for Idaho
You know, Kate, you probably could have purchased some sunblock in Rochester. Call me crazy, but we do live in a country where you can buy just about anything, anytime, within about a five mile radius of wherever you are.
posted by Jen at 7:22 PM link/comments
Yay for group posts. Once Bill gets here, we can do quite a few combinations of group posts. Bill and Kate, Bill and Holly, Bill and Melinda, Bill and Kate and Holly, Bill and LindaTheMom and Kate ... You get the idea. Five days. I can count the days on one hand. Very excited. We just got back from a lovely Memorial Day weekend at Roommate Jen's parents' house near Rochester, New York. Fun was had by all, the only downsides being insects and my forgetting to pack sunblock. Incidentally, Bill, when you get off the plane in Cleveland on Saturday (!!!), I'll be the sunburned girl who's covered in mosquito bites. Spider Solitaire? Hmmm ... no. Can I play when we get to Maine?
posted by Kate at 5:19 PM link/comments
Sunday, May 27, 2001
yer but i get on the plane in FIVE days.....
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 10:03 AM link/comments
Saturday, May 26, 2001
Holly-what's MidEvil?
Kate - have you tried Spider Solitaire?
Maybe Kate & Bill & lindathe mum will post together? 7 days and 7days.
posted by lindathemum at 10:11 PM link/comments
Hell yeah. I think we've hit on something good here, with this video game difficulty topic. The first time I saw a first-person shooter game (I think it was Doom) I was perplexed because, as Kate pointed out, you no longer just moved left to right across the bottom of the screen and jumped over things and nabbed gold coins. Sometimes I watch Paully play this capture-the-flag type shoot-em-up game and it makes my brain curl up like a pill bug because I can't keep track of where he's been and where he's going and who he's shot or even what color flag he's after. Then there are other players sending comments across the top of the screen, which, apparently, you are supposed to read, reply to, and keep playing, all accomplished by a confounding array of keyboard combinations. In a way, it's impressive, and intimidating, and I feel like I ought to go play with my Lincoln Logs now.
I read recently that Pac-Man is a subliminal reference to raves -- you run around in the dark maze, munching pills and listening to repetitive electronic music.
Kate - are you and the man from Down Under gonna post to the blog when he's in town?
posted by Jen at 1:04 PM link/comments
Friday, May 25, 2001
Whew. And I had thought my chronic fear of contemporary video games due to difficulty was some failing on my part. Maybe it's just carried on the second x chromosome. Men will argue that the game controls are not difficult to figure out - "If you want to give a SuperApocolypticKick to your opponent's groin, just press the game pad right and down at the same time, press B, then A twice, then the start button in the same succession as the 'S.O.S.' symbol in morse code. Just make sure you do all of that in the space of 1.5 seconds or the Evil Overlord will ascend from Hades and tear you in half. What's so difficult about that?" And I think, "Well, I could sit here for half an hour figuring this out, which could lead to a good deal of fun. On the other hand, there's a halfway-decent Drew Carey rerun on at the moment, and listening to Drew and Mimi exchange insults sounds like a lot less work." I think this is the reason why just about any woman would rather play games on the old Nintendo than on a current Sega or similar gamebox. Most games were linear and uncomplicated. You were Mario or Luigi, you never had to go left, you stomped on some turtles, maybe shot off some fireballs, collected some coins, went down some tubes, then smashed the big bad guy at the end of the round. Ninja Gaiden rocked. (Incidentally, if you're nice to Paully, he'll email you a copy of Atari-simulator games for the PC. I've been playing "Pitfall" for days.) Gimme Majong or Freecell or Tri-Peaks. Or sometimes one of those new word games on the Sega site. And shooting games. Yeah. Give Holly and me a stack of quarters in a bar, plant us in front of an "Area 51" machine, and we'll be happy for hours. Die, evil intruder aliens, die.
posted by Kate at 12:12 PM link/comments
The difficulty factor is a big one. I have a simple approach to games: If it looks like work, and feels like work, it is not a game. For this reason I don't like chess. I am too intimidated by the inferred intellectual yardstick it represents. I feel stressed and like I have something to prove. Video games do not challenge me on that level, but it does seem like a ridiculous waste of time to play any game with a manual over 30 pages and more than 8 key combinations. Give me Gauntlet II, or Mah Jong, or a shooting game. Fun, not brain surgery. MidEvil was good, easy to learn, but interesting enough to keep you coming back.
posted by Holly at 11:12 AM link/comments
Thursday, May 24, 2001
Right on, Holly. I think that people who don't play video games (men or women, it doesn't matter) just aren't as thrilled with intense graphics and juggernauts of rampage as a stress relieving hobby. Such games seem incredibly complicated, as well. I mean, some of the stuff Paully plays looks downright difficult. I'm not one to invest significant mental energy in video games...geez, I have to think all day about what witticisms I'll post on the blog...
I killed a mouse today, by accident, at the greenhouse. It was hiding under a flat of flowers which I picked up, inadvertantly squeezing the mouse against the flat and a pot. It squirmed for a split second then just sort of died. I supposed I squished its heart or something. I didn't know what to do with it so I put it under some weeds out in the grass as if it was going to come back to life. Send your condolences to the Brown Mouse Hospice, where they are currently starting a program to teach mice to not let themselves get squished. Amen, hallelujah, and cue the bagpipes for Amazing Grace.
posted by Jen at 8:04 PM link/comments
I think many women, especially those over 30, think that video games are full of Laura Croft boobies and noir gun bullshit. I'm down with all that, but I think females on the whole find that immature or unfeminine. Lindathemum hits it on the head when she plugs puzzle games. Mostly, women (I DON'T want to start a nature of feminity debate/ nature vs. nurture thing - the following is a sweeping generalization) are not as competitive as men, and not as physically hostile. We like flickering images and addictive past times as much as guys, but we won't feel, or think we'll feel, any sense of victory or thrill at smashing the big boss. They should market more and existing games as fun, stress-relieving hobbies than "fights." We just don't care. Playstation has a dancing game, I forget the name, where you have to push button combinations to a beat to make your character to different moves. Sure, it gets harder as you go along and you win dance championships, but it is more about the hand/eye skill challange and curiosity about what the character will do next.
posted by Holly at 5:53 PM link/comments
+7 to when he sees his Mummy!
posted by lindathemum at 4:30 PM link/comments
Haven’t blogged in a while – forgive me. Sin City was wonderful – best bumper sticker seen on the way “Hail to the thief” Most confusing “The seventh day is still the Sabbath – god hasn’t changed it”. OK – but which day do you start counting?
As for giving the belt and shoes your name Paully – it seems to me that the point of giving women and children your name to make them your property is that they might at some stage develop ideas of their own. Now my shoes and socks aren’t big on the ideas of their own department – but yours may be different.
