Peri's Pet Parlor

The Girls - Cinnamon and Jasmine

This is a picture of my two best dog friends, Cinnamon and Jasmine. I've never actually met them, of course -- Why would I? I mean, come on, they're dogs...just kidding, Girls, just kidding -- but if I were ever gonna hang with some canines, these would be the bitches I'd wanna hang with. I don't get out much but now that we live in the same town, who knows, maybe we'll get together and cause some trouble.

Anyway, word is these sisters are quite a pair. Miss Jasmine is the little lady, while Cinnamon is a bit more out there. They keep their mom on her toes, especially when Cinnamon gets the munchies 'cause the girl can go to town. They're both older than me (I promised I wouldn't say how old, even in human years) but they can kick up their paws with the best of 'em.

I still don't get what the deal is with e-mail, but since they haven't tried to stuff me in that plastic box to take me to the stick my butt with needles place lately, I guess it's all good. Maura said something about CatFancy.com, a fan letter, and them maybe wanting me to do a guest column or blog for them, too. I dunno, tho, that place is kinda fuddy-duddy. There's hardly any purple on the pages and most of the cats in the pictures look like someone just stuck their butts with needles. Not that I look at the pictures much, I just go there for the articles.

Well, gotta go -- the flappy things outside my window are getting busy and I have to make sure I keep an eye on them in case...well, just in case. Poop happens, ya know.

Roses are...

Late Summer Roses

Roses are red,
Roses are pink,
Summer's soon to end,
I rather think.

The house I've recently moved into came complete with over a half-dozen mature, blooming and beautiful rose bushes. This made leaving behind the one bush I'd planted myself and tended to for years a little easier. I've been taking one bud at a time in to work with me every few days, to put in the tiny little vase I have there, and brighten up the place.

But yesterday, my mom gave me a crystal bowl that we've had in our family for many years, in yet another round of the "Trade the household items back and forth" game we've been playing for the last decade. (The game goes something like this: "You want to put my recliner in your living room?" "Sure, do you want to take this picture and put it on that wall?" "Great! How about putting that coffee table in with the recliner?" "Cool. Want to swap dressers? That one would go better in my room." Etc.)

So I finally had a decent vessel to put some of the open roses into today. Now, I am no sort of flower arranger, but it's kind of hard to mess up roses and I was pretty pleased with how it came out. Since I was berating myself earlier in the day for not taking my camera with me when I really could have used it -- normally I take it everywhere! -- while up in San Francisco at the 2004 T-Mobile International bicycle race, I decided to make it up to myself a bit by snapping a few shots of the blooms.

The above (bad) rhyme and other three paragraphs are a really long-winded way of saying: Enjoy the rest of the summer while it lasts and take time to stop and, er....view the roses!

Three Years Hence

Three years hence
and here we stand,
looking back
through time and fear,
sorrow and reflection,
to a world that stopped,
briefly.
Now poised
upon a precipice
of change and rebuilding,
promise and remembrance,
we seek a balance
between the need
to move forward
and the need
to never forget.
We struggle
to maintain
purpose and meaning,
acceptance and resolve,
in the face of
unanswered questions
and unassuaged anger.
In meeting
these challenges,
unwanted and terrible,
stinging and unforgiving,
only we can make
the difference
between faded hope
and enduring legacy.

Unexpected Circular Thinking

Recently, Cbeck talked about his experience with the "Next Blog" function that has been introduced into the new Blogger Navbar, and how to deal with the...shall we say..."undesirable" blogs that you can encounter while using it. And encounter them you will.

I've done my fair share of Next Blog surfing since it became available, and I've found both some interesting blogs and a whole mess of really bad and/or uninteresting ones. Later I want to introduce you to some of those I've found that I like. But first, three of the worst characteristics of the undesirables I've come across are:

1. Blogs that make you click "OK" on their little pop-up boxes, usually containing indecipherable or cryptic messages, before you can have the dubious honor of viewing their offerings. This is annoying. Being annoyed predisposes me to not think kindly of your blog. If you do this, 99.9% of the time I will be clicking on Next Blog before you can type "LOL."

2. Blogs that blast (bad) music at me as soon as the page loads. This is highly annoying. This guarantees that I will have clicked Next Blog before I can read a single word.

If your blog does either of these first two and combines it with the indignity of trying to launch a "spam deleting" program that I have to say no to repeatedly before it will let me move on, you are condemned to the lowest depths of the blogosphere in my book.

3. Blogs that are created for the sole purpose of advertising some fly-by-night business. I haven't come across too many of them, but the ones I have are pretty despicable. They have post after post after identical post with links to whatever their purported business is. I imagine they post repeatedly to increase the chances of being picked up by the Next Blog function. I believe that Blogger has gotten wise to this, however, because two of the links I noted can no longer be found. Bravo Blogger!

These impediments have not stopped me from compulsively clicking on Next Blog when I'm bored or uninspired, hoping to cull the wheat from the chaff and find the one gem that's going to make me want to visit again and again.

Sometimes I'm amazed by the variety of it all, even when so many of the templates look the same.

Sometimes I'm surprised by coming across a blog that I've already hit on a second or third time, given that there are so, so many of them.

And sometimes I'm simply astonished by finding something from someone I know from the blogging world, something I didn't know about until I came across it by coincidence while clicking on Next Blog.

This was my experience, not five minutes ago -- truly -- while in the middle of writing this entry. (I hop around a lot while I'm composing, I can't just stay in one "place" and write.) To have had this happen when it did, and by whom, was true serendipity. It brought things around full circle because it was from none other than Cbeck.

In memorium

The Vigil

Tonight was pretty interesting. I got there a few minutes before the vigil was due to start, and people were milling around the front of the church where it was taking place. Some people had their candles already lit, so I asked someone for a light and waited to see what would happen next. More people filtered into the yard and the group got bigger than I expected, but in a good way.

I didn't hear anyone actually say anything, but all of sudden right at 8:00, it seemed like the whole group turned and walked toward the street, lining up along it with candles lit. I heard one woman kind of whine, "I thought we were going to get into a circle..." but she was pretty much ignored.

There was a solemn moment, when I felt like we all were thinking about why we were actually there. Then a horrific squeal split the air and we all turned back to the church steps with a group cringe where the pastor was trying to use a bullhorn to address us. He quickly abandoned the bullhorn, so of course we couldn't all really hear him. But I did catch him thanking us for being there, reiterating that it was meant to be a silent vigil and he liked that we had moved to the street like that. We all turned back to the street, candles aloft, some people holding signs, some people holding two candles. There were candles of all varieties, but I do believe mine was the only purple one.

We were all settling into it, getting a sense of how it was going to go, when I noticed a young girl there with her mother who wasn't really getting the "silent" part and Mom wasn't reminding her. When she busted out with, "Does anyone know any anti-war songs? 'Cause I sure don't!" that was when I decided I needed to find a different place to stand.

As a matter of fact, a lot of people didn't really get the "silent" part of the whole thing. In a world with a cell phone stuck to its ear, I guess the only bad thought is now the unexpressed one. At least the two ladies I ended up next to managed to chatter sotto voce.

The reaction we got was, thankfully, universally positive. There wasn't much at first, apart from a general slowdown of passing cars. Then I heard from a passing car, "Bush sucks!" Now, there really was nothing political in what was going on -- there were no election signs, no partisan indications, nothing controversial -- but a few people passing by did so with less than favorable things to say about Bush.

The only time I had a twinge of worry was when a guy in an old pickup truck almost screeched to a halt in front of where I was standing and I thought, "Uh-oh, here we go." But then he bellowed, "It's our motherfucking president's fault! That's what it is. Blame that mother..." which trailed off as he accelerated down The Alameda. I think we all kind of breathed a sigh of amused relief because it wasn't what we expected.

The darker it got, the more people seemed to be willing to honk, which was the most common response. In between the cycles of the nearby traffic lights, when few or no cars passed by, it was easier to focus on the why of the vigil and reflect on the lost lives. During those times I found I was locking my knees, so I had to concentrate on not doing that, because that can be a one-way ticket to passing out if you do it long enough.

After a while, I felt comfortable enough to bring out the digital camera. There had been people taking pictures on and off, so I didn't feel too conspicuous doing so by that point. Right as I was taking the first one, my candle -- which had been burning a bit more rapidly than I would have liked -- finally dripped over the little paper wax-catcher ring and burned my thumb a bit. Ouch, but I got a semi-decent shot anyway. After taking a few more, my little paper wax-catcher ring caught on fire because the candle had really burned down, so that curtailed the photo-taking for a bit. While the picture I chose to show above is not what you would call a technically good one, it was the most interesting of the ones I took and, to me, best represents the sense of being there because it wasn't so much about the faces of the people, but the signs and the light.

