Damn I'm manly

But that's me all over, 100% pure Man. Wrap me in bread cuz I'm a god damned Manwich. Put me in the ocean and I'm the Isle of Man. My atomic weight must be 54.9 cuz I'm motherfuckin' MANganese.

Found a cool online comic: When I am King

Via cheesedip.com, via David.

Back to the norm, Mark's Nickname Du Jour:

Big Daddy.

A departure from the norm, I have been granted a Nickname Du Jour:

Eagle-Eyed Kristin (for finding all the problems in the software)
aka, Eagle-Beaked Kristin (for people who make changes to the database without telling me, thereby causing near heart-attacks when I refresh the preview screen and everything has moved).

And the Quote of the Day, prompted by my statement that the smell of coffee brewing reminds me of dirty socks:

If I could have dirty socks smell like coffee, I would be a very, very happy man.
-- Mark

Yippeee! It's Friday!

I have to work all day (argh), then I get to go to the old apartment and pack (what fun!) and then Mark is taking a bunch of us to see A.I. much, much later tonight.

And by the end of tomorrow, I will be officially living in my new apartment, complete with all my shit stuff, and the rent paid, and papers signed, and keys handed over....

... and an easier commute, and a bigger place, and an nicer area, and less rent, and a cool roommate ...

I'm glad it's Friday.

Wow. A whole webpage on one of my favorite activities, kissing.

Via Riley Dog (6/28/01).

For the easily amused:

The Ultimate Build Your Own Cow Page!!!

I am much amused.

I ventured out of the office today with three of my male co-workers to pick up some racks from the data center across the street to bring them back here. One rack in particular has almost a terrabyte of hard disk space. I'm sure the other three make up the difference.

I had to move out of the way quickly so that the drool wouldn't splash onto my sandaled feet.

I have several friends from library school who don't work in traditional libraries. We consider ourselves librarians, and when we gather in groups, we refer to ourselves as librarians, but we have a hard time admitting explaining that's what we are to people who have a hard time giving up the stereotype of the librarian as a little old lady, complete with bun and glasses, shushing people, and would rather refer to us as information professionals, researchers, knowledge workers, or some other equally palatable term.

Let's hear it for Metagrrrl, who I met in Library School, as she says:

Ok, enough of that "I don't have a library, so I don't really call myself a librarian" shit; I have a library; it's called the web and I answer reference questions on it *constantly*.

Via Tami Jo:

Before and After the Microsoft ruling

Once again, racks were discussed in our office. This time, they want to borrow my truck to put some racks in it to haul back from the data center.

And once again, I refrained from making the obvious joke.

Mark turns 24 today.

Why don't you send him a birthday card??

I guess that lake behind the pretty Indian lady isn't as safe as they'd like you to believe, is it??

(Sidenote: let me take this opportunity to say that a site dedicated to butter and how to prepare it is just ... just ... delicious. Yum. My arteries are hardening at the thought.)

Via Mark.

Bjoern brought one of these into the office today.

Weird.

Bjoern and I came up with some reasons why it's not a good idea to have a piece of chocolate every afternoon.

1) Familiarity breeds contempt.
What was once a treat, now becomes commonplace

2) Unplanned/Unwanted increase in body surface area.
Over the lips and through the gums, look out hips (thighs, buttocks, belly, etc.), here it comes!

But since we could only come up with 2, we've decided to go get some anyway.

What we've listened to already (in order):
The Commitments
New Miserable Experience
The Honeydrippers, Vol. 1
Poem
Reservoir Dogs
Living Under June

What we've yet to listen to (in no particular order):
Say Anything
Violator
101

Sherman Alexie, on his education:

They were running after me -- the Jesuits -- trying to save me; they lifted up their cassocks and they were wearing Nikes. I didn't realize God had a shoe deal.

And did you know?

Kemosabe in Apache means "idiot," as Tonto in Spanish means "idiot." They were calling each other "idiot" all those years; and they both were, so it worked out.

I love my dog. Ok, she's really my mom's dog, but we have a good relationship anyway. I took a few pictures of her last time I was Home. This is my new favorite



You can see a few more here.

I hate to admit it, but I guess I'm typical when it comes to female language patterns. This was sent to me today, and except for the "5 minutes" bit, I suppose I identify and use all of these.

Here's to being typical.

* * * * *

FEMININE LANGUAGE (Author unknown)
A little long, BUT a must-read for all men.
Keywords and their meanings:

FINE:
This is the word we use at the end of any argument that we feel we are right about but need to shut you up. NEVER use fine to describe how woman looks. This will cause you to have one of those arguments.