Now about the computer games – I don’t have much interest in the Mother-in-law one. When I changed husbands I also got a new mother-in-law. The first one wasn’t all that easy – but fortunatly never suggested that I should “kneel at the feet of Jesus”. In a surprising turn of events after my ex-husband divorced his second wife I am now the favourite daughter-in-law again. Just goes to show – hang around long enough and anything could happen.
I do like computer games, but am prone to wussy things like Pandor’s Box – I enjoy the puzzle ones. Currently I’m enjoying alchemy on the msn network. If soemone could find a good puzzle game for me I would like that – I’ve finished with Pandora’s Box. I like Chips too, but I’ve done that a number of times.
Counting the days Bill - the Polish Prince is making a huge bucket of killer chilli - hope you are feeling hungry.
posted by lindathemum at 2:41 PM link/comments
Weird Query of the Week: Someone got here by running a Google search for "bearly+nude" (sic). What does that mean, exactly? Is it someone naked except wearing a bear costume? Someone standing naked next to a bear? Or does it refer to a bear wearing no clothes?
posted by Kate at 11:53 AM link/comments
Wednesday, May 23, 2001
you know, every now and then (witness the cockatoo swedish slot car set) I find something on the internet that i simply have to share with as many people as is humanly possible. This is one of them. Drawn to it by this article in X-Entertainment, I began browsing the hallowed halls of American Science and Surplus. Now I'm forever blue that my stay in Chicago will not be long enough to make a trip to the store itself. Forgive me, American Science and Surplus, I did not know the glory of your existence until today, and MY TICKET ARRIVED YESTERDAY AND IT'S ONLY 8 DAYS UNTIL I GET ON THE BIG SILVER BIRD IN SKY......
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 11:03 PM link/comments
ALLRIGHT!!!!! And don't forget the wussy brothers-in-law on Harleys who back up the old bats. Then if you knock the bat into a ditch you get big bonus points! And the sneaky sisters-in-law who sit quietly and orchestrate the whole attack. There is also the Spectre..the ghost of the bat's husband who is really on your side! This is starting to get really good!
posted by Linda at 3:02 PM link/comments
I've got it, Ma. The game for you would be called "Mother-In-Law Target Practice." There would be a cackling, extraordinarily evil old bat zooming around the screen in a wheelchair and your job as the player would be to simultaneously avoid rotten comments and psychoChristian phrases being pelted at you (the words "You must kneel at the throne of Jesus!" shaped like a rocket, coming right for you; "You kids today ain't got no respect!" in the form of a bomb) while launching your own assault against her. The player would have a whole arsenal: rocket launchers, grenades, bazookas, poison dart guns, a big bucket of angry pit vipers ... the whole lot. Hell, yes, it would be violent, but I guarantee it would serve as healthy catharsis for the millions of women in this country whose husband's mothers were manufactured in the most fetid bowels of hell.
posted by Kate at 1:25 PM link/comments
..But what kind of game could they invent which would be targeted at retired fifty-one year old menopausal slightly overweight blogmothers whose childrearing years are almost over and who spend their days talking to an Australian Shepherd whose comprehension of the English language is almost scary???? Hmmm....maybe this game can be called FREEDOM!!!!!
posted by Linda at 11:22 AM link/comments
stolen from feistynoodle, on women and computer games, from feisty herself, who's a female gamegeek and works for a huge international games company.... "My thoughts about porn/sexism in games. It's a male dominated industry. That isn't going to change until you get women interested in *at least* playing games. And that isn't going to happen until people start producing games that a) aren't aimed at children, b) are marketed to people other than teenage boys and c) women kick their sons/boyfriends/brothers/husbands off the console/pc.
Women don't play games cause the men who plunge money into "Barbie's Shopping Adventure" et al don't realise that games aimed at the male/general market are generally playable by all ages, whereas games aimed at the female market are aimed at a very small niche, eg 8-10 or 11-13 age group. Women don't play these games cause - well - they're aimed at vacuous american spoilt pre-teens who think that choosing between a pair of rhinestone encrusted jeans in pink or purple denim constitutes a demanding intellectual exercise.
Another reason is that being female does not constitute a character type. "Yeah, there's Joe, he's a demolitions expert, Mike, he's an ex marine, Agamemnon, he's a cyborg with big trousers, and Jane. She's a girl..." With big tits, obviously.
*mutters something about having dark thoughts and wanders off, presumably to hit someone over the head and drag them back to her office*
Which link doesn't work, the cat lovers link or Plif? or is it that you're just bog, billyjoe? ;-)"
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 2:17 AM link/comments
Tuesday, May 22, 2001
Forgot the missile shield...I'm in support of odor warfare.
posted by Jen at 6:25 PM link/comments
You'll need to have RealPlayer downloaded to hear this one ...
posted by Kate at 11:29 AM link/comments
Monday, May 21, 2001
This just in: Jimmy lays the smack down on Dubya 12 days.
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 10:43 PM link/comments
Oh yuck. Via Shauny. If I ever have the time and resources, I'm going to write a truly helpful guide for these men. Some titles I'm toying with: Reality Check: You're a Fat, Balding Bastard. Grow the Fuck Up.
Literary Laxative: You Too Can Pull Your Head Out of Your Ass
Just Because She's 41 Doesn't Mean She's Your Mother: How to Face Maturity Without Fear
Women Under 30: If We Date You, It's Because We're Trying to Soak You for Your Money and/or Because We're Playing Out Some Sick, Deep-Seated Father Figure Issues.
posted by Kate at 12:46 PM link/comments
Sorry for my lack of bloggage in recent days. Although I checked into the blog a couple of times this weekend to see what was going on, I opted out of posting because I was at my parents' and did not feel like doing battle with their computer and its utter inability to transfer web-based information via the bandwidth. (sings) "I would do anything for blog, but I won't do that." *cough* Ahem. Sorry. Couldn't help myself. *ducks heavy projectiles flung by bloggers who will now have Meatloaf songs stuck in their heads*
posted by Kate at 10:09 AM link/comments
Sunday, May 20, 2001
I guess the Iowa contigent owns the blog this weekend...the Aussie and the Ohioan, all the moms, MIA...I remember that "Fireball Fuschia" paper. Paully brought home little notepads of it, making me feel guilty for only wanting retina-friendly white paper. I stacked it in a stairstep shape in the bedroom, and it glowed at night. In high school, I used to print my essays, reports, whatever on different colored paper, just to test the limits of my teachers. But, had Fireball Fuschia been an option, I would not have used it, no matter how much I loathed the teacher. Some colors are too cruel.
posted by Jen at 10:28 PM link/comments
Saturday, May 19, 2001
This just in: you should read this if youre a man planning to date a woman. women, it's not a bad idea for you to read it, too--you know, as a sure-fire way of knowing your *ahem* rights.