After about 20 minutes, we saw a smaller group of candle-bearing people coming toward us down the other side of the street. They lined up across from us, though it was clear they were part of the same group, and things got quiet again for a little while. After a while, one of them crossed the street and let us know they had come down from the nearby highway overpass and they were ready to go back that way and wanted us to join them. I wasn't sure if people were going to go, since it was about 15 minutes until when it was all supposed to be over. But I figured it was in for a penny, in for a pound, so I joined the migration.

Once we got there, horn honks were in abundance, from the street and from the highway below us. People got a little chattier, and I found myself next to a guy who I had overheard right at the start, asking the guy now on the other side of him the same question he asked me: Are you with MoveOn? When I answered in the affirmative, he said, "Right on." I don't think he saw the irony in that response.

It was beginning to look like things were winding down and a few people were heading off when, right at 9:00 -- a full 15 minutes after it was all supposed to be over -- along comes a news van. Right On Guy got a little excited and I think he was ready for his moment in front of the camera. But it never came. For some reason, the camera guy and reporter chose to go to the other side of the street, even though there were far fewer people on that side. The street is a rather broad and busy one, so I didn't blame them for not wanting to cross in the middle of the overpass. They took some footage of us from afar, but I know my new friend was disappointed.

Once they left, and people's candles were starting to burn down and sputter out, more people started to drift off. Mine was down to an interesting half-inch, which had become affixed to the charred little paper wax-catcher that I was using to hold it, when I decided to call it a night, too.

If we accomplished anything by making people think about where we're at with this war -- both those of us there and those driving by -- then it was time well spent.

Antevigil

I am, in fact, going to attend the candlelight vigil tonight. It would be accurate to say that I am both looking forward to it and am nervous about doing it. The e-mail I got confirming my participation encourages people to take digital camera pictures, so it's possible that I'll have something along those lines to share. But maybe not -- depends on the vibe, as far as I'm concerned. So I'm off in a minute to go buy a candle -- mine are all still packed -- and it will be a purple one, in case you were wondering.

You know how "they" say that, eventually, we all turn in to our parents? It just hit me that my conflicting feelings about this are probably directly related to the characteristics I inherited from my parents -- I think my dad would be looking forward to it and I think my mom would be nervous about doing it.

The somewhat nervous part of me feels that I should mention that if I don't post later tonight about how it went, I'm probably sitting in jail. Is that likely? No. I just have this image of a bunch of angry vets showing up and it turning ugly. It's not supposed to be, it's supposed to be very quiet, dignified and non-political. But you never know. This would likely be why I don't normally attend these kinds of events -- fear of the unknown.

Damn, better make sure that my cell phone is fully charged, huh?

'Cause my momma told me so

She really did. She called me at work to ask me if I'd seen the commercial with Edie Falco in it. Once I got over being flabbergasted that she knows who Edie Falco is -- she's not what you could even remotely call a fan of The Sopranos -- I was immediately interested when she described it because while I hadn't seen it, I think Ms. Falco kicks ass.

And now she's all MOBbed up, for real. The commercial is there, if you want to see it. I figure about half of you will run in the opposite direction, based on opinions you've expressed, but I respect that. I don't understand it, but I respect it.

I received something else somewhat related in my e-mail today. I believe I mentioned quite a while ago that I belong to MoveOn.org. I can't say that I 100% support all the actions they espouse, and it's not something in which I have actively taken a role or to which I have contributed time or money. But I can say that up to now it has, if nothing else, gotten me more involved in contacting the Congress members in my area about issues that matter to me. The organization makes it very easy to do that through e-mail campaigns and it has led to my receiving more information from the two main ones, which I appreciate.

Today I got a message letting me know about candlelight vigils that will be held across the country tomorrow night in honor of the 1,000+ soldiers that have been killed in Iraq in service to the U.S. Attending an event like this is not something that I have ever done. I may be, to some, a bleeding-heart liberal but my heart tends to bleed unseen under my sleeve because I am, for the most part, a private person. I can't tell you why (and not just because I'm being private!) but I want to go.

Maybe because I want to do something and I feel pretty impotent about fomenting change in my community, let alone my country. Maybe because supporting the troops but not supporting why they're there needs an outlet right now. Maybe because the parents, spouses, lovers and children of the members of our military services who have died should know that those of us who haven't lost someone care about their loved ones and are affected by their loss. Maybe because I need to feel a part of something right now, and to see that there are other people who might share that feeling.

Oh, and maybe because as I discovered yesterday, I've gotten my "second wind" on the political thing to some degree. Just in time with only 54 more days to go!

And because I will definitely be voting --and I have a feeling that you will be, too -- it's the American way to be rewarded for that, isn't it? So go here and see if we can't both be rewarded.

Color me claret

After a three-day weekend...for most of us...on that first day back, who really wants to think all that hard about anything? So this link is the easiest "personality" quiz you'll ever take -- all you have to do is be able to pick your birth month out of twelve columns. Don't let the pretty colors distract you!

Okay, it's a goofy little thing, but sometimes you've got to take the goofy with the good. Once you take that leap, pick your month, read about "your color," what it says about you and what others colors can influence certain aspects of your life. You can also, if you're so inclined, send along an e-card to share the joy with someone else. And couldn't we all use a little more rainbow in our lives?

If you're really into the concept at this point, you can also click on the "learn more" area and get the whole flash presentation on what it's all about. It's kinda new age-y, but I've seen worse. "Your birthday color may or may not be your favorite color, but it is a color designed to nurture the real you to recognize, celebrate and honor your own true colors. While your color preferences may change as you evolve, your birthday color remains constant." You know, a lot like some women's ages once they pass twenty-nine.

Peri's Pet Parlor

Me

So Maura woke me up from a nap to do this, for the price of some of my favorite treats. If she thinks I'm going to do this each week, she'd better go get a whole bunch more because I can't be bought that cheap. Typing with paws is not the easiest thing to do, especially when she's clipping my nails all the time.

This is me chilling in one of my favorite spots in my mom's room. I tried to let Maura know I was having a Garbo moment, but she kept chasing me with that stupid flashy thing so I sat still for this one to get her out of my fur.

Anyway, she thinks I should be the one sharing pet pictures with you here. Not that I've ever actually met another animal -- apart from that one time when some hairball came up to my screen door and tried to pick a fight, but Mom broke it up before it got good and he never had the cojones to come back -- but she says I have something called "perspective." Whatever. As long as she coughs up those treats, and maybe a few more of those damned white mice that keep disappearing, I guess I can give up a little snooze time.

I have no idea what e-mail is, but apparently I have it. So long as it doesn't mean that I gotta go to that place where they stick my butt with needles, I'm cool with it. Sounds like you can use it to send me stuff; stuff like letters, gift certificates to Petco, gift certificates to Petsmart, and, oh yeah, pictures of pets. I'd rather have the gift certificates, but I guess the point is the pictures. I don't see why they have to be your own pets, it's not like I'll know the difference. So if you have any good ones feel free to send them.

Or not, I don't really care, because I'm overdue for an appointment with my Littermaid.

Sad news

It is with a very sad and heavy heart that I feel compelled to pass along to you some unfortunate news.

Yesterday, after I had finished but not yet published my post sharing with you the link to the wonderful pictures of Hudson, and gone back to the tedious matter of work, Hudson's dad, Robb, began to post about Hudson being sick and headed to the vet's office.

I learned later that he updated during the afternoon and things got worse, then a bit better but still not good. I did not have the opportunity to catch up on these development before publishing my prepared entry, which in hindsight was a regrettable oversight on my part.

There is no other way to do it but to tell you that today I learned that Hudson didn't get better and, I am so very sorry to say, he didn't make it. It's heartbreaking to have celebrated a beautiful cat one day and have to share something so utterly sad the next.

I hope you'll send Robb your best and give your own furry friends a little extra love today.

Oooh, catblogging!

I happened by Sharp as a Marble this morning to catch up on the last few days and found he had once again posted some great pictures of his cat, Hudson. (Great picture of his beautiful daughter there, too, but as I am daughterless I won't be emulating that!) This post has what is, thus far, my favorite of the pictures he has featured. And with a "Carnival of Cats" promised sometime for the future, there's more to look forward to there.

