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MENU NO. 14
In which I eat REALLY OLD FOOD. For fun!
I’d never eaten an MRE in my life. So it was about time, I think.
MRE stands for, obviously (not) enough, “meal, ready-to-eat.” If that doesn’t convince you that the military is awesome, I don’t know what will. Because HELLO? MEAL, READY-TO-EAT? What?!
Anyway. My dad rolled into town yesterday, and when my brother and I were over visiting him he produced a couple of vegetarian MREs from the case of meals, ready-to-eat that my uncle had given to him. I immediately freaked right out with joy because I’d had no idea there was such a thing as a vegetarian MRE, and I pretty much wanted to eat one on the spot except I’d just had a Gardenburger.
Behold! Two vegetarian MREs of my very own! They’re adorable, dense little aardvarks of beige-colored food goodness, OMG would you just LOOK AT THEM:
MREs are irradiated and VERY well-packaged (read: you could probably store one under water for a year), so they last a disturbingly remarkably long time. People have been known to eat them five, ten, even fifteen (or more!) years after they were manufactured without dying.
Each meal contains about 1,300 calories (nearly an entire day’s worth of calories for me) and weighs probably 1-1/2 pounds.
I opened one of the packages on the spot and oohed and aahed over the contents, and then I got online and read about C rations (what grandpa ate in WWII), K rations, and MCI (what dad ate in Vietnam), (all of which came complete with four cigarettes at every single meal), MREs, FSRs (they have caffeinated gum in them, for reals) and other kinds of pre-packaged meals (like HDRs – humanitarian daily rations).
My dad, who couldn’t use his computer because I was in the way, commented that he could almost see the blog post taking form in my head. “You’ll have a few thousand words, probably,” he remarked.
“Oh, man! I totally want to try the Indian food meals!” I replied, apropos of nothing. “And look! Omelets! There’s no fuckin’ way those are edible!” I tried to get dear ol’ dad to give me all of the vegetarian MREs he had – apparently meal 12 is a rice and bean burrito! – but he would only part with the pasta dishes because he doesn’t like noodles.
Today, I decided to go ahead and eat one of my precious veggie MREs. It was labeled “Meal, Ready-to-Eat, Individual, Vegetarian, Menu No. 14,” and contained the following items:
Pasta with Vegetables in Alfredo Style Sauce
TS Fruit (Pineapple)
Granola Bar
Peanut Butter
Crackers
Fruit Filled Bar
Hot Sauce
Accessory Packet D (Lemon Tea w/Sugar, Apple Cider, Salt, Chewing Gum, Matches, Toilet Tissue, Towelette)
Spoon
Flameless Heater
Yay! Science! Quite possibly fatal science! Let’s rock this project!
I opened the granola bar first. It was technically edible, but the oils in it had gone rancid some years ago. I ate about 20% of it, but the smell bugged me. If I was truly hungry, though, I would have eaten it anyway. It may not have contained all the nutritional value it once did, but I’m sure it was harmless.
The fruit bar didn’t smell or taste bad, but it did look a little weird – the fruit had turned black, and the bar was kinda smashed. I took a couple of nibbles, but didn’t finish it.
The accessory pack is the best part because it not only has salt, matches, and toilet paper, but it also contains the famous tiny glass bottle of Tabasco sauce that MREs are famous for:
The crackers also smelled just slightly rancid, but were certainly edible. I put some of the fortified peanut butter on them. I was certain the peanut butter would smell off because it contains so much oil, but it didn’t. I ate one cracker and about a third of the peanut butter.
Then, feeling a little nervous, I turned to the most foreign and interesting part of the MRE: the flameless ration heater. I read the directions twice, grabbed my water bottle and pouch of pasta, and proceeded to “cook” my dinner.
The directions have you open the heater bag, insert your entrée, and add a few ounces of water. Then you fold the bag over and put the whole thing back into the entrée’s box. Let it sit horizontally for a minute, then prop it on a “rock or something” (that’s verbatim from the instructions, I kid you not) for another eleven minutes. Apparently the heater is non-toxic and can safely be thrown away.
I nuked a mug of hot water, poured the apple cider mix into it, and drank it while my entrée was heating. The cider tasted just fine.
The heater bag emits steam and makes homey little gurgling noises while it heats your food. It’s SO FREAKING COOL. It’s charming as hell because it’s warm, food-oriented, and a bitchin’ use of science. I can imagine it being really pleasant if you were somewhere cold and/or dark, because you could hold the thing while your food was heating and feel good for a few minutes.