still working hard.
posted by Paully at 5:46 AM link/comments
on property and men owning women: does this mean that i have to give my computer my last name? what about my clothes? am i wearing Shirt Cockeram right now? Is my Belt Cockeram holding up my Slacks Cockeram? cause if so, that's cool. way cool.
posted by Paully at 3:38 AM link/comments
here at copyworks we have a variety of paper products, including a whole palettefull of different colors. one of these colors is called "Fireball fuscia," and it is every bit as eyeball-seering as the name suggests. in fact, it's one of the two papers here that you should never look directly at, and if held too close to your face it will change the color of your skin. one time i took a sheet of it home to jen and she demanded that i put it away. i plan on making a suit of armor out of this paper and then walking outside to the bar-crowd-filled streets and tearing up some frat boys, since theyll be too blinded to fight back.
some things i have learned about the mating habits of young iowans: the garb of today's sorority girl is a skimpy, armless, shoulderless shirt of some bright pastel color, with two spaghetti straps holding it together in the back, accompanied by stretch pants or loose slacks, either white or khaki, typically worn with copious gold earrings and necklaces. her mating call is a high-pitched trill that goes, roughly, "Yeee-how! Hahrck harchk! Whooo!" her potential mate, the frat boy, wears a tight-fitting t-shirt that accentuates his thick arms and thicker neck, accompanied by slacks, everything in earth tones, with a gold necklace and, if he's the more flamboyant variety, a gold earring. his mating call is "Aaauuuuugh! Yeeeeow! Owwwoooh!" they all appear to be having more fun than i am. both of them spray on artificial scents that seem to make them more attractive to one another but do a lot to repel me.
i have hit thr groove where things are almost kinda fun, sorta. certainly this is better than grading papers. in a few minutes im going to sweep the floor.
posted by Paully at 3:34 AM link/comments
Friday, May 18, 2001
Aw yeah...Bush vs. Alaska.
posted by Jen at 9:55 PM link/comments
Here's how my 40 hour work week at the greenhouse breaks down:
38 hours watering tiny, thirsty plants.
2 hours doing other stuff, like coating my shoulders in sunscreen.
That's it. I don't think I've ever had such a repetitive, single-purpose week. Also, I'm as tan as a camel.
posted by Jen at 9:21 PM link/comments
Well, I’m off to Sin city for a few days of hedonistic fun. Or at least as much fun as you can have on a limited budget. The Polish Prince was worrying last night about what sort of hotel we are going to end up in when you book the cheapest possible place over the internet. Still going to be fun, and we have years of experience at finding cheap fun. For those of you who know what this is – we are pretending it is the queen’s birthday Weekend.
Name change – haven’t got time to go into it right now. I changed it when I married the first time because I was young and in love and didn’t really think about it. Didn’t change it the second – because – I had already changed it twice – once when I got married, and then back again when I got unmarried. Also I was close to my Dad and an only child – so wanted to keep the name. Life was somewhat complicated by this – since we had three last names in our family. It was good for keeping track of who knew you what way – and when Bill was being obnoxious at school, we could go to parent days and no one could tell whose parents we were. And when people ask me if we are married my answer is “Why? Does it matter?” That usually shuts them up. At the time I married Phil one of my feminist acquaintances said it would be better to live together and change your name – that seems stupid to me. Why can’t men change their names? And I’m sorry to argue but of course it has to do with patriarchy. Why the hell do you think it is done? So men can keep track of their property – women and children. It is not done that way in many European or Asian countries.
posted by lindathemum at 7:15 AM link/comments
my friend sommer married my friend bill, and then she changed her last name to match bill's last name. i was surprised by this, considering her feminist wiles, and so i asked what motivated the change. she said this: "paperwork." the way she explained it, changing her name eliminated a lot of headaches because she was filling out applications for financial aid at UNLV, and the financial aid people kept saying, "You checked that you're married but you also indicated that your parents' last name is the same as yours--what's up with that? You didn't marry your brother, did you?" then she would have to explain that she didnt want to change her name, and just when she convinced those people that she really was married, someone else would ask her, and it would all start again. finally she threw up her arms in disgust and changed the damned name. she said she doesnt regret it.
me? im at copyworks right now. i have cleaned the store and finished all the jobs and helped all the customers, so i am getting paid to make sure the store doesnt burn down and for typing these words to you. im also half asleep and counting the hours until my week of overnight working is done. those of you who have worked a graveyard shift will understand what's going on in my mind. those of you who havent are lousy spoiled wretches.
when i pee, i hold my thingy with one hand and my nose with the other. i caught one whiff of that stuff and i was instantly repeled. surely there's something marketable here. an insecticide? stink bombs for frustrated high school kiddies? paint thinner?
posted by Paully at 6:18 AM link/comments
Thursday, May 17, 2001
Penkhurst???
You know, I'm just going to eliminate last names. Problem solved. Or maybe I'll just become Jen X, which sounds a lot like Generation X.
Asparagus is best, and even the stinky pee is fun because then you have proof that the asparagus has become part of you. Mmmmm.
posted by Jen at 8:30 PM link/comments
Stinky wee = funny.
Changing last names = lindathemum did the first time, but didn't the second. Her reasons for both will be well documented as soon as she gets onto the puter and posts. I think the idea of getting together and CHOOSING a last name is kinda kooky, and I'm all for it. The only problem I can forsee is that the boy would want something groovy and action heroish like "Steel" or "Magnum". and the girl would want something sensible and at the same time respectful of her feminist forbears like "Greer" or "Penkhurst"..... this could cause issues.
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 7:21 PM link/comments
Watch out, Jen, Paul will have stinky pee for a week. I can't help but wonder about the rumor that asparagus affects how semen tastes, but I would totally understand you not volunteering such information. Particularly when you have the wet bra issue to contend with.
Paperwork? Patriarchy?
First - KatekatebobatebanannafannafofatemimymoemateKate, the paperwork at the beginning of the marrige will suck, no doubt, but you will have to notify most of those people anyway (why have two grocery store accounts? have a joint one and rack up those points on win-a-turkey games!). And anyway, the rest of your life you will have to explain yes, you are married, no you didn't change names, no, you didn't hyphenate it, yes, the kids have hyphenated names (note additional pain in the ass there), and so on and so on. Ick.
Second - Patriarchy=bad. Not changing name=nothing to do with patriarcy or crushing thereof. I was shocked when my mother changed her name when she got married, and she told me straight out, in one of those touching mother/daughter moments:
"How high are you? You have your father's name, then your husband's. At least you get to choose the husband, because god knows we just get stuck with the dads. Why is this your business anyway?"
It all seemed fair to me.