What I would like to know is why Norman has not once given him a hard time about his catblogging since he started. (It's true, I checked.) Granted, most of his pictures are a lot better than mine -- and those on most every other catblogging I've seen, gratuitous or otherwise -- but the man is a professional photographer. The quality improvement is, therefore, to be expected. But it's still catblogging, so what gives? Hmmm?

I figure this is as good as any time to announce the imminent return of catblogging to One Ping Only. This upcoming long weekend, I will labor away on the format with my new blogging partner and I hope to unveil it for your holiday enjoyment.

This post is in the can and coming to you early (for me) because I have yet another fun-packed evening planned. Thanks to the generosity of my friends Rita and Eddie (who, by the by, is Squeaky-Ruby's dad and official photographer), friends and I will be going to the SF 49ers pre-season game tonight against the San Diego Chargers. It has a late start (8:00pm) for some reason, and I have to drive my companions up into the big, bad city afterwards, so I anticipate my return to the Valley to be fairly late into the night.

I need to get to sleep at a decent time just once this week or I'm going to crash. So in the interest of spending the time between getting home and going to bed by watching tonight's episode of Big Brother 5 (it's "live" eviction night!) on TiVo instead of slaving away here, a little pre-planning was necessary. Don't worry, it won't become a habit.

A Night on the Town, Playing Possum

Because, as I've mentioned before in passing, I enter a lot of contests (like every one I come across that appeals to me), from time to time interesting things show up at my door unexpectedly. Yesterday was one of those days.

On a mere one day's notice I was awarded the chance to go see Dame Edna's new show, "Back with a Vengeance, " in its pre-Broadway run up in San Francisco. If you don't know who Dame Edna is or what her act is all about, skip that paragraph or go check out the site above because I'm too tired to explain it to you right now.

So April and I trekked up to Baghdad by the Bay (it is still okay to call SF that, or does that politicize things?) for a quick, inexpensive bite before the show at Lefty O'Doul's, which is apparently an institution, and which neither of us had ever been to before. The food was good, though not great, but I got to watch the Giants game for a while so it was time well-spent. We were still early -- this does not happen very often where I am involved -- so we walked around the theatre area for a while, dodging all manner of characters and not finding a single decent place to get some post-dinner, pre-theatre dessert!

The show was a delightful and hysterical combination of improvisation and in-character patter that had her devoted audience of possums, many of whom ended up on stage as part of the show, in stitches. To those who were asked but chose not to go: You. Missed. Out.

It ran a little longer than I had anticipated, but once I got over my intermission-length yawning stint I was ready to hit the long trail back to the South Bay, especially with the promise of sweet succor along the way. It has become our tradition to stop at Krispy Kreme on the drive home and, although the "hot doughnut" light was not on, it was as delectable as ever. To those who were asked but chose not to go: You. REALLY. Missed. Out.

Now if I could just win tickets to something that actually takes me out of the greater Bay Area, life would be looking up.

What the World Needs Now

Today is all about love. Because, really, shouldn't every day be about the love? And after all the negativity I put out into the universe yesterday, I feel like I owe it to myself and the world to balance things out, karmically.

Love Note #1 - To: Kimberly at Squoogy. Much love coming your way. Because your kindness and generosity in helping a less-than-savvy blogger get that "Register to Vote" button up there with a minimum of pain was sisterhood at its finest. My thanks and admiration.

Love Note #2 - To Gary Bibb at Bibb's Revenge. Because I'm glad to have you here, for as long as you desire.

Love Note #3 - To Copygodd at Ingrown Brain Stem. Because I think you need some after putting up with Fat Dude's passive-aggressive nature for as long as you have!

Love Note #4 - To Getupgrrl at Chez Miscarriage. Because you are an inspiration to me and to women throughout the blogging world, fertile and infertile alike. Your amazing strength, unflagging humor and absolutely phenomenal storytelling leave me in awe.

Love Note #5 - To cbeck at Feeding the Habit. Because you reminded us that love is among the greatest gifts to be found, let alone given, and your sharing that with us deserves a little love flowing in your direction.

Temporary blog detour -- please obey all signs

This was one of those days when I didn't have that much in the tank and there was, apparently, only one post floating around in there. I was so ticked off when I read an article about the absurdly light punishment meted out to the jerk who assaulted a runner mid-marathon at the Olympics that I couldn't keep it all bottled up for another 11 hours. (The fact that I was having yet another crappy day at work may have had something to do with it. Who knows.) So the cork was popped and the rest of the bottle went flat before I dragged my sorry self home.

So, in what is actually not intended to be shameless self-promotion, I must to point you to my other blog for today's post. Really, there's not a lot to promote. The poor thing has suffered terribly from inattention since its inception because it takes me so long to write; most days it's all I can do to crank out one here. Eventually I'll get around to updating it and adding the features I've fought with long enough to smush into the template here. Or, at least, one can hope.

Circular thinking

Because I recall popcorn having a starring role in my dreams last night, this post at Plooble caught my eye this morning. I had never visited Plooble before, but it caught my eye while visiting One Good Thing today because of its similarity to a word I used in my post from Friday, which I thought I'd made up, but apparently I didn't.

(Disclaimer: Friday's post had no connection whatsoever with the Neopets of the same name. One Ping Only, its employees, agents and assigns do not endorse the use, misuse, abuse, adoration, or Googling of Poogles, or any other Neopets, in any way. This is primarily because we do not really have any idea what they are or exactly what purpose they serve. Any similarity or negative implication inferred in said post is entirely unintended and we respect the copyright and trademark rights Neopets may hold over the Poogle name. Please do not sue us.)

One Good Thing had caught my eye while visiting Frogblog a few weeks back because of the very fleeting similarity between its name and this blog's name. I thought for an equally fleeting moment that I had finally made frog's blog list, as she has been on mine pretty much from the start. But I am aware that not everyone you like, or at least like to read, in the blog world is necessarily going to like you or your blogging style in return, should they even be aware of your admiration from afar. All that aside, I have really enjoyed reading flea's posts at One Good Thing so I keep going back for more. I completely admire what she does for a living and, while our lives are almost completely dissimilar apart from being likeminded on the matter of people and couples being in charge of and responsible for their own pleasure regardless of how prudish this country is in general (and if I am mischaracterizing that, I do hope she will set me straight!), I think she is one heck of an entertaining writer.

Frogblog caught my eye early in the year while I was spending a good deal of my time trying to wrap my head around what blogging was and could be for me by compulsively checking the then easier-to-use "Recently published" list on Blogger and clicking links like crazy, because of a minor affection I have for frogs. At the time, my bathroom was done in a frog theme in a nod to that affection, which was sparked by a memorable backpacking trip last year where frogs seemed to be the theme.

I thought when I started this blog that it would be a good place to talk about my backpacking and camping trips, since I usually come back with so much to say about the experience and I don't really have any other outlet to express my observations, as I am a miserable journal-keeper. The irony is that I have not been able to go on a backpacking trip since I started the blog in January, through no fault of my own other than perhaps a lack of perseverance in meeting new people who share my interests.

Meeting new people used to be a lot easier, in my opinion. I can't put my finger on exactly what changed. I do know that as time has gone by and the mix of people at work has changed over the years, my enthusiasm for sharing pieces of myself with them has diminished, and that seems to have extended to other new acquaintences. I've also seen that there are other things that I have become unwilling to share with people at work. I keep a dish of candy on my desk that everyone is welcome to hit whenever one of those "I need chocolate NOW" moments occur; people seem to appreciate it and I enjoy having it there, since I'm not one of those people who can't resist sweets if they're right in front of me. But I was delighted to come across something last year that had previously escaped my attention: mini bags of microwave popcorn.

Popcorn is one of my favorite snacks, and even given the limitations of the microwave version as so aptly described at Plooble, there is something irresistable about it. I think most people agree that a regular-sized bag is more than they should eat by themselves on a regular basis, especially the super, mongo, all-the-butter-flavor-we-can-manage types I prefer. But it is, in my opinion, the ultimate snacking food and once you start it's hard to stop until you find yourself searching the leftover kernels for semi-popped ones that you can justify eating without a trip to the dentist for a cracked tooth. And since I like to be able to pick through the batch to find the tastiest morsels to eat first, and it's not polite to put your work-grubby fingers all over the pieces someone else might eat, I don't like to share.

This makes the discovery of the mini bags a seminal moment in my snacking life. I can polish off a whole bag without much guilt -- the nutritional information says there is only one serving in a bag instead of the three servings in a full-sized bag -- and it can be gone before the scent of faux butter and somewhat singed pieces wafts its way from the breakroom microwave out to my work area, where people then pick up their heads and sniff, trying to figure out where it's coming from and who has the goods in their cube.