FIVE MINUTES:
This is half an hour. It is equivalent to the five minutes that your football game is going to last before you take out the trash, so it's an even trade.

NOTHING:
This means something and you should be on your toes. "Nothing" is usually used to describe the feeling a woman has of wanting to turn you inside out, upside down, and backwards. "Nothing" usually signifies an argument that will last "Five Minutes" and end with a huffy "Fine."

GO AHEAD (with raised eyebrows):
This is a dare, one that will result in my getting upset over "Nothing" and will end with the word "Fine."

GO AHEAD (normal eyebrows):
This means "I give up" or "do what you want because I don't care." You will get a raised eyebrow "Go ahead" in just a few minutes, followed by "Nothing" and "Fine" and she will talk to you in about "Five Minutes" when she cools off.

(LOUD SIGH):
This is not actually a word, but is still often a verbal statement very misunderstood by men. A "Loud Sigh" means she thinks you are an idiot at that moment and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you over "Nothing."

(SOFT SIGH):
Again, not a word, but a verbal statement. "Soft Sighs" are one of the few things that some men actually understand. She is content. Your best bet is to not move or breathe, and she will stay content.

OH!:
This exclaimation, followed by any statement, is trouble. Example: "Oh, let me get that." Or, "Oh, I talked to him about what you were doing last night." If she says "Oh" before a statement, RUN, do not walk, to the nearest exit. She will tell you that she is "Fine" when she is done tossing your clothes out the window, but do not expect her to talk to you for at least 2 days. "Oh" as the lead to a sentence usually signifies that you are caught in a lie. Do not try to lie more to get out of it, or you will get raised eyebrows and "Go ahead" followed by acts so unspeakable that we can't bring ourselves to write about them.

THAT'S OK:
This is one of the most dangerous statements that a woman can say to a man. "That's OK" means that she wants to think long and hard before paying you retributions for what ever it is that you have done. "That's OK" is often used with the word "Fine" and used in conjunction with a raised eyebrow "Go ahead." At some point in the near future when she has plotted and planned, you are going to be in some mighty big trouble.

PLEASE DO:
This is not a statement; it is an offer. A woman is giving you the chance to come up with whatever excuse or reason you have for doing whatever it is that you have done. You have a fair chance to tell the truth, so be careful and you shouldn't get a "That's OK."

THANKS:
A woman is thanking you. Do not faint; just say, "You're welcome."

THANKS A LOT:
This is much different from "Thanks." A woman will say, "Thanks A LOT," when she is really ticked off at you. It signifies that you have hurt her in some callous way, and will be followed by the "Loud Sigh." Be careful not to ask what is wrong after the "Loud Sigh," as she will only say "Nothing."

I hope this clears up any misunderstandings...

Holy cow! I just remembered that Booboolina.com turned one year old on Saturday. I feel like a rotten parent.

Makes me wonder what else I've forgotten in the midst of moving and celebrating birthdays.

I know a few people who shave their heads intentionally, and a few who wish they had the guts to do so (myself included), but I also know someone who has lost her hair quite unintentionally because of breast cancer, and has still managed to stay positive about it.

As she says:

... I have found that being 'hairless' has many advantages!
1. I get to wear hats all the time, it is so cool.
2. The amount of time saved getting showered and dressed is dramatic.
3. A definite savings on shampoo, conditioner, not to mention electricity for blow-drying & curling.
4. Never any 'bad-hair days'!
5. It's much cooler, and when I do get too hot, I just stick my head under a faucet to cool off.
All in all, I could really get used to the ease and comfort!

And she's leaving this week on a cruise to Alaska to celebrate her wedding anniversary. She is truly a wonder.

JessaJune and Redcap were/are being funny.

Ah, the trials and tribulations of being an English major.

Has anyone else been contacted by a Mr. Jack Strap regarding "hot wives, teens, busty chicks and celelbreties...", or am I the only lucky one??

I know it's always been a dream of mine to meet a celelbrety.

I know quite a few Canadians, and yes, they rule.

Via my favorite Canadian.

Bwahahahaha!

What do you do with a psycho roommate?

I just sent this to my new roommate and promised that I wouldn't eat her if she went psycho.

I'm sure that'll put her at ease.

It's raining (!) here in Santa Clara, CA and we're all, Americans and Germans alike, reminiscing about the smell of wet asphalt and gradeschool playgrounds.

I just cited "Land of the Lost" in a discussion of evolution vs. creationism.

I am such a nerd.

Look at what WalMart's peddling now:

Secrets of Methamphetamine Manufacture: Including Recipes for MDA, Ecstasy, and Other Psychedelic Amphetamines

Gift wrapping is available.

Notice the stock status.

