A few new pictures of our niece, Parker, emailed to me by her mommy and daddy. She’s three months old already!
And yes, she does appear to still be a redhead.
Is it weird that every time I think of her name, Parker, I think of Charlie Parker, which today for some odd reason reminds me of the Steely Dan song ‘Charlie Freak’? Will it stunt her growth if I start calling her Charlie Freak when she’s only three months old?
So today my boyfriend Joe called me up for a lunch date. He’s a very good boyfriend that way – he maintains seperate relationships with me and Brett, and then built a whole ‘nother one for us as a couple when we got married. He’ll actually call one or the other of us – seperately – and ask us out to do things. Seperately! Most people tend to treat couples as couples, and generally only call to see both of you.
I love Joe. (This picture is old. It’s the first one I found of him in the gallery. He didn’t have quite as much hair at lunch today. Just so you know.)
Anyway, I picked him up at 1-Stop at twelve-thirty. (I gave my Prince Live at the Aladin DVD to the ever-gorgeous Mr J who ‘s gonna extract it into MP3s for me BECAUSE HE ROCKS.*) We went to Petit Paris and had some double-cream vegetable soup and spinach crepes and LARGE GLASSES OF WINE. It was freakin’ awesome and I had oodles of fun. The proprietess is adorable and beautiful, the food was yummy, the wine was brilliant, Joe made me laugh, and the chef was an adorable blue-eyed brunet boy with BRACES. So cute!
Lunch with Joe. You’re so jealous.
(*Prince. LIVE. On the iPod. Yesss.)
So I installed iPodder on CYBERACD (a fairly idle server here at LISCO that Bucket gave me pcAnywhere access to), added a few feeds to it, and synched the results onto my mini.
I’ve now got about a hundred minutes worth of podcasting in my pocket. Gawd I hope they don’t all suck.
I surfed Podcasting News, Podcast Alley, and podcast.net for stuff to listen to, and I can’t believe how many husband/wife shows there are. It’s like an epidemic. I asked Buzz, “Who the hell wants to listen to married couples talk? Is there some huge market of unmarried, desperate-to-BE-married people out there with iPods who download this stuff?” (Then later, still surfing for ‘casts, I mumbled, “With my luck I’ll become totally facinated by married podcast shows, turn into someone who listens to nothing but married couple podcasts. That’ll totally suck.”)
Anyone, anywhere, with a tiny bit of equipment and a DSL can ‘produce’ their own ‘shows’ and put them on the Internet. It’s exciting, yes. But also a little bit creepy – reading something by a stranger is one thing, but HEARING it (do I really want to listen to some random married couple cooking in their kitchen?!) is altogether more intimate.
So tonight, as I drive home, I’m gonna check out some podcasts. And again, I sure hope it doesn’t suck.
How to put your iPod into iPod Diagnostic Mode.
Oh my God I love Dooce so much: Email: Best wishes in growing up. OMG, OMG, she’s so scathingly funny!!!
I have to say, even after getting five hundred hits from the Des Moines register, I have not gotten a single email from anyone. I haven’t even gotten any comments. Who knew I was so utterly non-controversial? LOL!
Two new by-request blinkies:
for Heather, and 
for Nicola.
I was going to blog a little, but then I noticed the dead alien so: oops, gotta go – there’s my boyfriend!
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Need a way to import art into iTunes? Here it is: iTunes Art Importer 0.9.2.
The gorgeous-est iPod mini case ever: The “Kimono” Case, by Power Support. (Oh, they also make ’em for non-minis.)
Standing at the cutting board in the kitchen, I sliced off the sides of the mango along the flat side of the seed as I’d been taught, and scored the flesh so it could be bent outward and easily eaten. I took one side to my husband who was on the couch, and sat on the edge of our dilapidated La-z-boy recliner to eat my portion.
I put out my right palm so Brett could drop his peel into it, and stood. As I crossed the threshhold into the kitchen, I told him, “A guy told me once that mango is the pussy of fruit.”
I returned to my knife and sliced off the remaining chunks of the mango for Brett, and kept the seed for myself. I returned to the living room, and watching Deadwood on HBO, we finished off the fruit.
Brett followed me into the kitchen to dispose of his peels and said, “Yes, it is the pussy of fruit.” And as an afterthought, he added, “But you can do things to a mango with your teeth you would never do to a pussy.”
I eyed him, scowling a little. “I never said it was a perfect analogy!”
He laughed.
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