Because I will share my chocolate, I will share my knowledge, I will share the passenger seat in my car whenever you want, I will share my thoughts, and I will share my toys because my mom taught me that was the right thing to do.

But share my popcorn? In your dreams.

Google My Poogle

I am extremely fortunate in that my new abode comes equipped with a swimming pool. And I must say that there is really nothing like being able to step out to the backyard on a warm evening and step into the pool. It was a very good way to end a difficult week, to just splash around like a fool and shake off the stress. It left me feeling pretty languorous and relaxed, so I wasn't up for much more than watching TV (Olympics, of course) and doing a little surfing and online shopping.

I was snapped out of my drowsiness by one of the first items I found. There should be a law against any Silicon Valley company using the term "bling-bling" at their online stores. (I think it would be too much to ask that just no one use it anymore.)

The Google Store™, I learned from the Google™ Blog, has been revamped and improved. (Really good to know since I didn't realize that there was a Google Store until today.) I considered giving in to the allure of the shiny, flashy, pretty thing calling out to me. But, as we've seen, I'm not Google Material anyway, especially since I completely bite at all things mathematical. So I guess I can save the two and a quarter needed to buy it, let alone the almost six dollars needed to ship it to me.

But, hmmm...if I throw in an umbrella, which clearly is something no one can live without, the shipping is only a buck more. If I took my cool light-up Googly pin and stuck it to my even cooler light-up Googly umbrella, I think I'd be one stylin' great Googly-Moogly blingmeister meisterbling. Don't you?

Yes, you're right -- it's time for me to go to sleep.

Nope

Turns out, after sitting here for a very long time, I really have nothing to say tonight. Having a crappy week at work sometimes has that effect on me. Throwing a messload of tomatoes at many someones sounds pretty good to me right now, so here's a timely article.

Goodnight and have a decent tomorrow.

"H" is for hardbody

Day 12 of the Summer Olympics is in the books, and there are only four more days to go. Swimming is history and track & field (which won the poll, by the way) is in full swing. There have been upsets, injuries, and controversies along with the usual inspirational stories, tears, and victory laps. If medal count is your thing, the US, China, and Australia are the top three and have hauled in a combined 170 medals.

Because of a terrible lapse in judgment on my part, the choice of "beach volleyball" was not included in the last poll. I had no idea it would be such a popular event, and I neglected to single it out. So, in honor of H (the underachiever), there is a new poll up that gets to the heart of the matter. If you check out his site, with its temporary name change, you will be in no doubt as to how he will be voting. But because I don't want him to have to choose between his favorite twosome -- I believe he said something about "an H sandwich" -- I hope he'll be delighted to learn that he can vote for them both, just to be fair.

If you're interested in a non-media perspective of the Olympics, check out this fun blog coming to us from Athens from a Brit who really gets around. It's like being there at the Games...well, like being there with a stuffed bird and a digital camera. Don't ask, just go see.

Administrative matters:
1. There is a new function available in Blogger that I have enabled today. You can now e-mail a link to a post to someone you think would enjoy it. (If you e-mail it for any other reason, I really don't want to know about it.) Click on the little envelope-with-an-arrow icon that is right next to (what I just learned is) the permalink of each post, which appears as the time of the post. I have not actually tried it out yet, so if you feel like being a guinea pig for me and giving it a whirl, let me know how it goes.

2. Zero-comment days really suck. I guess none of you (or at least those of you who are usually willing to comment!) are into the reality TV thing much.

We now return to our regularly scheduled blogging

Yeah, I'll say it's back to regular -- this post was lost not once, but twice. (And yes, I both saved it within Blogger and by doing a text copy before I saved -- neither one did the job in the end, I don't know why.) The heavy irony here is that I was in the middle of lauding the wonderfulness of my newly reconnected DSL when things went kaplooie. Now I don't get to use my Ferrari metaphor, and I do so love a good metaphor.

The problem is that I don't have anything much else to say. Kerry's appearance on The Daily Show was, as expected, interesting, but nothing to write home about. The piece on the Queens gas station owner who got his ass kicked by Getty for daring to go against them and lower the price of gas to unacceptable levels was more compelling.

So I'll mention my two new favorite reality TV blogs, where I get a kick out of reading their takes on The Amazing Race and Big Brother 5. This is kind of cheating because I already mentioned one of them earlier today, Too Much Free Time. Written by three people and covering a broad range of all things TV, they keep it brief and they keep it funny.

The second blog, TVgasm, has already made it on to my links list -- not that I imagine this is any sort of huge honor from their perspective, of course, just that I liked it enough right away to make the effort (since I don't use BlogRoll or the like) to go edit my template already, which I do as infrequently as possible -- but I don't think I've talked about it here. This is another team-written blog (hey, it takes a lot of hands on deck to cover the vast expanse of Reality TVLand) with five contributors, though I believe I've seen only three of them at work since I started reading. If you watch any of the current reality shows and have a sense of humor, you should stop by. The video they put together about the not-so-subtle homoerotic undercurrent between two now-evicted BB5 contestants, Scott and Jase, has become the stuff of legend. I can't wait for each week's recap of Amazing Race because it always cracks me up with how dead-on and creative it is.

Oh, and for those of us who are counting, there are only 22 more days until Survivor: Vanuatu premieres.

Please excuse us while we interrupt our normal blogging schedule for this late-breaking news:

Damn Olympics. Because of the drama over the judging in the men's gymnastics individual events last night, I elected to watch the NBC coverage instead of The Daily Show. With thanks to freakgirl at Too Much Free Time, I learned today that John Kerry is going to be on the show tonight.

Like him, dislike him, love him, hate him, or feel somewhat indifferent toward him (and no, I don't really want to hear where you stand on that particular point), you have to admit that getting him on the show is quite a coup and is going to be entertaining at the very least. Jon Stewart has been exercising his Kerry "stentorian voice," as I saw it referred to here (Reg. or BugMeNot required), in comic bits over the last few months, so it will be interesting to see how Kerry reacts to that if it comes up. Who knows? With some luck, a moment as classic as the "Boxers or briefs?" question asked of Clinton could occur. If it hasn't already, that is.

Please feel at liberty to "meet" here after the show to discuss your impressions. I'll be up.

Feelin' Frisky

No, not that kind of frisky, Mr. Cunningham. More like "tell the world how I really feel" kind of frisky.

"If I have to see that stupid McDonald's commercial that they've played a half-million times during the Olympics with the wacko woman in pukey green defending her dumb chicken strips against an empty room one more time I'm gonna hurl" kind of frisky.

"If I ever catch the jerky chick at work who leaves her disgusting mess in the ladies' room because she's too freaking lazy and inconsiderate to turn the hell around before leaving the stall, I'm probably going to be fired" kind of frisky.

You know, "go ahead and bump into me one more time with that damned shopping cart while we're waiting in line because you're impatient and busy trying to keep your whiny kids from putting their sticky hands on everything in sight and I'm going to shove that cart so far up where the sun don't shine that it will take a team of proctologists a week to figure out where you start and the cart ends" kind of frisky.

So now that I'm all good and worked up, allow me to direct you to a site that accurately captures my enmity towards all things Hummer, FUH2, "...home of the official Hummer H2 salute." (Thanks to Sean for the link!) Some of the submitters could work on their language skills, but the spirit is there and I'm all about its spirit. Some of the stories about Hummer drivers reacting to the salute are downright scary examples of road rage based on next-to-nothing.

I'm usually somewhat embarrased to live in a state with a huge Hummer proponent as its governor (Reg. or BugMeNot required) and where you'll probably find the largest proportion of Hummer owners -- and, consequently, more pictures on the FUH2 site -- so having the chance to join the saluters makes me smile.

Not-so-gentlepersons lumbering around in H2s, start your guzzler engines and the rest of us will warm up the digital cameras.

Eh, he's good but he's no Reuben

I love food. I love to eat. I love to eat out. But I am also known as being pretty picky about my food. There are a lot of foods that I flat-out don't like, and a number of combinations of foods I won't go near. It would be fair to say that "texture issues" are a common theme, though that's something a number of people I know don't really seem to understand, as becomes clear whenever the subject comes up. Good example: Potato salad. I adore it, but put anything crunchy in it, like celery or red pepper, and I won't eat.

Because of this, eating out and trying new concoctions can be an interesting challenge at times, but one I always enjoy. And while I know I won't be going to Jersey anytime soon to try it, this sandwich strikes me as pretty intriguing. Potentially artery-clogging, sure, but so yummy-sounding! The sweetest part is that it flies in the face of the B.S. of the anti-carb craziness.