Lacking a rock in my bedroom, I leaned mine against a wooden asana next to my yoga mat. I’m such a fucking hippie.
The entrée, when I opened it, was definitely hot. It was, I think, supposed to resemble shells and cheese, but I don’t know if the sauce was actually supposed to be cheddar-colored or if it had discolored with age. It had virtually no aroma. I tentatively took a bite.
Amazingly enough, the peas were still pea-shaped and had even retained the slightest amount of texture. I can’t recall what other vegetables were in there… carrots, maybe? The dish was much more palatable after I salted it, and that’s saying something since I never salt anything.
About an hour after I ate the entrée, I mixed up the lemon iced tea drink mix. It tasted just like instant iced tea. I don’t know that I’ve ever drunk two instant drink mixes in one day before in my life!
The pineapple and the gum remain unopened. I’m definitely curious to see how the pineapple will look. I expect that the gum will be indistinguishable from new gum.
I learned how to date the meal, and it turns out that the components were packed sometime in late 2000, making the meal just shy of a decade old. The Tabasco has 1008 stamped on it, which means it was packaged on January 8, 2001.
I saw nothing that would make me suspect the safety of the food – no bloated packaging, no spores or mold on the food – but its age makes me wonder if I should really be eating it. (Hah! Too late!) Plus my dad has eaten some out of the same case and he didn’t drop dead, so it’s not like I’m undertaking a dangerous activity.
All in all, a really fun and weird experiment, and I pretty much haven’t had to leave my room all day.
In conclusion, the heaters are AWESOME, the food is probably meh if you ever have to eat it for any reason other than for fun, the technology that allows this stuff to still be edible after a decade is AMAZING, and the fact that I actually ate it means I’m crazy brave and fierce!
Want more pics? View my goofy MRE gallery.
Update: The gum was hard but otherwise totally fine.
Update: The pineapple smelled like pineapple and was juicy, but it was also brown. I didn’t eat it.
Update: MREs can be purchased on eBay. There’s a bunch of people out there who apparently collect them, and others who stock them in case of The End Of The World, and others who stock them In Case Of Emergency and others who take them camping and still others who are clearly batshit insane militia people. Point is, the vegetarian MREs are often sold separately! Yay!
Update: Now that I’ve eaten two of these things, I can probably go the entire rest of my life without needing to eat any more of them. They’d make killer diet food, I think.
Pictures of stuff!
In which this post is, like, totally ILLUSTRATED.
I lost two pounds last week, in spite of that four-slices-of-pizza debacle. I lost no inches, though, because of all of those damned squats and crunches and push-ups and shit. Nine weeks to go to achieve my goal weight.
So naturally, yesterday Adam sent me some Swedish Fish. They’re delicious superfruity fish-shaped gummi wonderfulness. They’re also 150 kcal per serving, so I am ignoring them as we speak:
Last night I went to an afterhours party at a friend’s house. She has a cat that will walk into a plastic grocery bag and let you carry her around:
I found it to be so hilarious I carried that cat all over the house. In a bag! LOLz!
This morning I took Bindu to her annual check-up. They poked her with a needle and her rabies cert is good until 2013. She has some tumors the vet thought were not fatty lipomas, but since her overall health is good for her age, I don’t think I’ll worry about them. She pants a lot, she’s nearly deaf, and she’s always rubbing her face on the floor like it itches, but she also eats well, has lovely ears and teeth, wants to go on walks, and runs up and down my bedroom stairs all day long: pretty good shape for a 13- or 14-year-old dog. I might get a basic blood panel done next month, just for the hell of it, but the vet thought she seemed fine overall.
We stopped at the store on the way home, and although I did find fava beans (yay! ful meddames!) I didn’t buy any garlic. Ooops. I made freakin’ awesome delish chickpea curry for lunch, though:
I realize that today is Tuesday, but there’s a nice disco-y Monday Morning Mix for you, if you want!
Meme: I Haz Been Tagg3d to Do 1
In which Naughty made me do it.
This picture was taken in 2005 by my university friend Aimée in Patty‘s apartment in Manhattan:
The purpose of the gathering was a vocal rehearsal for my friend Barbara‘s a capella project. She writes the most amazing modern madrigals in her head; they’re literally a joy to sing. I met her when she spent a couple of years in Iowa and learned and performed her a capella material with her there. I was super stoked when she called me to come to New York to sing.