My pefect solution would involve me and my alleged beloved chosing a last name and BOTH of us changing to it.
posted by Holly at 4:44 PM link/comments
Wednesday, May 16, 2001
I'm not changing my last name either! Down with the patriarchy! It is a helluva lot of paperwork and legal wrangling, and besides, I got a short story published under Jen Hirt, so I've got my literary future to consider.
Today I made Paully eat half a pound of fresh asparagus and I'm not sure he was too thrilled about it.
James' girlfriend sent me an email saying that she left one of her bras in his closet "to dry" (WHAT?????) and she needs it back. This is what happens when James leaves town...I'm afraid to approach his closet, location of the now dry and much needed bra.
posted by Jen at 8:52 PM link/comments
I guess I can understand your wanting to change your last name, Holly, if you really hate it that much. I will never change my last name. And when people ask me why, I will always offer some feminist, anti-patriarchy diatribe as justification (followed, of course, by a Xena-esque battle cry). However, there is one other factor in my decision: Paperwork. Too much bloody paperwork. There's already too damn much paperwork involved in getting married what with a marriage license and tax forms and property and joint checking accounts and the fact that once you get married, your Christmas card list becomes at least twice what it used to be. Change your last name and you effectively have to notify any organization that has your name anywhere on file. The Department of Motor Vehicles, credit card companies, bank accounts, employer, health club membership, student loans, the federal government, the state government, the local Board of Elections ... even your goddam grocery store so they can change your name on that little discount card thingy you carry on your keychain so that the cashier doesn't give you any shit when you try to write a check imprinted with a different last name. Too much paperwork.
posted by Kate at 2:17 PM link/comments
Tips from Holly "Always the bridesmaid - never the bride" McCoy (you know it's true because I am still stuck with the horrid moniker 'McCoy,' if I have to hear one more the Real McCoy or Hatfield joke I will killkillkill. Most girls check out a guys eyes, or butt, or package, I myself like a nice last name to get me purring).
1. When standing with back to audience during ceremony, do not wonder if your ass looks huge. You will start to obsess and not pay any attention at all.
2. YOUR PRIMARY JOB: keep the bride's mother from driving bride crazy.
3. cluck over bride, pamper, find things, talk in a soothing tone of voice. Only a small percentge of weddings I have been in/attended featured a relaxed, happy couple.
4. In th same vein, do not ask bride practical questions. Managing the next few hours for her is what you are there to do.
5. Do not taunt the happy fun bride.
6. This is most important - champagne punch might have some alcohol content, but it is lower than the morals of the guys who will hit on you because of the "bridesmaids are feeling vulnerable and therefore easily fucked." Do not depend on the punch to get those guys to look good. beer, wine, or liquor - not punch.
7. Last tip - even if you drink enough to make those guys look good - stay away.
posted by Holly at 12:39 PM link/comments
If there's any issue in our house that will eventually lead to violence and mass carnage, it's the ice cube trays. Errr ... actually, that's not true. It might be the bills. Or the dishes. Or the trash. Steve and I got into an argument once over the ice cube trays. I had failed to fill them, he got mad, and I called him "the Ice Nazi." He didn't think it was very funny. I've gotten much better about filling trays since then. In other news, my animal-wounded hand has scarred over nicely, producing a charming knot of scar tissue under each of the former puncture wounds. It's a little weird. My office is freezing due to the university's bizarre "no heat for anyone after April 15" rule. It's not too cold; in the high 50s, but the central air conditioning's on in the building, which is perfectly ridiculous. I brought a sweater and an extra pair of socks with me to work this morning, all of which have already been donned. Driving to PA tomorrow. Friday I get to be a bridesmaid for Friend Autumn's wedding. This is my first time as a bridesmaid. Any tips from those who have been in weddings before?
posted by Kate at 10:22 AM link/comments
tonight i was attacked by guilt over jen doing the dishes for three days in a row or something like that, plus working in the miserable heat of the greenhouse, while i train for a week of overnight work at copyworks by staying up until dawn. i have therefore vowed to cook a wonderful dinner and then do the dishes afterward. this will assuage some of my guilt and make jen like me.
posted by Paully at 1:37 AM link/comments
Tuesday, May 15, 2001
It's just a snake. It has yellow stripes. The problem, I think, is that it is fairly long and a tad bit alarming when you're not expecting it. But a snake in a greenhouse is a good thing, because they eat mice, rats, children and the elderly. Plus they tempt you into that whole take-a-bite-of-knowledge hoo-hah. I mean, greenhouse are mimicking Eden anyway. The snake is essential.
Roommate James is visiting Boston this week. When Paully and I returned from Idaho, we were amused to see that James had used all the ice cubes but not refilled the trays. He had stacked them neatly by the sink, as if unaware that one needs to fill them with water to create ice. But we can't harp at him for it because he quit smoking last week and is, shall we say, a little edgy. He's taken to lighting fires in the backyard, and for some reason has left one of his notebooks in the yard, where it has absorbed three days of rain.
posted by Jen at 11:25 PM link/comments
What kind of snake is it? Black snake? People who own greenhouses should know better than to kill snakes, particularly Iowa non-poisonous (I assume) snakes.
posted by Kate at 8:01 AM link/comments
Monday, May 14, 2001
Kate - when I was a reporter at the Record Courier, one of the more experienced reporters told me about the time there was a marijuana plant growing outside the courthouse. And Paul can probably recount what happened to the marijuana plant he and some other counselors discovered at the fancy-schmancy arts camp we worked at for a summer.
Remember the snake in the greenhouse? "Seek and destroy" orders came down today, since apparently the snake has grown rather large and is scaring the pansies out of everyone. I was like, "uh, how should I kill it?" (feigning obedience, because I'm not going to kill a snake) and my boss pointed to a shovel. Right. I am so NOT going to kill a snake with a shovel. Call in the Crocodile Hunter so he can lovingly coax the snake onto a twig and say "Ay, this here is the most dangerous snake in all of Iowa!"
posted by Jen at 7:21 PM link/comments
There's a marijuana plant growing just outside my office building. I'm wondering how long it will take the university landscape people to figure it out.
posted by Kate at 11:46 AM link/comments
I found out yesterday that if you have friends who own golf clubs, you can pay your local golf course $8.50 and they will in return allow you to trudge around the "back 9" for 4 hours wielding metal sticks and chasing a small white ball. This is called "fun." It was all Aamir's idea. I also found out, via helpful hints from my more golf-savvy comrades, that a successful golf swing involves keeping one's knees slightly bent but one's right arm inhumanly straight while twisting one's waist in a manner that clearly violates the spine's range of mobility while keeping one's feet firmly ensconsed in the earth while somehow keeping one's eye on the ball in order to send it spiraling into space via a metal rod. This inevitably yields one of the following scenarios, which as far as I can tell are equally probable: 1. End of metal rod strikes not ball, but patch of manicured golf-course-grass located 3 inches behind ball. Patch of grass becomes dislodged from ground with resounding thud, and flies off comically at odd angle. If you ever go golfing, also remember this: Sunblock is a good idea. I currently have the facial pallor of someone's merry drunken cousin.