Sandwiches really are many-splendored thing that we sometimes take for granted. The variety of the standard ones alone is impressive, but when you throw in more original ones like the Fat Darrell the number is almost staggering. While (of course!) I won't eat it when it's prepared in the traditional way -- I don't eat rye bread and don't like Swiss cheese all that much -- the Reuben is one of my favorite sandwiches when you sub in sourdough bread and Monterey Jack cheese. A terrifically abominable corruption to food purists I'm sure, not to mention another disgraceful example of the Californiafication of classic cuisine, but I like what I like.

Hmm, think I sense a case of the munchies coming on. Anyone up for a Dagwood? Make mine the one without onions, please.

There are Happy Meals...

...and there are happy meals. This year, the venerable McDonald's Happy Meal turns 25. The meal that launched a million "MommyMommyMommyMommyMommyMommy!" litanies and a thousand movie tie-ins is now old enough to rent a car.

Likewise, the restaurant that has sparked a million thoughts of, "Oh, momma!" is about to make its mark in Sin City. It strikes me as a little like taking coals back to Newcastle, but if it provides an opportunity for a couple hundred women in the Las Vegas area to don super-shiny stockings and outfits that are only two sizes too small while slinging pretty decent chicken dishes, it's fine by me.

Hey, maybe Hooters Air can start flying into Vegas and the air Hootesses can earn some extra money on their layovers doing a couple of shifts at the hotel. Really, the tie-in opportunities are almost limitless; Hooters has just introduced a new line of chips...Vegas, chips...you with me? Poker might never be the same.

And how about a Hooty Meal? Men will be lining up around the block for a chance to unwrap the special prize in every box if they market it right. The packs of guys who do those prototypical weekends in Vegas can unwind in the restaurants and lounges of the hotel after their rounds of golf and marathon craps sessions and be assured that what Hooters in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

Stop the octogon, I want to get off

I am already so sick of the upcoming Presidential election and we still have 74 more days of name-calling, mudslinging, vilification, misdirection, negativity and manipulative rhetoric left to go.

I have found that I don't have it in me to be very political here much anymore or respond to anyone else's baiting. It is so highly unlikely that anyone is going to change my mind about the candidates -- I can imagine nothing that could be said by anyone, anywhere, anytime, anyhow that would make me vote for the administration currently taking up space in the White House -- and I doubt I'm going to change anyone else's mind by expressing my views on the topics at hand as they pop up over the course of the next couple months...and pop up they will.

My feelings about this are not based on truly hard-core political beliefs, partisan allegiance, or an unwillingness to engage in political debate. It's that I think the country is headed in the wrong direction at the moment and, more importantly in terms of why I'm not willing to assert my opinions terribly adamantly here anymore, I've come to believe that there is really no longer such a thing in this country as actual political debate. No one seems to really listen to people who express a political opinion contrary to theirs, let alone give it any credence or consideration.

What now passes for debate on the Internet and talk shows goes something like this: One person will put forth their belief on a political matter and someone on the other end of the spectrum will respond to tell them why they are wrong. The first person will provide an example or fact to support their position and the other person will trot out a conflicting example and vehemently defend it. Then, in a knee-jerk reaction, they abandon reason and debate and start tossing around names and epithets like grenades -- "right-wing wacko," "bleeding-heart liberal," "rabid righty," "traitor," "left-wing kook," "un-American," -- and the discussion simultaneously escalates into shrillness and degenerates into a spewing of vitriol. Something I read recently sums it up pretty well: "Why debate anything when your opponents are just wrong?"

What has caused this shift from debate to shouting? I think that among the culprits are the birth of the soundbite and the tendency of the current Bush administration (and its champions with media access) to go on the offensive and put those who do not agree with them squarely in the camp of "those who are against us." If you are against us, why should we acknowledge your arguments when they must be designed to harm us -- and therefore the country since we are its leaders -- and bring us down? It's effective because it's hard to refute that kind of illogical assertion without getting defensive and defensiveness is viewed, or at least represented, as proof of the assertion. Years of that kind of leadership, especially once patriotism is dragged into the fray the way it has been because of the war in Iraq, deteriorate our collective ability to have meaningful debate.

That brings me to the column that led me to touch on this subject today. The core of this post was written almost a month ago, but I found that I was too tired to form a cohesive chain of rationale to adequately present my thoughts. So I put it aside and figured that I would either leave it unfinished or find a good reason to pull it together eventually. The combination of resignation and outrage I felt when I read this was apparently the motivation I needed.

All I could think was, "Tell me how this doesn't really prove anything, how it's just a liberal concoction to make Bush look bad. He doesn't need our help to do that, he's a one-man Punch and Judy show!" The instantaneous and strong reaction I had reminded me of my unfinished post and I realized that I had fallen into the very tendency I had decried.

The importance of this election raises the stakes for us all, and I think it's easy to let those near-automatic responses slip in and push aside the more difficult task of engaging in meaningful reflection and debate on topics that in some ways we feel powerless to affect but for which we hold the ultimate power. We have a choice to make and if we chose to make it based on "He lied...But he lied more," and other less-than-significant matters, then perhaps we don't deserve a leadership based on more than that.

German highway fun with a side of Google

There are times when I despair of the traffic here in Silicon Valley. It's not as bad as L.A., but it can be pretty bad. But then I read a story like this one and I remember that I don't have it so bad. No one makes a full-time job out of reporting all the stupid and wacky accidents that happen here like they obviously do in Germany.

They do make a full-time job out of speculating on the forthcoming Google IPO these days, however. Like most everyone else in the area (or so I imagine), I've checked out jobs at Google over the years and sometimes wished I had found a position there because it seems like a pretty cool place to work overall and they have been pretty liberal with the ol' stock options. But it just never came to pass, and I've come to believe that stock options in tech companies aren't always the boon they at first appeared to be, so I found my peace with not being Googleworthy.

Now I'm kind of glad I don't work there because the constant litany of "Will they or won't they?" following the burst of the dot-com bubble (and, with it, IPO-mania), which morphed into the "When will they finally?" over the last year, and has become "How much will it go for?" in the last couple months, would make me dotty. And, hey, who really needs to become a paper millionaire anyway? Nope, not me.

Get your month on

I can't say that I've gotten into too many blog memes, but I found this one pretty intriguing. Thanks to cbeck for assisting in its proliferation and "letting" me steal the title for this post. (As I often find at work from our clients, sometimes it's easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission!) Portions in brackets below are my attempts to make the instructions a little clearer.

YOUR BIRTH MONTH
Pick your birth month [from this list] and cross (strike) out what doesn't apply to you. To strike out you use the S tag. So for the cross out you would surround the [portion to be crossed out by a tag with "s" in the first set of angle brackets and "/s" in the closing set of angle brackets.] Then post the whole list for the next person or link back to here.

NOVEMBER:Has a lot of ideas. Difficult to fathom. Thinks forward. Unique and brilliant. Extraordinary ideas. Sharp thinking. Fine and strong clairvoyance. Can become good doctors. Dynamic in personality. Secretive. Inquisitive. Knows how to dig secrets. Always thinking. Less talkative but amiable. Brave and generous. Patient. Stubborn and hard-hearted. If there is a will, there is a way. Determined. Never give up. Hardly becomes angry unless provoked. Loves to be alone. Thinks differently from others. Sharp-minded. Motivates oneself. Does not appreciates praises. High-spirited. Well-built and tough. Deep love and emotions. Romantic. Uncertain in relationships. Homely. Hardworking. High abilities. Trustworthy. Honest and keeps secrets. Not able to control emotions. Unpredictable.

I suppose there's a great deal of hubris in keeping certain of the qualities and a great deal of self-effacement in deleting certain of others, and of course not all of them apply all of the time. But I figured that if I've been called any of them by people who know me well (and I have) or I have enough self-awareness to know that I possess some of them, for better or worse, (and I think I do) I might as well 'fess up to it.

"Happy cooking and bon appetit."

Good-bye, Julia Child, you will be missed. I had planned to write a short little tribute here, but flea at One Good Thing already did and better than I could have. My memories of Julia are a little fuzzier than flea's, but so warm, affectionate and omnipresent -- by which I mean that she was such an icon and a presence and one of those people whose existence in this world you take for granted to the point that you can't imagine them not being here -- that I don't mind that they're not quite as sharp nor nearly as endearing.

So go read her post, and the NY Times article she links to that is the best I've read so far today in memory of Julia, then go have a good meal with a fine glass of wine and enjoy the hell out of them.