Two days after the picture was taken, an album was recorded at Live Wire, but the choir was too big and the energy too low and the recordings weren’t really usable. (It happens that way sometimes; you can’t order people to be brilliant just because you’re burning money on studio time.) Barbara’s dreams of a complete, professionally-recorded album of her a capella material remain unfulfilled, as far as I know.
Here’s Sweet True Love from that session. (I have a solo at the end; it starts at 3:59.) I remember that I loved getting a solo and singing in a pro studio, but also that I was starving, so I called the second take good and went to join the rest of the choir at dinner break as fast as my little legs would carry me.
I *heart* New York.
Rules:
1. Go to your first photo file and pick the 10th photo in it.
2. Tell the story behind the photo.
3. Tag 5 other people to do likewise.
I tag:
– anyone interested in doing this!
Dear Book Publishers: a Treatise on Ebook Insanity
In which publishers and sellers alike seem to be on the verge of losing their minds.
First off, let me just say that I’ve been reading ebooks since 1994. They’re not new. This whole ebook thing has been coming for a long, long time, and I can’t figure out why the big book publishers can’t figure out how to monetize ebooks without acting like morons.
Second off, I’ve been buying ebooks for a long time too, and I’ve read a lot of ebooks on a lot of platforms. Those are my creds as an ebook reader, so I kinda know what I’m talking about here, from a customer’s point of view. Seriously, I only know one person who has been reading ebooks as long as I have (this means you, NLW).
Third off, what the fuck is going on over at Amazon? They’ve pulled literally every Macmillan title due to some kind of “pricing dispute.” Apparently, Macmillan, after learning that the Apple ebook store will let them charge more than $9.99 per title, has decided that Amazon should do the same. Since Amazon sells virtually all of its ebooks at the $9.99 pricepoint, they pulled the Macmillan titles! (My beloved Tor is a Macmillan imprint, BTW.) It’s a freakin’ mess, and you know who’s getting hurt?
The authors. Because their BOOKS AREN’T SELLING.
A lot of treeware publishers are doing a terrible job embracing the ebook format. They’re running around carrying on about DRM and sounding like idiot RIAA executives from the 90’s. It’s a mess. They should all go read Eric Flint’s brilliant argument for loss leaders and against DRM, written a decade ago, posted at the Baen Free Library.
Here are some truths:
1. DRM DOES NOT PROTECT YOUR CONTENT! EVER!
2. PIRACY IS NOT THAT BIG OF A GODDAMNED PROBLEM!
3. THE BIGGEST PROBLEM FOR AUTHORS IS EXPOSURE!
1. I have never given anyone an ebook that I have purchased. NEVER. Not once. (Well, maybe once or twice, but if so I don’t remember it.) But if I wanted to give someone an ebook, the file format wouldn’t matter – any secure format can be broken. Back when the iTunes store was still selling music with DRM, all you had to do to break it was burn your songs to disc and then rip them back into your library! Duh! I have software on my computer right now that will break DRM on music, video, and certain ebook formats. Why? Because sometimes I want to use my content on hardware other than the hardware the seller wants me to use it on. Since I PAID FOR IT, I feel completely fine about breaking the DRM for my own ends, just as I feel fine tearing a blank page out of a treeware book to write a note on.
2. I’ve read absurd projections by some publishers; they claim they would lose a huge amount of money if they distributed new book releases in non-secure ebook format. WTF, over? They sound just like the record companies. I can’t believe these people didn’t pay attention to electronic formats in the music industry! Where the hell were they? Yes, some content gets pirated, but so what? It’s free advertisement! A truly heartening percentage of the ebook reading public is made up of moral people who will, if they can, pay for things they’ve enjoyed. Piracy does not “lose” you money. You can’t lose money you never had in the first place.
3. And, as they say so well over at Baen, loss leaders WORK. If you have a trilogy, give the first book away for free in ebook format. It’s cheap because all you have to do is format it once and host it; there are no manufacturing costs involved. You’ll find (if the book doesn’t suck) that the entire trilogy’s sales will increase: win/win for publisher and author.