From Unxmaal.

Do you ever get the sneaking suspicion that you've chosen the wrong career?

How to Make Love to a Single Girl.

Not for the militant feminist types, or those offended by the sight of nekkid women.

Weekend recap:

I came home from work on Friday, really needing to go to the bathroom, only to find that someone had been there in my absence. I don't know what they were doing, but I suspect that it had something to do with my toilet (which I've never complained about and have never had a problem with), as it was the only thing they touched, apparently. My clues were the plant that had obviously been dropped and then simply picked up and put back in the pot, the disarray of the stuff I keep on the tank lid, and the dirt that was *everywhere*. Whoever dropped the plant then handled my bottles and jars, leaving smudges all over everything and didn't bother to clean up the floor. I was pissed. I still am.

Yes, I called the apartment manager and yes, I took pictures.

Saturday, I went olallieberry berry picking with a lot of friends, including J, as part of a birthday celebration for my new roomie, M. It was great fun and I came back with 4 1/2 pounds of berries, the use of which has yet to be determined.

Yesterday, I went to my first Gay Pride parade in San Francisco. It was great fun, from the Dykes on Bikes to Mikes on Bikes. I'm told there was more, but we were exhausted after standing for over 3 hours watching all the fun and left after the PFLAG float.

And I moved. I moved a lot of stuff. With the help of Jish and M, I got all my essential stuff moved in, and a lot of non-essential stuff. I'm now living there and going back to the old place every day to move at least one truckload.

I have a lot of stuff.

It's strange moving into a place that your roommate has been living in for a couple of years already. At the end of the evening, I start feeling like I have to pick myself up soon and drive back to my apartment, the visit is over. Imagine my relief when I realize I can just go in the next room and sleep in my own bed.

And that brings us to today, when my neck is soar, my feet hurt, I have bruises all over my arms and thighs (from the moving!), and I am TIRED.

Next month we're getting paid in racks, apparently.

I refrained from making the obvious joke.

I don't believe in short-term dieting as a valid form of weight-loss. This is not to say that I have ever actually changed my diet to achieve long-term goals either. It just means that I continue to gain weight.

BobTheCorgi (6/21/01) gives a nice succinct overview of the drawbacks of a lifetime of dieting.

I'm on the phone with PacBell (20 minutes and counting ... their hold music sucks) and I almost fell off my chair laughing.

Not that I have any intention of ever becoming a bride (we won't mention the fact that no one's ever had any intention of making me a bride), but someone pointed Indiebride out to me as an example of a nicely designed site. That is the *only* reason I've bookmarked it here.

The ONLY reason.

Are you qualified to apply to be the Sexiest Geek Alive?

BTW, the Sexiest Geek Alive contest crowned their winner last night in San Jose.

You know you're a grown-up (physically at least) when ...

you're telling your grandma about your plans to move into a new apartment and you mention that your new roommie is going to loan you her spare twin bed to use until you can get yourself a "real" bed.

She says, "Why isn't a twin bed a 'real' bed?"

And you restrain yourself from blurting out, "what if I want to have someone over?? You can't fit two people in a twin bed!*" Saying instead, "Well, the futon I've had for the past year and a half is a full, and I don't really feel like going back to a twin."

*Yes, I know. Anyone who had a relationship while living in a college dorm knows that it is, in fact, possible to fit two people in a twin bed. But I've been out of that scene for 6 years now, and I got rid of my post-college twin bed a year and a half ago now. I've come so far, and I don't want to take a step back ... Not to mention that I was a lot thinner back then, and my boyfriend was one of those stick people, thereby making it easy to fit the both of us in a twin bed.

Useless Observation of the Day:

As far as I can tell, 8 of my last 30 referrers have clicked to my site from their mailboxes, the highest concentration I've ever seen of this phenomenon. And none of them seem to be repeats.

Another 8 are from search engines, looking for the same old stuff (sexy librarians, pictures of ex girlfriends, Kathy Lee Crosby, and people wearing diapers ... oh, and naked raves, of course).

Which leaves 14 direct requests from domains I don't recognize and a few direct links.

Strange.

UPDATE: one more unique mailbox referrer and another search on rave pics.

According to Dave, our double standards extend to the animal world as well.

Not to self: add GoodShit to the list.

Today's Word of the Day is languor \LANG-gur; LANG-ur\, noun:
1. Mental or physical weariness or fatigue.
2. Listless indolence, especially the indolence of one who is
satiated by a life of luxury or pleasure.
3. A heaviness or oppressive stillness of the air.

Very fitting.

When I spilled water all over my pants, I knew my drinking problem was getting out of control. But when I dropped my yogurt down the front of my shirt, then I knew that my eating problem was getting the best of me.