Let the Poll begin!

The results from the last poll were clear - more of you have a green thumb than not. Go forth and help your less fortunate friends and neighbors!

It's well past time for a new poll, but nothing came to mind until I realized that I was curious about what events other people looked forward to watching when the Summer Olympic games roll around. So please take a minute and go check out the current poll. Once again, the options are listed alphabetically, so as not to risk skewing the very scientific results. I am aware that there are many events not represented, but capturing them all would have made for a very long list. When in doubt, select "The oddballs" or pick your second-favorite.

Knowing what fantastic powers of persuasion I possess and how eager my devoted audience is to show their admiration -- in a measure only slightly less than my own self-delusion -- I will reserve my vote until a few others have come in.

Oh, and if you're curious about the full slate of events, and when they're being held, check out this page from the official Games site. (Let me know if it took you as long as it took me to figure out exactly what the hell the double row of numbers at the top of the first section represents.) Happy viewing!

A whole new way to go postal

I got my head handed to me yesterday (figuratively, of course) for taking the time to write yesterday's entry -- long story, boring story, annoying story -- so today's post is going to be very short and saccharine-sweet. You know, more calories with less effort.

Today, I think I discovered the height of megalomania in America. Now, you can put the image of your precious child, dog, cat, iguana, house, spouse, domestic partner or even your own ugly mug on the envelope of your annoying "Here's how great my family was this year" letters at the holidays. No more trying to avoid the "undesirable" stamps at the post office -- pay over twice the going postage rate and have your very own personalized stamps made!

I think there should be an affidavit you must sign stating that you will never again complain about the cost of postage in this country if you elect to get these stamps for yourself.

Can I get a hall pass from the Oracle?

In case you've been hiding under a rock for the last few weeks, the Summer Olympics are almost here. Greece got its collective ass in gear and seems to have gotten everything ready in the nick of time, even getting a bridge ready ahead of schedule. (By what, a day?) Let the events, heroics, scandals, touching human-interest stories, poor coverage, and medal count begin!

Of course, along with all the medals up for grabs, security is on everyone's mind and these Games will be unprecendented in terms of the breadth and cost of security measures, with some countries providing their own security for their athletes...which may have been a condition for many of the countries even agreeing to show up. This Slate article mentions the fact that in the ancient games, there was an empire-wide truce among warring Greek parties so that the athletes and the audience could travel to and from the games in safety. I learned a few other interesting tidbits about the ancient games while in Sacramento for the U.S. Olympic Track and Field Trials: Married women were absolutely forbidden to enter the grounds where the games were held, upon penalty of death. On the other hand, virgins (i.e., the unmarried maidens, who were of course one in the same) were allowed and encouraged to attend because they needed to be exposed to the cream of the crop of their prospective mates, in all their naked glory. (Married women, apparently, weren't supposed to check out the goods once they were off the market.) There was even a parallel set of competitions that the maidens could enter held on the same grounds, in which the chicks from Sparta regularly kicked the other maidens' asses.

I've already expressed my worries about what might happen during these Summer Games, so I'll just mention this article that only strenghtens my fears. I listened to a radio show today featuring Juval Aviv, a counterterrorism expert consultant for Athens security quoted in this article, who really brought it home to me when he said, flat out, that this is the one Olympics he'll be watching on TV at home. (If you're at all interested, they're supposed to have the interview available on the station's Web site in the next day or so.) As mentioned in the article, "Among his concerns: no background checks on vendors and crews who built stadiums, roads and tunnels. His fear: During construction, terrorists installed explosives under roadbeds and stadium foundations...'All they have to do now is push a button.'" Um...yikes.

But, cynicism aside for a moment, I am looking forward to watching the Games. Just not so much the opening ceremony, or at least about three-quarters of it. They turn it into such a production, so bloated and heavy with meaning and symbolism, always trying to out-do the last few such ceremonies. The parade of athletes is usually pretty interesting...or at least it used to be before every other athlete started toting along a cell phone or video camera, or both. (Okay, the cynicism snuck back in, so sue me.)

Coming up for air

Q: What does it mean when there are over five hours between the time you write a title for a post and when you start to write the actual post?

A1: That work is too darned busy for a Friday;

A2: That I shouldn't even be attempted to post from work!

And here I thought it was going to be a relatively "easy" day at the old workplace. Always a dangerous feeling to have because it almost never works out that way!

Being that it was "one of those days," I'm going to go with something I found yesterday and thought I'd like to share. I suppose this article could be viewed as a metaphor on how life can be painful and difficult, but one should never give up hope because little miracles do happen, but let's just call it a cute cat story and call it a day because I'm a little too weary to get philosophical and fully explore that idea right now.

Oh, that and the very unusual event of some of my co-workers actually going out for drinks after work is taking place and I need to get the heck out of here. Cheers!

Giving the ol' Site Meter a rest

And, apparently, there's no better way to do that than by not being able to blog for quite a few days! There are about another two weeks of this madness left, but things are going to be so much nicer in my "real life" that it's really quite worth it.

In the meantime, two items I'd like to address quickly while I wind down my work day. (Shhh --don't tell!)

1. Could someone PLEASE explain to me why people keep doing searches for "AARP (television) commercial(s) ping" on a near-daily basis?? This has been the most puzzling referral trend I have detected.

Because, back who-knows-when, I had a post that talked about AARP having a stranglehold on the issue of states imposing tougher drivers license requirements (that could potentially limit the ability of older drivers to retain their privilege to drive, in the hopes that a person's diminished capacity to drive would not result in another innocent person's death) and, on the same page, mentioned some weird commercials being run by Quiznos, plus the title of the blog, oodles of people have landed here.

I cannot, for the life of me, figure out what it is that they're looking for. I've clicked on some of the other links that come up in that search, but there is nothing that I can find that links the word "ping" to anything having to do with "AARP commercials."

If you have found this post by means of doing that search -- or one like it -- you would really make my day if you would take a second and drop a line in the comments about what it is you're hoping to find.

2. While cat blogging is on hiatus (don't forget, that's Norman's fault; who, I might add, seems to really miss it because he has mentioned cat blogging at least twice on his site in the last week...), here's a little something to tide you over. (Thank you to Kimberly for the link)

Nuttier than a vegan fruitcake

The video that can be found in the first post on this page is a prime, golden, and in-living-color example of why the rest of the country thinks that California is filled with complete nutcases.   (My favorite part is how they keep rolling right over the ball!)

That being said -- which, in case you haven't noticed, has become the single most overused phrase in reality television -- however, I came away from viewing it with an intense desire to give one of those babies a whirl. 

Contrary to what you might think, Silicon Valley is not actually teeming with people scooting about on Segways.  Seeing one tooling along in the bike lane is still unusual enough to almost cause car accidents.  That might not be the case if every other BMW, Mercedes, Hummer (those are a lot more common here than Segways -- I see one every day now) and Lexus driver on the road wasn't too cheap or too lazy to use the hands-free earpiece for their teensy-tiny little phones that they insist on having pressed up against their heads every moment they're in the car...and at the gas pumps...and in the grocery store...and in line for you-name-it...but I digress.

One thing we do have here, apparently, is a plethora of smart dogs.  (A link that I hope that will give the not-cat-fans some satsifaction and get them off my case for a short while!  Registration may be required, or a visit to BugMeNot.)

Norman's Cat Corner - The Final Edition

Squeaky 


Alas, this will be the last edition of this feature here at OPO. The current sponsor has made it known that he does not believe it sufficiently satisfies the target audience (i.e., him) and has withdrawn his already tenuous support.

So while we search for a new sponsor (any interested applicants may e-mail me via the link to the right or contact me in the comments -- the George Forman Kitty Fryer division, its employee(s), assigns or agents are not welcome, however), please say hi again to Squeaky, in this early picture of her as a kitten.

Squeaks is an indoor/outdoor cat and there's almost nothing she likes more than getting up on a handy perch outside and looking down on the world -- as cats are wont to do -- while waiting for a bird to come along that she can stalk.  The only thing she surely enjoys even better is sticking her head through the metal slats of her mom's mini-blinds and irreparably bending them to suit her indoor bird-watching needs.

If that face doesn't make you want to run right out and get yourself a cat, I think there might be something wrong with you.  (Or, giving one the benefit of the doubt, you're allergic.)

On an entirely different note, there is a very good reason why both this particular post is so late and why posting in general has been pretty spotty lately.  This was all explained in the post from Friday that got vamoosed by Blogger, and I really was too tired to even try to get to it again before now.