2. End of metal rod strikes ball, which flies off comically in direction polar opposite the location of hole. Wielder of rod must then trudge after ball and spend no less than 15 minutes searching for ball, which has inevitably rolled onto the fairway of a neighboring hole.
3. End of metal rod strikes nothing at all, leaving wielder of rod to stagger comically as a result of swing-recoil. Said wielder then must turn to friends, grin sheepishly, and mutter absurd excuses.
4. End of metal rod strikes ball, which actually flies off in direction intended, with varying levels of height and distance. This results in wielder squinting thoughtfully into the distance, attempting to hide euphoria of actually making the ball go somewhere. Should this happen, the wielder trots after the ball and, instead of doing the logical thing which would be to simply cut one's losses, pick up the ball and go home, proceeds to start the process all over again.
posted by Kate at 7:59 AM link/comments
i once had a cappucino machine, but the frothy milk thingy got clogged or something and it stopped working. i just gave up on the whole thing and i havent touched it since. espressos are too much for my delicate pallate.
i am writing this post on the new computer, which is more than six times faster than my old one according to some benchmarks. the old one is no a server, and it's doing a respectable job. jen was gracious enough to pretend excitement when she saw it.
posted by Paully at 5:43 AM link/comments
Sunday, May 13, 2001
Happy Mother's Day to the blogmother's union..... in coffee related news, I bought a cappucino machine at a garage sale on the weekend for twenty measly bucks, and whilst i haven't quite worked out the frothy milk thingy yet, we have been enjoying many espressos....
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 10:54 PM link/comments
there is nothing-but-nothing that takes off the edge like a cup full of six ounces of liquor and some lemon juice and some Coke. i mean, 22 straight hours of driving is no match for a long-island iced tea with a little too much of everything in it.
i returned home to a bushel full of computer goodies, and i am only awaiting the other bushel of goodies in my friends home before everything is fully assembled. on the subject of coffee: i broke my 4-cup pot, but i am in full agreement with those who say "If you wanted a cup of cream and sugar, you should have ordered a cup of cream and sugar." i like my coffee black, like my heart. sometimes i'll tart it up with a dash of milk, but this is so rare that it's hardly worth mentioning. i just like the little color dance coffee does when it gets a dash of milk.
one thing is for sure: a viscious cold will only be aggravated by mountains and altitude changes. another thing is for sure: driving is a full-time job. all i have to say is, fucking montanna. and fucking south dakota.
oh, and minnesota should increase the intelligence of their Department of Transportation by hiring a couple of retarded six-year-olds.
oh, and thank you for returning, mike. i loved your analysis of starbucks clients. if youre nice to me, i will provide an analysis of Copyworks clients, as i will be working there by the end of this week.
me? i'm drunk. how are you?
posted by Paully at 2:28 AM link/comments
Some 3,200 miles later, Jen and Paully have returned to Iowa. Idaho was fun, complete with successful apartment hunting highlighted by Andy, our new landlord, who drives a little motor-scooter but owns an airplane, which I suppose our new rent will be financing. We experienced many time zones and many mountain passes. Millions of butterflies splattered themselves across the windshield. I'm happy to report that Moscow, Idaho has a gas station called "The Stinker," an oversized rocking chair akin to the largest basket (pictures coming soon, we promise), and squirrels drinking Southern Comfort on frat house lawns. Current students informed us that, come winter, the interstate passes through the mountains are closed and "you can't really get out, except by plane." Guess the landlord has the right idea.
Roadtrip memories are best summarized by Paul holding a conversation with the snot he had just coughed up into a Subway napkin. That said, I'm going to bed.
posted by Jen at 2:02 AM link/comments
Thursday, May 10, 2001
Yay for French presses. My morning coffee-making ritual consists of grinding beans (the type of coffee varies; mike and zack, as starbuck's employees, are each entitled to a free pound of coffee beans per week, so we constantly have a ridiculous variety of beans. even we can't drink 2-pounds-of-beans-worth of coffee in a week), tossing them in the coffeemaker along with requisite water and filter, then waiting on tenterhooks for a cup's worth to be brewed. I never have enough patience to wait for the entire pot to be finished, so every morning I do this wacky coffee juggle where I whisk the pot from under the drip, quickly replacing it with my coffee cup. Then I simultaneously fill my cup with both the stream of coffee from the coffeemaker and whatever coffee's already made it to the pot. Then I sit at the kitchen table and talk to the cats.
posted by Kate at 9:30 AM link/comments
Wednesday, May 09, 2001
boy, i'm glad this wasn't around when i was at school, I could have been in real trouble.... (actually, come to think of it, I wouldn't have, you can't get busted for plagiarising blank pages)
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 9:03 PM link/comments
Coffee snob hey? We'll see how you react to the Polish Prince's coffee - Alonzo's Double Dark, fresh ground beans - then coffee made in a French press - not for the weak kneed.
Can't wait to share a cup out on the deck - the snow has finally gone. And Bill's cup is still in the cupboard.
posted by lindathemum at 4:34 PM link/comments
All right. Here's what I've come up with: Roommate Jen is constantly screeching about how much she hates phone books. I think her hatred stems from the fact that they are big and bulky and not easy to store, but I can't be sure, because Jen is weird. For the last 10 minutes, I've been sitting here making a mental list of all the places I could secretly stow phone books in the house, just to drive Jen nuts. *the dishwasher I'm definitely losing my mind.
*under the covers on her bed
*the microwave
*her underwear drawer
*hanging from the basement clothesline
*stapled to the front door
*tied to her cat
*the refrigerator
*the oven
*lining the driveway
posted by Kate at 3:38 PM link/comments
Scene: A small office containing two oversized desks, two computers, crammed bookshelves, a file cabinet, a laser printer, a large scanner, computer shipping boxes, and various papers scattered everywhere. At one of the desks sits our heroine, a short-haired, somewhat frazzled looking woman in her mid-20s. She is staring at her computer monitor, muttering something about javascript in Macintosh browsers. There is a knock at the door. Woman: Come in! Enter deliveryman, a gentleman in his mid-30s wearing rumpled street clothes and intently studying the piece of paper in his hand. Deliveryman: Hi. I have your phonebooks here. Deliveryman goes into hallway; returns with wheeled cart stacked high with phone books. Pushes stack of phone books onto office floor. Deliveryman: You have a good day, ma'am. Delivery man exits. What the hell am I supposed to do with 32 phone books????????
Woman: Phonebooks?