Hey big publishers, the electronics are coming! You gotta get ready! It used to be a sub-market of weirdos like me with rare hardware, but now we’ve got the Kindle and the iPad and by the end of this decade the ebook format is going to be ubiquitous. You need to figure this out tout de suite. You are going to have to embrace the ebook format. You are going to have to take a smaller cut on electronic books, and you are going to have to change your product release cycle to quit holding ebook versions for ten months and then overcharging for them.
We, your audience, know perfectly well that the cost of producing a treeware book is SIGNIFICANTLY LARGER than the cost of releasing an ebook, and it pisses us off when you set ebook price points at hardcover levels. (I didn’t buy the a particular Guy Gavriel Kay book for over five years because it was nearly thirty bucks. THIRTY BUCKS FOR AN EBOOK? I waited until it came down to proper ebook range before I bought it.) It also pisses us off when we learn that between you and the ebook vendor, authors are making pennies off of ebooks – that’s why we buy them, when we can, directly from the author’s website, or from ebook sellers who are known to pay higher percentages.
With the paper, printing, and shipping out of the equation, all a publisher does is select, edit, and promote. That pretty much makes you an agent, which lowers your take pretty significantly. Which is okay, because the book market is huge. Readers tend to read a lot, and ebook readers will continue to make it easier and easier to read (and buy) a lot of content.
You have got to change.
Please, do it more gracefully than the music industry did, mmm’kay? You need to get ebooks to market alongside the treeware versions, and yes, you have to charge less for them. You have to select industry-standard formats; don’t bring yet another format to the table because there are already dozens. Forget about stupid DRM, too, because it DOESN’T DO ANYTHING BUT ANNOY EVERYONE. Design and implement appropriate sales tracking, so that you can see for yourself that ebooks can actually increase treeware sales. (Look at Cory Doctorow! He releases all his books in ebook format… for free! And he’s a success. Go figure!)
Believe me. This doesn’t have to be scary, and you don’t have to look stupid. Mellow out, there, big fellas. It’ll be okay.
Happy New Year!
In which I had a great time on New Year’s Eve at Pub 21 with the band.
Load-in was at 4:30, but I was late because I had to take a paper copy of my resume (and cover letter and references) to WorkSource to apply for a job.
WTF? Why wouldn’t they let me email it to them? Not only did I have to drive over there in the snow to deliver three pieces of paper, but they scanned the documents to send – one assumes electronically – to the employer; somehow they couldn’t use the DOC and PDF format copies I’d helpfully brought along on a thumb drive, and they wouldn’t let me email the items in the first place! The mind boggles. It’s like it’s still 2002 at WorkSource or something.
Anyway.
We finished setup and did a sound check and still had three hours left before the gig. The weather was crap – snow and freezing rain – and the streets were treacherously icy in a pickup with no weight in the bed.
I went home and changed my pants (it turned out there was a hole in them) and read Makers in the interim.
The gig was a blast. People started dancing during the second song of the first set, and danced most of the night. The substitute bass player – the regular guy had another gig – did a fantastic job. (So fantastic, in fact, that I gave him a big ol’ bossy lecture about how “you only regret the things you didn’t do” and why he should move to a city and actually play for a living.)
Bob gave me a couple of glasses of wine for free because I was in the band. I gave out a bunch of business cards so people could get free downloads. My friend Sheila came and I danced about twelve bars with her and Shelley. Rob sold a bunch of the Kings’ latest CD.
Since I never make New Year’s resolutions, I made none this year. Yay! I’ve already averted much fail by simply doing nothing.
Speaking of doing nothing, I was supposed to be back over at the venue at one o’clock the next day for load-out, but The Curse™ had arrived and I slept all damn day instead. I suck. I’m lucky anybody ever hires me.
Today, I need to find a job to apply for (ideally via email, fer chrissakes) and I’m going to read a bunch of Cory Doctorow’s Little Brother on my Kindle.
The Kindle
In which I review the new device!
For Christmas, I bought myself a Kindle. (It probably wasn’t particularly clever to spend nearly three hundred bucks on an unnecessary electronic device the very week I got laid off, but whatever. This may be why I never had kids. Moving on!)
The form factor is nice. It’s light, thin, and sleek. It’s comfortable to hold. The screen is, surprisingly, quite easy to read, even in fairly low light situations – though I’ll still be buying a clip-on light since I happen to like to read in no-light situations. A lot. (Side effect of having read ebooks on backlit devices for the past twelve years is that I expect to be able to read in the dark: cars at night, unlit rooms, pubs, etc.)