I am going to be moving next month and I'm very involved in preparing the house that will be our new home.  It's a long and somewhat complicated story but I'm really happy about it.  There has been so much to do and it has taken so much time and energy, but it's also a lot of fun.   In the midst of painting my third ceiling, I found myself wishing that was the kind of thing I did for a living instead of sitting in a cube in front of a computer all day.  However, the end of the day usually finds me and everyone else in the house completely used up like a crumpled paper towel.  When I woke up on Saturday, everything ached except maybe my teeth...and there were still two days of painting to go! 

We got it all done before the guys arrived to start on the flooring, so we're that much closer to having it ready, and that's a pretty satisfying feeling. But it hasn't left a lot of time for much else, including blogging and answering e-mail.  Unfortunately, even though the house is close to done, my Internet access outside of work is going to be limited until the middle of next month.  DSL is truly a wonderful thing, but getting it installed and up & running isn't; it's going to take two weeks to transfer it to our new address, which will make blogging somewhat tough during that time.  And because as I was reminded again today, I can't post pictures from work (I think our firewall prevents me from using Hello properly), there won't be much of that to look forward to! 

I will try to post as much as on my usual schedule as possible, but things are still going to be spotty, and I hope that some of you will still stop by from time to time. :-)

Damn. It. All.

Okay, that's it.  I'm tired again tonight and I just lost yet another entire post that was almost done.  Not a nice way to end an already long day.  So I cry "Uncle!" and I'm packing it in for now. 

If there's no post tomorrow -- or, rather, later today at this point -- you can assume that I'm either dead tired or yet another post went awry and I'm just not up to giving it another go. 

Hopefully, next week things will settle down and be a little bit back to normal!

Too Tired

Last night I was three-quarters of the way through a post about how I was too damned tired of pseudo-political debate to blog about political things for the time being, when Blogger threw some sort of hissy fit and lost a chunk of what I'd written while I was trying to save it.  It kept acting up and lost that part again, so I gave up.

Tonight I am too damned tired to try to recreate what was lost and pick up the thread of the salient point I was trying to make before getting to the link the whole thing was really about.  So here is the link -- it's a quiz (a real quiz, not a Quizilla construct with questionable spelling) to determine whether you're Red or Blue.  As the intro points out, "Red and blue are states of mind, not actual states.  Red and blue aren't absolute predictors of political leanings, either...Instead, it's an amorphous condition."

I was somewhat surprised by my results, which put me squarely in the middle, until I really thought about it and realized that it was actually fairly accurate.  If you're interested in taking it, I'd love to have you come back and share your findings, especially if you find your results surprising, too.

Norman's Cat Corner - The "Better Late than Never" edition

Peri 
 

Ah, what could be better than returning from a little vacation to resume posting with a picture of my favorite cat?  (I think Norman's answer would be, "Just about anything.")  
 
This is our cat, Peri, in a recent photo taken about two years after the inaugural Cat Corner shot featuring her as a kitten.  She is our family's first cat (we'd only ever had dogs before) so watching her grow up has been a real trip.  Here, she is seen in my mom's new place getting used to her unfamiliar surroundings. 
 
She has taken on a few new personality traits since the move -- such as deciding that my mom shouldn't sleep past 6:00am or so on any given morning.  She will meow and meow until Mom either gets up or throws her out of the room.  If Mom resists and gets her to pipe down, Peri will come back and try again in about a half hour.  But when Mom finally succumbs and leaves the room, Peri will immediately assume her new usual spot under the bed and not come out or make another peep for hours.  When I show up and she's still under there, I'll lay down, lift up the dust ruffle and say, "Hello!"  I get one meow in response and then she ignores me until she is sure that I haven't brought along any strangers and decides it's safe to come out.   
 
We decided a few months after she came to us that maybe we should have named her "Scaredy" instead of Peri (which, in case you were wondering, is short for Peridot after the color of her eyes) because she is frightened by everything apart from the bugs she stalks with a relentless intensity matched only by jungle cats hunting their prey.  If only she understood the concept of "it's dead," as she keeps looking for them long after they've gone to the big bug zapper in the sky.

Greetings from Sacramento!

I have been MIA for the last two days because I am attending the US Track and Field Olympic Trials in Sacramento, CA, and I didn't take the laptop.  It is (for me) brutally hot here, and I have found refuge in the library on the campus of California State University - Sacramento.  They have kindly let visitors use their computers for Internet access, and I'm taking them up on it.  The fact that it's air-conditioned splendor in here may have something to do with my really taking them up on it!
 
So far, the most memorable moment was yesterday, when Marion Jones got the lead out and made a spectacular long jump to take first place and secure a trip to Athens (assuming no evidence of illegal doping on her part is found before then) after her disappointing performance last week in the 100m event.  She'll be back over the next few days trying to make it on the 200m team.  The crowd here was very supportive of her last night, and she showed her appreciation of the fans by coming over to the stands and letting people take photos and doing some autographs, before breezing past the press like she was practicing for the 200m.
 
I should have a few pictures to post when I return, if I haven't died of heatstroke before that time.  Have a great weekend and tune in for a delayed (but not deterred!) episode of kitty blogging on Monday. 

The Ken Jennings train keeps rolling on

Quite a number of people have found OPO by searching for info on Ken Jennings, the Jeopardy phenom, because I happened to use the word "winningest" in my original post about his amazing winning streak.

Jennings, who is still going strong, has prompted a 28% increase in viewership of the show during his six-week run. He is starting to pop up all over the place -- now that people are hopping on the bandwagon -- like Good Morning America, where he apparently revealed the unsurprising "secret" to his success, Today, Live with Regis & Kelly (scheduled for tomorrow, 7/14), The Early Show and, notably, Late Show with David Letterman, where he presented the Top Ten List.

Of course, every good bandwagon has its backlash, and Ken's has already begun (NY Times, reg. req.), with people referring to him as "annoying" and "cocky," and calling for him to voluntarily end his reign. It's anticipated that this call will become more strident now that he has reached the million dollar mark. That milestone was passed tonight, in a show where there was some fun repartee between Ken and Alex (when you watch them together night after night like this, you get to be on a first-name basis), as mentioned in this article.

I happen to think that Ken is a very nice and likeable nerd, I enjoy watching him wreak havoc on contestant after contestant and category after category, and I think that he should stay on as long as he continues to enjoy it and keeps winning. For those who say otherwise, I have only one response: Alex, I'll take "Sour Grapes" for a thousand.

Athens takes on Double Secret Probation

I truly believe that people are kidding themselves if they really think that there will be no major problems at the Summer Olympics in Athens. The organizers and the government can make all the pledges they like that it will go smoothly and that everything is well in hand. Whenever I read their assurances that it's going to be just fine, however, all I can think of is the guy at the end of Animal House (a very young Kevin Bacon) trying to contain the panicked crowd with a shrill, "Remain calm. All is well!"

But when we have story after story about what has gone wrong or what went right by the slimmest of margins, and then something like this happens a month before such an enormous event, it's time to take off the rose-tinted glasses, folks.

When the XXVIII Olympiad was awarded to Greece in 1997, it was clear that it would take a massive amount of work to bring the modern Games to an ancient city. When it was discovered almost four years later that progress was almost non-existent, the IOC kicked up a fuss. But they backed off from seriously considering taking the games away from Athens, and moving them to a city that was more Games-ready, after more assurances from the Greek government and (I feel) fear of the negative press such a move would incur. The organizing committee got things moving, telling us that it was just "the Greek way" for things to get done at the last minute and that it would all work out fine. All well and good for internal ventures, but when you're inviting the world onto your island, a little more commitment is required.

Added to all of that is the heightened terrorist element the Games must now address, and I fear that Athens could wind up with more than egg on its face when all is said and done. With the current world climate, an attack has the sad potential to make the horrible events of the Munich Olympics pale in comparison.

For years I have felt like Cassandra with prophesies of gloom and doom for these Games. And I hope I'm wrong, I really do. But so far I haven't seen much to give me a great deal of hope that all is, in fact, well in Athens.

Norman's Cat Corner

Savannah & Sophie 


Today we meet Savannah and Sophie, two beauties who also live here in the Bay Area. Savannah, on the left, is the younger and perkier of the two and keeps her parents on their toes. Sophie is more the lady of the world who watches Savannah's antics with a languid eye. But those glowing eyes tell you, "Don't mess with us, because we will out-cute you any day of the week!"