Deliveryman: Yeah. New white pages and yellow pages. Is this the basement of Clark Hall?
Woman: Yes.
Deliveryman: OK, good. Says here I'm supposed to drop off 16 phone books to your office.
Woman: Um, I don't need 16 phone books. Two sets will be fine, for me and my officemate.
Deliveryman: But it says I'm sposed to drop off 16 sets. Are you Amy Riddle?
Woman: No. And I didn't ask for 16 phone books.
Deliveryman: Well, I'm sorry, ma'am, but it says I gotta drop 'em off here, so I gotta drop 'em off here.
Woman: But I don't have any place to put a total of 32 phone books. Look at this place.
Deliveryman: Sorry, ma'am. Nothing I can do.
posted by Kate at 3:21 PM link/comments
OK, OK. I am going to admit that I have in recent years become the world's largest coffee snob. Here's my criteria for coffee: In order for a beverage to be considered "coffee," it must comprise at least 75% coffee. Thusly, a cup of coffee with cream and sugar is acceptable. It's still mostly coffee. It's no less respectable than putting lemon and sugar in a glass of iced tea. HOWEVER, ordering a half-caf frappa-mocha-ccino with a shot of artificially-flavored-sugar-syrup and a great big gob of non-fat, lactose-free, non-dairy whipped "cream" with cinnamon topping that inevitably drips onto your $75 Ralph Lauren power tie and heated leather seats, causing you to curse, drop your digital wireless phone, and swerve your brand new Beemer into oncoming traffic, is NOT coffee. Claiming to drink such bastardization of "coffee" is akin to telling someone you're going to eat some eggs, then consuming a piece of chocolate cake. Suchly, there is nothing wrong with drinking weenie coffee beverages, just as there's nothing wrong with eating chocolate cake, but you don't get to call yourself a "coffee drinker." In my humble opinion, you're not allowed to tout that moniker unless you can consume an entire cup of black coffee without flinching. But like I said, I'm a snob, so I could be wrong.
posted by Kate at 10:01 AM link/comments
Tuesday, May 08, 2001
hmm - cool coffee orders - my coffee choice of the last five or so years has been a long macchiato, to which i have just discovered the joys of adding three teaspoons of sugar and a shot of frangelico for late night imbibing.... YUM
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 6:55 PM link/comments
alot of tentacle sightings lately. must be the season for it.
I now have even more reason to feel that my coffe order and the style of it's delivery is the subject of judgement and derision of the tragicly hip who are usually younger, thinner, and pierced than I am. Fuckers.
I once did not ask for rrom for cream in my large regular coffee because I feared it would cause the highly desirable coffee jockey to think me a pussy. I left the store, without having said or done anything to make said studbunny remember me at all, feeling that I may have fooled him, but being more convinced than ever of the truth of it in my soul.
I really hope someone finds their way here through a websearch for coffee+jockey+pussy.
posted by Holly at 4:37 PM link/comments
Many thanks, TentacleMan. Your post has made my day 100 times lighter.
posted by Kate at 1:36 PM link/comments
So, yesterday, to score points with old boss, and earn more money... well, because I need more money... I worked the closing shift at his lovely store on Cedar-Fairmount. Mind you, this is already after working from 7-3:30 at my current store... I come home, take my shoes off, socialize as best I can, then at 5:30 I'm on the road to next store, not to return home until 12:30 am. I gave Starbucks over 14 hours of my life yesterday... and those last 6 hours, worth every penny.
What can you say about a store that is right between coventry and Cleaveland, near Case Western... and open 'til midnight... college girls. Attractive, smart, college educated women, who like flirting for discounts on their coffee. For some perspective let's peek into Mike and Zack's current store, and look at the clientel. We shall hide behind this faux painting, shipped directly from Seatle, they won't see us as we watch.
Note, here comes the middle-aged black grandmother with her 5 grandchildren in orbit around her vast body... we have yet to determine if this is an effect of gravity, or corporal punishment... see how she calculates how much she can spend, per child, meticulously asking the employee poingnant questions such as 'Any other kids drinks a dolla?' Ah.... look now, you can just see, through the large line of irate white people behind her, that after 20 minutes of thourough questioning as to how much she can get for the least amount, she has produced... yes... a fifty dollar bill.
Ah.... here's an interesting speciman... note the blue suit, of expensive cut, the balding hairline, the power tie... a Tight-Assed White-Skinned Businessman... common in this area. Ah, see how he makes his order with authority, no questions, no room for doubt... ooo, the poor employee has stuttered over the order, losing points with the Businessman, who already considers said employee to be a backwater, uneducated bufoon... see how he tosses his money down with disdain, slightly to the left and out of reach of the employee... done so to draw the Employee out of his comfortable stance, throw him off balance as the Businessman... POUNCES, TEARING OUT HIS THRoat... oh, wait, he's just said keep the five cent change. Sorry.
Oh ho... observe, here comes the next common species of customer to be found at starbucks... observe, well dressed... clean shaven... wait... listen, there it is, the order. An iced, decaf, triple, rasberry, skim, extra hot, no foam, two sweet an' lo, double cupped latte. We have before us, the Middle-Aged, Middle-Class... yes, he does have the slight lisp.. Gay Man. Ah yes, there is his partner... note, while the order recited here is as should be given... for the sake of time and space, it was given over the span of 30 minutes, in various ways.
Now, let us make our way to this other Starbucks habitat... yes, behind this display stand, no one pays attention to it.
I see... what is this... a female... college student, note the books and papers... the style of clothing, sheer, skimpy... quite provocative... I believe we have here the Affluent Suburban Princess, College Variety we shall know for certain when she orders... now, that's odd. She just ordered a coffee. I'm amazed folks, we simply have here a Smart-Attractive College Co-Ed... truly a rarit... what's this!? A line of them, out the door?! Truly odd... must spend more time observing this habitat... find what attracts them all to this location...
Ah, here is another commonality, the Jockus-Idiotous. Here we have the jeans, college jacket, with pins... the slightly vacant expression. These commonly order 'Regular Coffee' only after asking for the flavored of the day. Listen, it speaks now.... hmmm... odd. That was a funny joke. A fluke. Sorry folks, sometimes these things happen... now comes the order... a cappuchino? Hmmm... I may have misjudged this customer by his close resemblance to the Jockus, when instead, we have another rarity, the Cool College Guy. Very strange... there is something about this location... ah well.