I think the ‘NEXT PAGE’ buttons are placed too low. I have monstrously long thumbs and I’m pretty sure the button placement would be annoying to men or other persons with large hands. The 5-way mouse thingy could have been a little more elegantly designed, but for a second-generation device it’s fairly well thought out. It’s attractive-looking. (I never in a million years would have purchased the original Kindle. OMG that thing was hideously ugly.)
I don’t know why it’s white, except that maybe they were going for a clean, upwardly mobile Apple thing. I wish it came in grey or black, because I think the white case makes the screen look dingy.
The keyboard is almost entirely useless, but at least it’s there. The ‘experimental’ browser is the same because it can’t display a lot of common web content, not just because I have a slow Whispernet connection.
It’s really, really easy to browse Amazon.com and buy ebooks, though. Wow. They totally got that part right! Instant delivery! I can already imagine the joy of this feature when finishing book 2 of a trilogy and being able to get book 3 immediately no matter where I am.
The ‘HOME’ layout is stupid and needs to incorporate tags or genres or folders or something, to save one from having to page through 1,500 titles at a mere 10 titles per page. I’m still digging around in various Kindle superuser forums to see if there’s a hack for that.
The battery life is astonishingly good. I’ve seen some complaints in various forums that leaving the wireless on will drain the battery faster, but my device hasn’t been charged since the day I got it and has used only 25% of its charge. I’ve left wireless on the whole time.
Another wonderful feature is native PDF support. This is freakin’ awesome! I currently have my résumé and a sock pattern – both PDFs – on my Kindle just because I can.
Two of my favorite ebook stores, Fictionwise and Baen, support Kindle. All of my non-DRM Mobi format ebooks can be read on the device.
My particular Kindle is a K2i, which means “Kindle 2 International,” which means it’s an AT&T device (rather than a Sprint device like the U.S. version). I mention this because, well. Here’s a map of the AT&T coverage where I happen to live:
Dark purple is 3G, lavender is lower-speed EDGE, and the red box in the middle is Walla Walla. I only get one bar most of the time; two if I’m standing in the yard.
Still, although book downloads don’t take place “in under a minute” for me, I signed up for free 14-day free trials of The New York Times and Blog Kindle, and it’s pretty cool when they’re both there when I wake up in the morning. It would be an especially trick freature for those with long bus or train commutes, because they wouldn’t have to do anything like sync the device to get their news each day.
Each Kindle comes with its own @kindle.com email address, so you or designated others – maybe people at the office – can email ebooks to your device. Neat! (Oh, but Amazon charges you a dime or more every time you do so. Boo! Hiss!)
I discovered Calibre, an iTunes-like ebook application (it’ll even download cover art) that syncs with a variety of ebook readers including the Kindle. I told it where all my ebooks were, and it organized them like iTunes organizes music. It will even convert ebooks from one format to another so that they can be read on different device types. Best of all, it aggregates feeds and either syncs them to the Kindle over USB, or emails them at a particular time every day, neatly solving the $12 per month fee one has to pay Amazon for daily delivery of each blog or newspaper. (Calibre looks like this.)
Apparently, Mobipocket Reader software can also be used to manage one’s Kindle and news feeds.
I had to hack my Kindle, of course, to take custom wallpapers, because… well, I just had to. (Here are the wallpapers I made.)
I’m pretty happy with my Kindle. We’ll see if I’m still in love with it in six months. It’s not half as portable as the iPod Touch, on which I have three different ebook reading apps installed (including Amazon’s Kindle for iPhone, which syncs furthest-read with the Kindle so I can switch back and forth easily).
I suspect that my Kindle will live at home, and I’ll use it primarily for long novels and news while continuing to carry the iPod Touch literally everywhere with me and reading short stories on it.
Total: 4 out of 5 stars
The Kindle is everything Amazon says it is, I just don’t know if I’m the right user for this particular device. I’m so used to having my ebook reader be a single application on a device that does a variety of other things that a dedicated ebook device seems a little stunted. I think if I’d magically received a Kindle DX I might have thought, “Now here’s a proper dedicated ebook reader!” because honestly the screen real estate on this device doesn’t pack the punch I’d need to see. The Kindle is a joy to interact with, and while my functional needs might be otherwise, intellectually I like the simplicity of a dedicated device that does only one thing, and does it well.