It's a sunshine-y day

What are you doing in here looking at your computer? It's a summer weekend -- get out there are do something summery! According to this map (right now), unless you live at the very northernmost tip of Alaska, it's perfect weather out there. Go grab yourself a Frisbee® and enjoy a beautiful day. Then come back on Sunday to see which kitty cat I've selected to torture Norman.

Lesson learned

Never proclaim in a public forum that you're finally feeling relaxed. Because (my) nature abhors a vacuum, that's like asking for trouble. All day I've had a backache that almost nothing could touch, so at this point I'm feeling a little cranky and tired and this is going to be short.

Go over and vote in the new poll -- I'm curious to see how others fare with our fair foliage friends. Then read this article from Slate that cracked me up today. I really admire this lady's guts in trying out all these different things, and I think this is the gutsiest one thus far.

After reading the very end of the article, I had something terribly insightful to say about complacency in relationships and the power of remembering that you're involved with a man or a woman, not just a husband or wife, and doing something to acknowledge that fact every once in a while, even if it puts you outside your comfort zone. But now, many hours later, all I can think is, "Aw, what the hell do I know, anyway?" Whenever this kind of topic comes up in discussion with women or men, who are generally complaining about the lack of something in either their relationship or their mate, I will express that idea in some form or another. Invariably, the sentiment that comes back to me -- whether directly or indirectly -- is, "You don't understand what it's like when you're married." (It's only slightly less emphatic from someone in a not-married, long-term relationship.)

So, in an effort to actually put into action a lesson I should have learned by now, I will squelch the impulse and hope that you're very comfortable in your sweats and T, wherever you are.

Blossom on my mind

Hibiscus 


For some reason I don't have much to say today. Work has been pretty low-key lately, which is highly unusual, so I think I'm a little off-kilter...oh, wait, that's just me feeling relaxed. It has been so long I didn't recognize it.

In my little arbor of contentment, my thoughts turn to warm, fuzzy images of kittens, rainbows and flowers. Kittens -- got that covered. Rainbows are never truly captured on film. That leaves flowers. Hence the above photo of the first hibiscus I've ever successfully kept alive for longer than a month. I'm quite proud. Not of the little ants scurrying around (if you look closely), but I didn't notice them until the picture was taken and, hey, it's the great outdoors.

They're beautiful but delicate flowers with a very short bloom life. I don't know much about them since I've had such a hard time growing them in the past, but I'm feeling encourged to take on another one soon. I thought maybe this variety might be just the thing for an aspiring blogger.

Summertime, and the viewin' is easy.

Ah, summertime TV in the reality show era. We used to have that huge drought between the time when all the shows had their season finales in May and their new season premieres in September, and summer TV meant repeats and sports. Maybe someone else can pinpoint in time better than I when that all changed, but my feeling is that we have Fox to thank for it. I seem to recall that they started initiating changes when they became a real player in network TV, like starting new shows in summer that weren't simply shows not good enough for the fall line-up and starting and ending seasons outside the normal times. It just became more and more common and now we're at the point where there is really a separate summer season, and it just so happens that the bulk of it is reality shows.

For me, tonight marked the start of when I actually look forward to TV again and get to indulge in those dual guilty pleasures of Big Brother and The Amazing Race, now in their fifth editions. To help enjoy Big Brother 5 (or "BB5") just that much more, we have big brother 5: the hampster cage from Ernie of Little.Yellow.Different. I do believe he actually means "hamster" but who am I to quibble with a biggie in the bloggy world?

BB5 pales in comparison to Amazing Race (or, as a friend and I call it, "Amazing Grace," due to a hearing lapse on my part way back when) in terms of enjoyment, but BB5 has the advantage of being on multiple times each week, which is nice when there's absolutely nothing else on. This year, BB5 seems determined to throw in as many twists as they possibly can, but I have to admit that the first one was pretty neat. They somehow managed to get a guy and a girl in as housemates who are half-siblings, but neither was aware of the other's existence before this. So far, one of them has managed to figure it out, but hasn't told the other yet. I still find Julie Chen infinitely annoying, but I suppose they could have gotten someone worse.

Amazing Race is just the best. If you haven't watched it and think all reality shows are dumb, just give it a try. Heck, the thing won an Emmy last year and TV Guide thinks it's great, so it can't be without any redeeming qualities! I would have loved, loved, loved to be a contestant on "Grace" this time around, but all efforts at convincing my brother to try out for it with me failed. He and I would be a killer team and there's no one I would rather race around the world with, but he wasn't buying it. That whole "having to get three months off from work" thing may have been a contributing factor.

But, okay, let's cut to brass tacks here, shall we? The show that's really making me do my very best hyena impression and just dying for the next episode is Joe Schmo 2. I watched and enjoyed the first season, but I truly believed it was a one-off; how could they possibly make it work a second time? Did they learn nothing from the disaster that was "Joe Millionaire 2" last year?? But they've done it, they've created yet another fake show that just rocks. The way in which they send up almost every aspect of every other reality show is such a hoot, and the seriousness with which these blatant sexual innuendos are laid out there by "The Pompous Host" just slays me. They've even found the perfect way to deal with fake show disaster -- someone figuring out the jig. And did I mention that they have a clumsy falcon? It's ingenious and entertaining and too damned funny to miss. Put a little Schmo in your summer -- you can thank me later.

Mint, NIB, One-of-a-Kind Post w/Free Shipping!

I am garage-saled out. But it's over and it was actually pretty worthwhile. Long, with periods of extreme boredom, but worthwhile. Although the suggestion was made that I list some of the items here that we had for sale, I decided that I couldn't do that for security reasons -- it could put my terribly lucrative eBay operation in jeopardy. It turns out that my garage contains about half the contents of all of eBay and listing any of them here could cause a cataclysmic meltdown of both Google and eBay, resulting in thousands of my fellow Silicon Valleyites losing their jobs, which would harm the local economy and put even more people out of work, which would have fewer people on the road each day...which would make my commute easier...hey!

Nevermind, I think being out in the heat so much over the last few days has fried my faculties. So I'll leave you with the following:

Gardens have roses,
Ponds have ducks,
Tomorrow's back to work
And that really sucks.

Check, please.

Norman's Cat Corner

Squeaky 


Say hi to Squeaky...or Ruby...or Squeaks...or Squeaky-Ruby. It kinda depends on who you ask. Anyway, she's the most photogenic cat I know and she lives here in the SF Bay Area. I have the pleasure of tending to her a bit every once in a while and she's a real sweetheart. (So sweet that even Norman might not be tempted to break out his George Foreman Kitty Fryer if he got to meet her.) Her dad is an avid photographer, so she is a seasoned model who has perfected the art of looking faboo in glamour shots like this one.

Love/Hate Relationship

Why I love garage sales: 1. You get rid of stuff. 2. People give you money.

Why I hate garage sales: 1. Haggling over prices. 2. You have to sit around for hours and hours so people can give you less money than you'd like.

Right now I am about three hours in on the first of three days of my family's garage sale. So far, so good, but in another three hours I will likely be so sick of the whole thing that the money won't seem worth it. Add two more days to that and I might actually be glad to go back to work on Tuesday!

We really need to do it because we have too much stuff and we need to divest ourselves of some of it, now. It hasn't been too bad so far -- there haven't been too many annoying people -- and being able to bring the laptop out to the driveway and have it connect to our wireless network will help pass the time. We have been fairly successful at finding new homes for some of our little treasures, but it's starting to get hot, which is my least favorite thing about being outside at this time of day. Thankfully, we've got a nice little set-up with a table and umbrella, comfortable chairs, a cooler filled with ice-cold beverages, snacks and all day with nothing to do but take the nice peoples' money.

***Three hours later, after the battery died and we're winding down to the end of Day One***

We've been dodging the sun all afternoon and have retreated into the garage, with all the stuff baking on the driveway. The proportion of really annoying people to really nice people has been better than usual. Although the guy that's here now has apparently not been in a store for the last decade because he has asked about twenty times, "Now, what is this? Wow, really? What is this thing again?" So far, no indication that he has any intention whatsoever of actually buying anything, however. Even my mother, who likes nothing more than chatting with people is rolling her eyes at me and wishing he'd stop asking question after question!

Well, it's almost time to start dragging things back in before we haul 'em back out bright and early tomorrow. *sigh*

Here a Ringy-Dingy, There a Ringy-Dingy

This is the single most confounding game I have played in a long time. Started off pretty easy, but the second "place" is an absolute doozy. I'm still not sure how I made it work, nor why it didn't fully work. But I eventually got to the end and now I can stop thinking and thinking and thinking about it!

It's quite unique and I suggest you buzz on by when you have some time to kill this long weekend.