Thank you for joining me on this fascinating study of the Starbucks Clientle Tour... more to come later.
posted by Mike at 1:24 PM link/comments
*tumbleweeds roll through blog*
posted by Kate at 9:07 AM link/comments
Monday, May 07, 2001
Growl. More angst on the dealing-with-egomanical-professors front. This prof I'm working with on a departmental website is so desperate to take credit for the site I'VE written that he actually uploaded the (unfinished, mind you) files from a temporary directory to the proper directory, but of course he doesn't know what he's doing, so it's all buggered. This man truly needs a lesson on letting go. I want to tell him that no one's going to take away his Man License if a woman writes his department's webpage. Growl.
posted by Kate at 10:25 AM link/comments
I should have known there'd be a site addressing the issue ...
posted by Kate at 9:38 AM link/comments
A noogie, Bill, is when someone grabs your head and furiously runs their knuckles across your scalp.
posted by Kate at 9:33 AM link/comments
Sunday, May 06, 2001
umm - flag dispensers - good
noogie - wtf?
PayPal - shitty
weekend - fantastic - photos soon
Holly's new job - congratulations, I always had great faith in you.
Paully's new box - rock and ROLL!!! 256megs of RAM is very very sexy. Also GeForce cards are rock.
Countdown : 25 days Kate, 32 days Mum.
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 8:08 PM link/comments
today i am jittery and panicky because i keep expecting there to be a moment in which i realize that: i have a paper due tomorrow; i have seventeen essays i need to grade by tomorrow; there are two books, both of which i need to have read by tomorrow; i am missing office hours and three student appointments as we speak. also, a thick fog has rolled in and settled on my brain.
idaho is calling my name. before i go i want to slap mike burton for teasing us with short posts. also, i want to provide this bragging information:
Processor: Pentium III 750 mhz that i will overclock to slightly over 1 ghz.
Memory: 256 megs PC 150
Storage: 20 gig Western Digital 7200 rpm
Graphics: GeForce 2 Ultra with 32 megs DDR RAM.
my old computer will become an internet/print server, and an archive database, and will run backup for people who want to come play video games with me over the network. i am the geek to end all geeks. yo.
posted by Paully at 2:35 PM link/comments
Have survived Paully's graduation weekend, in all its glory of pomp, hugs, rain, mud, and dining out. All is well, and Paul Cockeram (B.A., M.A.) and Jen Hirt (B.A., M.A.) will be in blog absentia for a week while they scout out remote separatists camps in northern Idaho. On a government-separatist sidenote, I recently read that Randy Weaver, icon and near-martyr of the FBI's botched Ruby Ridge incident, now lives in Iowa and drives a Mercedes or Cadillac or something very non-separatist like that.
Yeah for Holly and her new salary, and what-the-hell to Kate and her self-adhesive miniature flag dispenser. For years I've taken such pride in my non-adhesive oversized flag dispenser and now you've outdone me, you office-supply harlot.
posted by Jen at 2:02 PM link/comments
Saturday, May 05, 2001
*Sneaks a quick look into the blog... wanders casually around for a bit examing the posts... then pants Paully, gives Holly a wet willy, and Billy a noogie... quickly disappearing before caught*
posted by Mike at 4:52 PM link/comments
Friday, May 04, 2001
A self adhesive miniature flag dispenser?? Now, in my rational mind, i know that you mean those little one-eighth sized post-its that you can mark books and other such paper-based materials with. However, the rest of my brain prefers to believe that you left the office supply fair with a device that will allow you to run around with wild abandon sticking miniature copies of every country's flag to things that need just that kind of highlight. Would you try to coorespond the identity of each flagged object with its appropriate country? Would they include extra flags for Taiwan since so much stuff is made there? Would you have to collect them as you travel round the globe? Would people put them on their cars like those god-awful "D" and "GB" stickers? You know, the white ones with the black circle?
posted by Melinda at 7:09 PM link/comments
I am such a dork. Just went over to the student union in search of lunch, and was reminded when I walked in the door that today is the semi-annual office products fair! And in spite of all my constant bitching about the evils of multinational corporations and their minions, something carried me onward to the large ballroom containing lavish table displays and balding, sinister-looking office supply salespeople. Why? Because to an underpaid employee, "office supply fair" equates to one thing: Free Stuff. Here now is an inventory of what I got for enduring a few sales pitches: I am embarrassingly happy about all of this.
* a container of roll-on correction tape
*2 pens, one ballpoint and one of those newfangled rolly gel-writers
*a self-adhesive miniature flag dispenser
*2 letter openers (i stole an extra one to take home)
* Post-It notes in varying shapes and colors
* some weird solution with which to clean my computer monitor
* a static-charged computer/office equipment dust remover rag
* a miniature stapler for me to carry in my purse along with the approximately 9,528 unnecessary objects I cart around in there
* some yellow pocket folders
* a cd-rom storage pocket with an adhesive backing so I can stick it to a folder or binder.
posted by Kate at 12:28 PM link/comments
Bloody 'ell. Link to Utne Reader article won't work. To read, copy and paste this into your browser bar: http://www.utne.com/bCulture.tmpl?command=search&db=dArticle.db&eqheadlinedata=A%20death%20in%20texas
posted by Kate at 9:22 AM link/comments
* Itinerary = goooood.
* Working outside with plants = sounds better than sitting in office right now.
* Holly = rockin.
* My new work computer = monitor finally arrived yesterday. pretty.
* Paully = needs to tell us intimate details about new computer. but do not want to hear intimate details about salmon.
* Utne Reader article = read it here.
* Last episode of Survivor = didn't watch it. in fact, have never watched it. so have nothing to say.
* That SNL movie The Ladies Man = not exactly cinematic masterpiece, but surprisingly funny in parts.
* Work = spending day doing end-of-academic-year expense reports. bleargh.
* This post = finished.
posted by Kate at 9:13 AM link/comments
Thursday, May 03, 2001
here you can see a copy of my itenerary - courtesy of the lovely two Matthews over at Rhodes Corporate Travel (whose website is down, damn them). Very very very very excited
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 7:05 PM link/comments
NPR did an interesting story this week on public executions, since some folks are going to be allowed to watch Timothy McVeigh die on closed-circuit TV, which sort of qualifies as a public execution. The last public execution in this country was held in Kentucky in the 30s when a man was hanged after he raped and killed a rich woman. The event was widly popular with the general populice because the sheriff of the Kentucky town in question was a woman (she took over the position after her husband died), and protocol at the time suggested that the sheriff of whatever district was executing someone should be the one to pull the lever that released the floor under the noose. People were like, "Hey! A woman's going to kill someone! Let's all go to Kentucky and watch!" About 20,000 people showed up to watch, and the town turned it into the 1930s equivalent of a Yankee Stadium day game. They had concessions, vendors, prizes, the whole bit. In the end, the masses were disappointed because the sheriff decided to stay home and have a deputy pull the lever. The public execution thing: *sigh* I guess if the families of the Oklahoma City victims feel that watching McVeigh writhe around on a gurney, gurgling while poison ruins his insides, will bring them some necessary closure, then fine. I'm thankfully not in any position to say how I'd feel toward a person who killed one of my loved ones. But I do know that people tend to have mixed reactions after witnessing an execution. I read an article a while back in the Utne Reader written by a guy who had an ongoing correspondence with a death row inmate, and the inmate invited him to witness his execution. The writer said that the family of the person he killed was in attendence. Some of them felt vindicated afterwards. Some of them said, "Hey, wait. That didn't help one bit." Who knows. While I agree that letting the populice at large witness an execution could be a way to make them feel accountable for the policies they support, I still don't think it should happen. First of all, I think that if it were my family member who had been killed, I'd really resent having the responsible party's execution become a giant media spectacle and a source of entertainment for our sick, voyeuristic, obsessed-with-reality-tv society. Secondly, I simply don't think people are prepared to see it. I've never seen anyone die, but from the description in the Utne Reader, it ain't pretty. It's a disgusting, terrifying process. At least during public hangings, they draped the soon-to-be-deceased in a hood so no one had to see his facial expression, or his eyes bugging out of his head. I don't know why people are fascinated with the process of death. We'll all get to experience it eventually, so why the hell should we dwell on it now?