Update: A few weeks after I got my Kindle, AT&T rolled out better coverage in the Walla Walla valley. Yay!
Rockstarishness! With a side of quasi-idiot.
In which I have a fairly rotten cold. And a lot of fun, too, but the fun sure ain’t helping my cold any.
Thursday, I was pretty much wrecked at work because I’d decided to party the night before, but it turns out that I’m actually even better at phone-based IT work when I’m exhausted: it makes me talk – and think – more slowly and most customers really respond well to me when I’m half crippled.
The Dog Park and Two Bars
Friday, Bindu and I went to the dog park with our new friends J– and Turbo. Here is a fuzzy picture of Bindu and a couple of random Labs:
I met the cutest two-year-old English bulldog bitch in the entire world. The thing was built like a flat-faced toad, was totally friendly, and had the most hilarious underbite ever. I laughed every time she looked at me.
After that, J– and I went to the pub and had sweet potato fries (after intense deliberation I have decided that I do not like them) and built this awesome fire and talked our faces off and OMFG ARE WE HILARIOUS:
Then we went to the Red Monkey and hung out with Becca and Adam. I took this picture of my drinkin’ buddies shortly after we’d entered the “You are so cool, I fuckin’ love you, man!” phase of our evening:
We went to after hours at J–‘s house on Stateline when the bar closed. I slept on the couch; J– slept on the floor because some other dude had passed out in his bed.
Around eleven the next morning I went home and slept in my own bed until I had to get ready for the gig. I coughed for, oh, about three hours straight. Stupid cold. Stupid girl who stays out all night with a cold!
The Gig!
Saturday night was the Mega Jam Blues Slam at the Kennewick Jack*son’s:

There were four bands. The Coyote Kings went on second; I fronted their last 3 songs for them. I had the dance floor COMPLETELY PACKED while I was onstage, and did a little “Lemmie get a hell yeah!” “HELL YEAH!” thing with the audience that really amused me. The crowd was really superlative and the joint was packed. This pic was taken while we performed a cover of Delbert Mcclinton’s Shaky Ground:
I’ve been coughing my face off for a week now, so I’m relieved I only did a few songs; I don’t think the voice would have lasted much longer than that.
Walking around the venue after getting off stage was fun because most of the people in the crowd were blues society members; one entire table actually started clapping when I walked by, and a couple other people just full-on hugged me. I gave out a lot of business cards and decided that I need to buy one of these and get a bunch of old live cassette tape recordings into MP3 format so people can have more free downloads.
There was supposed to be a jam at the end of the evening, but there were two more bands doing sets after ours and most of the Kings just didn’t want to hang out. Since Becca and I had ridden to Kennewick with Rocket and S–, we went with them over to cute little biker bar Dax’s in Richland and listened to a set from the Seattle rockabilly band, Guns n Rosetti. Then we went home because no one – the bass player, the drummer, myself – was really interested in going all the way back over for the jam… I wanted to go, sure, but mainly I was congested and tired and needed to go home to bed since I had to work the next day.
Sundays are mellow.
That next day is today. I’m at work. The volume is really low and frankly I’m wondering if I’m going to get rescheduled or simply laid off or what. Anyway. Behold the office Xmas tree:
I wish I could get sushi for lunch, but I think they’re closed on Sundays.
There’s something deeply satisfying about just getting drunk with people and hanging out; my only regret is that this week’s opportunity to do so coincided with so much snot. Snot, snot, snot. I’m snot-locked.
In other words, I’ve had a lot of fun. But I also have a deep, wracking cough that probably wouldn’t sound like this if I’d not done the drinking/smoking/standing outside in the cold/staying up all night bit. I believe that barring a call from Mick Jagger wanting to party on his Lear jet I’ll just go ahead and take the next week off and act like a mundane: bed rest, herbal tea, dog cuddles, and no staying up all night again until the cough is gone.
Wednesday night insanity! Featuring strange pillows!
In which I totally raged old school style on a school night, yo.
I’ve been fighting a cold. I am quite congested. I should be hydrating and resting, of course. It’s annoying.
Last night after work it seemed like a good idea to go down to the bar on the corner to have a drink and read a little before going home. Well, you know how things go: I started with a cocktail and ended up this morning with my head on a strange king-sized pillow and some random cuddly boy octopussed around me.
Surprise!