We need a Messy Eaters and Sloppy Drinkers Anonymous, for people like me, who have trouble with the whole hand-to-mouth concept.

A rant from my dad

I got an email today from my father. He and I both received the following bit o' nostalgia, but he responded first and he has a lot more experience with the "good old days" than I do, and his reaction is pretty similar to mine, so I thought I'd post his reaction rather than composing my own.

Warning: This is a long one, and not particularly entertaining. It just says a lot of what I feel about this desire to live in the "good old days", in the mistaken impression that they were better than today.

The email:

One evening a boy was talking to his grandfather about current events.

He asked him what he thought about the shootings at schools, the computer age, and just things in general.

His Granddad replied, Well, let me think a minute.

I was born before television, penicillin, polio shots, frozen foods, Xerox, contact lenses, Frisbees and the pill.

There weren't things like radar, credit cards, laser beams or ball-point pens.

Man had not invented pantyhose, dishwashers, clothes dryers, electric blankets, air conditioners, and he hadn't walked on the moon.

Your grandma and I got married first -- then lived together.

Every family had a father and a mother, and every boy over 14 had a rifle that his dad taught him how to use and respect.

Until I was 25, I called every man older than I, 'Sir' -- and after I turned 25, I still called policemen and every man with a title, 'Sir.'

Sundays were set aside for going to Church as a family, helping those in need, and just visiting with family or neighbors.

We were before gay-rights, computer-dating, dual careers, daycare centers, and group therapy.

Our lives were governed by the Ten Commandments, good judgment, and common sense.

We were taught to know the difference between right and wrong and to stand up and take responsibility for our actions.

Serving your country was a privilege; living here was a bigger privilege.

We thought fast food was what people ate during Lent.

Having a meaningful relationship meant getting along with your cousins.

Draft dodgers were people who closed their front doors when the evening breeze started.

Time-sharing meant time the family spent together in the evenings and weekends -- not condominiums.

We never heard of FM radios, tape decks. CDs, electric typewriters, yogurt, or guys wearing earrings.

We listened to the Big Bands, Jack Benny, and the President's speeches on radio.

I don't even remember any kid blowing his brains out listening to Tommy Dorsey.

If you saw anything with 'Made in Japan' on it, it was junk.

The term 'making out' referred to how you did on your school exam.

Pizza Hut, McDonald's, and instant coffee were unheard of.

We had 5 & 10-cent stores where you could actually buy things for 5 and 10 cents.

Ice cream cones, phone calls, rides on a streetcar, and a Pepsi were all a nickel.

And if you didn't want to splurge, you could spend your nickel on enough stamps to mail 1 letter and 2 postcards.

You could buy a new Chevy Coupe for $600, but who could afford one?

Too bad, because gas was 11 cents a gallon.

In my day, 'grass' was mowed, 'coke' was a cold drink, 'pot' was something your mother cooked in, and 'rock music' was grandma's lullaby.

'Aids' were helpers in the Principal's office, 'chip' meant a piece of wood, 'hardware' was found in a hardware store, and 'software' wasn't even a word.

And we were the last generation that was so dumb as to think a lady needed a husband to have a baby.

No wonder people call us old and confused and say there is such a generation gap.

And I'm only 59 years old.

Dad's reaction:

Well I am only 56 years old but I have much to say about what he seems to think were the good old days. There were things that added value in their simplicity. That I can accept. However, I don't know just how poetic he wants to be in picturing the good old days as without vices. "Pot" was quite popular in 1955 in Tulsa, Oklahoma and I don't mean as in "Pots and Pans." And the good old days had race riots like nothing you can imagine today. When was the last time the National Guard was called out for anything but a natural disaster? We used to do it for campus riots all the damn time. We even had the National Guard killing students on campus during Viet Nam protests - How incredibly insane is that?

You bet there was no penicillin and no polio shots. What in the hell is so great about that? I don't see people limping from polio any more and I remember people dying by the hundreds when the Honk Kong flu hit this country. We didn't understand anything like we do now about disease: good old days my ass. You can have them.

I can appreciate much of the social changes this guy doesn't like. I think [my stepdaughter] is wise to select this somewhat humiliating situation living with her parents rather being "cool" and living with the love of her life.

"It doesn't really matter, we will be married soon anyway. It doesn't matter."

Of course it matters. Just like "right" has always mattered.