posted by Kate at 3:18 PM link/comments
Congratulations, O HollyBear! I had no idea they were going to make a decision about that position so soon. In any event, you rock. You rock the packed arena of social work to its lowly foundation. Today Housemate Jen had a job interview at this esteemed university, so she and I went and had a lovely lunch on a patio outside the cafe of the Cleveland Museum of Art. Then we went to visit the new Salvador Dali painting the museum acquired last week: "The Dream." Good stuff. Jen gave me a lesson about old school vs. new school art evaluation. Apparently, an artist's painting ability used to be judged on how visible his or her brush strokes were. Less evident brush strokes = better artist. Now no one believes that anymore. In any case, it's nearly impossible to see the brushstrokes on "The Dream," so Jen said he used "the old school method." Just sharing my art lesson with the lot of you. Boring, perhaps, but I guess I don't have a whole lot to post at the moment.
posted by Kate at 2:50 PM link/comments
Say say babies. Sorry I haven't blogged recently, but I've been up to my armpits in yucky icky work stuff, I still am, but had to take a break to inform my posse that I am either a) kicking serious career ass and moving up in the world or b) an absolute moron setting myself up for disaster on the scale of a Presidental Campaign for Timothy McVeigh.
As an aside - years ago we were discussing public executions, I am in favor. Not because I am pro or anti capitalist punsihment, or because I think it would change anybody's mind, or even because I would want to watch them (Kate is sure to gasp in surprise, but I actually wouldn't, it would disgust me). I think they should be public because they are publicly sanctioned activites. If the public is in favor of it to the point where it is an established part of our government, we should not hide it in corners. People need to look at reality, even if it is ugly. Particulary when it is a reality they help create. I'm not sure whether I agree with capital punishment in theory;it is not fairly or effectively enforced so I abhor it in practice. Mostly because we are not honest with ourselves. It does not deter crime. It is not our right to presume godlike retribution. It is a group/society saying "we don't let people who do that live with us on this planet." I don't think that's such a bad reason. Just ugly.
Anyway - back to the point. Holly McCoy, two years ago lowly Employment Support Specialist ($20,000), currently somewhat low ISIS program coordinator($25,000), will offically become in July the slightly even less low Director of Transitional Housing ($30,000). It is a nationally recognized and awarded program with 30 (I had thought 15 earlier) houses. We take homeless people, put them through classes and intense case management, and put them in houses with an option to buy in two years, if they reach their goals.
I hope I am not a dismal dismal failure.
posted by Holly at 2:19 PM link/comments
Wednesday, May 02, 2001
First day at work: lots of fun, was lovin the plants to death.
Second day: forgot that my slack-ass body cannot handle the sun for eight straight hours. Felt like fainting under the fuschias.
Third day: discovered the joy of rain. Came home to Paully's announcement that he'd bought salmon (dinner) and a computer (indulgence).
posted by Jen at 6:18 PM link/comments
alright, here's the score, for those of you still keeping score: paully 50, students 2. clearly i am the victor. i just did that machismo thing where i kiss my own biceps and then sniff my underarms because thats how cool i feel right now. when i wanted to celebrate my victory with a peanut butter milkshake from my local Dairy Queen (one of three DQs in Ames alone--Iowa loves to suck from the teat of mother ice cream), it was pouring down rain but i got rockstar parking just outside the freaking door and didnt hardly get moist. because DQ took one look at me and understood my victoriousness. papers: graded. last short story: nearly written. parents: coming. this-colon-using-technique-i've-just-stumbled-upon: annoying.
now, i was just talking about the punctuation colon, like this: ":". but if you were thinking colon as in the place poop slides through in the human body, dont be disappointed: i have a story about that, too.
one time when i was working at copyworks, someone came into the store bearing photographs of the interior of her colon. her plan was to have me make color copies of these colon-cam pictures with a little inset image of her sitting inside the colon itself, and she asked me for advice on a really witty caption, something like "Holy shit, it's Christmas." i suggested she go with something more understated, like "Merry Christmas from my large bowel." i felt kind of bad because she seemed disappointed that i wasnt shocked or horrified that she wanted to send people photos of her colon in a Christmas card. and then i apostrophized to her in my mind: "Lady, youre trying too hard."
only weeks before this colon incident, an attractive young woman asked one of my friends to make color copies of a stack of photos of her, and in each photo she was wearing progressively less clothing, until there was a money shot, the full monty if you will, and it turned out to be her slightly-slutty-but-creative-and-therefore-respectable way of asking him out. but he turned her down, citing the girlfriend for whom he had left California to come to Iowa (he grew up in Hawaii and was named Kaeo and was in an episode of Magnum PI as a lad--he said Magnum was nice, but that pilot friend of his was nicer and bought everyone ice cream). i only mention this to remind you all that my recent victory against the forces of mediocre argument papers by ISU freshmens and freshwomens is duly earned, since i was the one copying bowels while my friends were copying firm young tarts.
i have a fantasy of posting some photos of my graduation on the web. it should be a lot of fun. if you squint, you might even make out the tassel on my gown that will soon be a full-blown fashion craze.
posted by Paully at 2:31 AM link/comments
Tuesday, May 01, 2001
you grew up on Route 66?
you are now 43% cooler than you were 30 seconds ago - you rock my world.
my porn name would be Gus Park. Which is rather boring really.
In other news, PayPal sucks rancid monkey anuses.
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 11:50 PM link/comments
See, I always heard that your porn name was supposed to be the name of your first pet and the street you grew up on. Given this equation, my porn name would be Danny Route 66. I love that.
posted by Kate at 9:31 AM link/comments
ooooer.... pretttyyyyyyyy (and to think, i just got paid........)
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 12:07 AM link/comments