Seriously. I totally didn’t see that coming.
And by “morning” you should understand that I mean noon-ish, because I work swing now and don’t have to be to the office until one. Which is, yes, terribly rockstar of me, now that I think about it.
Anyway.
At the bar last night I sat next to the owner; we talked, he bought me a round. I met a dude named J– in a cute corduroy coat and he and I hung out with A–, one of the sushi chefs from Aloha who often makes my roll when I go there for lunch. I ended up with a loan officer’s business card. Somebody bought another round. Hilarity ensued. Eventually A– left, and J– and I hung out with W–, the DJ at whom I yelled “Are you fucking kidding me?! Are you fucking kidding me?!” last weekend when he started spinning Old Time Rock ‘n’ Roll right after Beyoncé or something. (Yeah, he totally remembered me for that.)
Long story short: I ended up at an after-hours party in a Full-On Bachelor Pad (complete with lawn furniture in the living room and boxers all over the bathroom floor). There were beers. I decided not to drive, and the host invited me to sleep in his bed since there was no couch. I only got about five hours of sleep because I kept waking up (there may have been some overheating on my part, and some sleep apnea on his) and while it was technically stupid to party when suffering with a cold, I most decidedly needed the laughing and hilarity and carrying on.
I have new numbers in my cell phone, tentative plans to hang out with some people Friday night, and Bindu and I have a date to go to the dog park this weekend with J– and my new canine friend, his Australian sheppard T–, whom I hope will become Bindu’s new friend. I would say that in spite of feeling exhausted (and having had to call my G’ma this morning like a kid to say, “Hey, it’s me. Just wanted to let you know I stayed at a friend’s house last night and I’m not in a ditch or something”), it was time well spent.
And I totally didn’t get laid, alright? On purpose. Now please excuse me while I take a little disco nap here on my keyboard before my next call.
Due to technical issues, this post has been replaced with a poorly-structured second attempt.
In which my fucking browser ate my post so I had to write the whole thing all over again! Gah! So NOW this post is totally an exercise in Weird Tense. It’s a good thing I majored in Literature, y’all, or we’d never make it through this.
Yeah, so I’d started out today’s missive with something about this morning’s yoga class and how after only going twice I can touch my toes again, and how I paid for the rest of the sessions to make myself keep going.
And then I told you (again, but you forgave me) that I bought a yoga mat, and that it will be here Tuesday, and you were all happy for me and my yoga class.
Then I said something about how every time I want to write a blog post, all I can think about is stuff I’ve seen online, and how I’m not really doing anything IRL but working and sleeping. And then I cleverly said something about how I should get excited and make things so everyone would know that I know all about the Internet’s meme-of-the-week and I thereby retained my geek cred, which is totally important since obviously that’s all I have.
Then I cleverly segued into something along the lines of how much I love the Internet because it’s so awesomesauce and I was all ‘and here’s a story to prove it,’ and I went on to tell you about how last week someone on Twitter – where my entire social life takes place – linked to these totally fantastic posters some guy had designed for IYA09, and I told you about how I’d left a comment on the post – because hello! did you see those posters?! how could I not comment? – and that that’s what got me an email this week letting me know that the posters were now available for purchase.
Then this morning, Keef (the humanoid who has awesomely been hosting my site for free for about a geological age) hit me up on IM to discuss some server stuff, and I asked him if he’d seen the posters, and he hadn’t, so then I linked him, and then he had, and he allowed as to how wouldn’t they be great screenprints, and I totally agreed, and then it evolved into him emailing the artist to see if he, the artist, was interested in actual honest-to-God screenprinting, not that giclée stuff, which basically means “ink jet” anyway, and the artist said he’d already been asked several times if the posters would be available in that format, and it turns out that Keef totally does screenprinting, and so there you go.
Point being, I didn’t actually get excited and make anything myself, but I know people – online – who totally do that shit all the time.
And I watched CERN’s tweets as they spun up the LHC, and hung out at a live talk about Drake’s Equation at Astronomy.fm (during the moments I was blowing off the Tedious Data Entry Project I’m involved in at work) and so basically, other than going to yoga class and smiling at a bunch of strangers and being reminded yet again of my total and complete lack of muscle strength, I’ve really basically just had my head up the Internet’s arse all day.
Oh, did I mention that I love the Internet?
I did?





