The problem he didn't discuss is all the people today that examine right until it has no meaning. The four-year-old that drowned in the pool in Malibu yesterday has become a media "football." What I heard yesterday was all about parents and pools and baby sitters and the law and the owner of the pool and "what the invitation said" and didn't say.... I didn't hear anyone say one word about the boy: who he was, what his life was about, what he was like, and pause for a moment in our search for a demon to just respect life and pray for this small soul that passed without a chance. The message from something like this should be to look into our frenetic existence and say, life is too precious to trivialize ... his or ours. If his four years of life are to have some meaning, then let's live differently from this day forward. It is a travesty for us to now satisfy our dementia by looking for a villain so we can feel...

feel satisfied [why, we should not]

feel justified [what in the world does this do]

find justice [for what? ]

The real crime is what everyone is now doing to this child's life, prematurely over.

The guy makes good points too. It is refreshing that those of us that gave much of our life and some of us the supreme sacrifice for our country are appreciated in this society today. This is no longer something to hide or avoid revealing as it has been at other times in our history. It was unsafe to wear your uniform home on leave so we were allowed to travel military standby for the first time in civilian clothes so we didn't get spit on or worse. By the way, it didn't work but it probably lessened what did happen.

Yes, the good old days had their positives but they had their negatives too. So, it is less than productive to revere the past blindly and indict the present without the "common sense" he himself notes in his adoration of days gone by... Look for a balance old man. The past and present have much to be thankful for . . . and that wisdom . . . is from a guy that lived in both places, has read and understands the Ten Commandments, and is personally quite delighted that we have progressed markedly!!!


My Dad
56 years old
Retired Air Force Major
Child of 12 on occasion....

Get A Job You Freak: a work search resource for freaks

No, wait, A Canadian work search resource for freaks and other miscreants.

Every country should have one of these.

My new favorite blog.

Another valuable link, sent to me by a friend:

Tampon Angel Pattern

... 'cause only he would find (and then send) something like this.

I really need to find a working comments program, 'cause some of my posts have actually prompted people to write to me recently. Actually, it's just my "moving" post that has generated this sort of energy. Here are some of the comments I've gotten:

"Up until that last line I thought this was your Tomb Raider review."

"That was one of the more...provcative...descriptions of a move I've read in quite some time. I mean that in a Victorian fellow enjoying himself yet ashamed of himself because of it sort of way. I'm quite the eager prude."

"*whew!* Need any help with your next move? Or, more accurately, need anyone to come watch you sweat, breathe, heave, etc."

My phobia is listed here, right between

Arachibutyrophobia, the fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of the mouth

and

Arithmophobia, the fear of numbers.

Again, thanks to Jisheroo

Jish is right. Don't talk to the Muffin Trees. *shiver*

Have I mentioned how tired I am??

I'm working under the "look like you know what you're doing and maybe the knowledge will magically come to you soon."

Passed on to me by one of my co-workers:

Unclaimed Property Information

Find out if you're owed money by the state of California!!

The State of California is currently holding more than $2.6 billion in Unclaimed Property value belonging to approximately 5.2 million individuals and organizations. This property is mostly money left inactive or dormant by the owner for more than three years.

Except for a few months towards the end of grad school, I've never relied on caffeine to keep me awake.

When I discovered late nights at Denny's, clubs, boyfriends, and other ways of cutting into my sleep time, I developed different techniques to keep awake. I don't really know what those techniques are, I just know that I don't fall asleep very often in school or at work. Sometimes, though, I wish I liked coffee, since I'd really like to not feel so tired this morning.

Does caffeine make you feel more awake? Or simply less likely to fall asleep? Does it make you feel better? or just less bad?

A tired mind wants to know.

There are advantages and disadvantages to having three weeks to move to an apartment that's less than 5 miles away, especially for a procrastinator.

My apartment is a mess. Both of them are.

Hot.

Sweaty.

Racing pulse.

Heavy breathing.

Heaving breasts.

Yeah, I'm moving to a second story apartment.

I have to start moving today. I don't want to.

That's right.

I don't like little eight-legged buggies. I like big eight-legged buggies even less. So much so that it's hard for me to be in the same room with someone who's talking about them. If there's a picture of one on tv, I have to turn my head and trust a friend to tell me when the scene is over. And yes, even seeing the word freaks me out. Why? It could be because I opened a book once to find a rather large specimen had been squished in there. Freaked? Yes. A lot? Oh yeah.

And I've only described situations that are about them. Imagine what happens when I'm actually faced with one. *shudder* Damn my overactive imagination.

The same could be said about men.

I giggled, and my co-workers glared at me.

Um, yeah, that would be me.

I'm sure y'all have had your fill of humorous site translators, but I just tried the Redneck translator on my own site at The Dialectizer, and it just about had me rolling on the floor.

Found while trying to find a site that would translate a Swedish site for me. Still looking ...