Pastoral fantasy

John and I live in the middle of suburbia.  The epitome of suburbia.  It really really can’t get more suburban than where we live.  Lots of houses that all look the same, lots of people driving the same kinds of cars along all the same streets to take the same long commute to get to work and back.  When I go for a run in the morning, I’m running by the early-risers and long lines of cars.  There’s one stretch behind the high school where I run in the scraggly grass with the road on my right and the baseball field on my left, and usually I focus on the gradual uphill climb and uneven ground.  The other day I noticed little purple flowers lining the worn path in the grass, lots of little purple flowers, and for just a few seconds, I could ignore the cars zooming by 8 feet to my right and pretend I was running in a mountain meadow full of wildflowers.  It was a nice daydream, even if it didn’t last long.

A couple of days later, I spent a few minutes talking to a trail runner about where he runs and how to get there.  I may end up hating running on uneven ground (or where there may be snakes and other unpleasant things), but it’s something I’d like to try.  I think.

 

Best news I’ve heard all day

We do NOT have a bug problem.  The bug guy came over this morning and walked around the entire house with John.  He found no evidence of a bug problem aside from the porch columns, and he said those were mostly water damage.  Once the wood started to rot, the carpenter ants moved in to eat it.  We’ve already taken care of the ants, so all we have to do is replace the columns with properly-treated wood.  Yay!

John told me a joke just now, one he saw on Reddit today in a thread full of jokes people found funny when they were ten. Or six.  Pick your favorite immature age.  Yes, I laughed.

Why did Sally fall out of the tree?

Because she had no arms.

Knock knock.

Who’s there?

Not Sally.

Emotional roller coaster

Panera is toying with my emotions, guys.  A few months ago, they had a salad I loved.  The spinach power salad was awesome, and I got it every time I was near a location that offered it.  When they took it away, I was pretty disappointed.  So imagine my elation yesterday when I got an email from Panera with the subject “Celebrate the summer with a spinach salad.”  They brought it back!  Hooray!  John and I had just discussed picking up dinner from Panera for tonight (because going to the store is beyond us after a long work week), and now I could get my favorite salad.  The world is a wonderful place.

Today, though, I got a second email from Panera.  Subject: We’re sorry – we made a mistake.

We were so excited to send your monthly MyPanera® email yesterday that we failed to notice that the Spinach Salad we featured is no longer available. Please accept our apologies for any inconvenience you may have experienced.

We’d like to suggest that you try the Strawberry Poppyseed & Chicken Salad instead.

We hope you’re enjoying your summer — and thanks for understanding.

— your friends at MyPanera®

I was (I am) disappointed.  At least they sent a nice email.  But hey – it reminds me that I’m capable of making a similar salad myself.  We’ve been doing that with that salad I love from the Cheesecake Factory (French Country Salad) these past weeks, too.

French Country Salad

  • Good lettuces
  • Steamed asparagus
  • Pickled beets
  • Crumbled goat cheese
  • Balsamic vinaigrette
  • Pecans or walnuts

Spinach Power Salad

  • Spinach
  • Crumbled bacon
  • Boiled eggs
  • Fried onions (optional)
  • Some sort of sweet onion vinaigrette

So good, so good for you.  And it doesn’t count as cooking, so I can still say I don’t like to cook.

Who painted the target on my back?

I got hacked again this weekend.  Not the website this time, but my email.  I apologize to anyone who was spammed by me early Sunday morning (which appears to be everyone I’ve ever emailed from that account, and I’ve had that account for…15 years (ish), so that’s a lot of people). As soon as I noticed it, I changed my password for every account that uses that password.

Other than that, things are going well (which I feel oddly compelled to tell you as if we just ran into each other after a long break).  My vacation-bred serenity with regard to all things work-related is officially gone, but that only covers a third of my day.

Dude.  I went to a new (to me) salon to get a haircut (freshened the layers, kept the length – hey, this is important stuff) the other weekend.  I was very happy with the haircut, but not 100% sure about the guy who cut it.  He was very good, but kind of standoffish and very disapproving about how long it had been since my last haircut and how very much I don’t like to have to do anything to my hair every day.  And he didn’t talk to me.  So it was a little awkward.  Anyway, you know how I don’t answer any calls unless I know who’s calling?  (Nod.  I’ve said this before.)  Well, I broke my rule.  A local number I didn’t recognize just came up on my cell phone (like in between the two paragraphs up there – totally interrupted whatever boring train of thought I had going on), and I answered it.  The salon I went to is one of 15 in a local chain.  The woman who called me was the owner of the chain.  She said she always calls new clients.  She was super nice, and when she asked me to rate my hair-stylist and I only gave him an 8.5 (based on the vibe), she suggested two other stylists at the same location who might be better for me because “first impressions are important and you should be happy with who does your hair.”  She just found herself a loyal client.

The Cotswold Olympick Games – seriously, that’s a real thing

Here’s a little bit of randomness to end your day.

First, a video of Riley running across the yard.  I’ve been paying a lot of attention to Roxy lately (she hurt her leg while staying at the kennel two weeks ago, and we’re babying her), and I think he’s feeling neglected.

Check this out!  The shin-kicking in this video happened in Chipping Campden, the village we stayed in.  (Source and article.)

Last, can someone please explain this fortune to me?

Love is the first feeling people feel, because love is nice.

Was it written by a four-year-old?

It’ll be a while before the machines are ready to take over the world

We still have a land line at home.  I’m not sure why, really.   We use it to make some calls (the vet, the pharmacy), and our parents use it to reach us sometimes, but they use our cell phones at least as often as the land line.  We mostly ignore it because despite registering for every Do Not Call list out there, we get tons of telemarketers, political robocalls, and other spam.  We talked about getting rid of it not too long ago, but I think our main reason for keeping it is because it’s our primary contact number for every bill, every account, every everything, and it would be a pain to update those.  Not the greatest reason to keep paying for it.  It’s Vonage, so it’s cheap, but still.

As long as we still have it, though, I get some entertainment out of its visual voicemail feature.  All voicemail goes to my Yahoo account (another dinosaur, but I have better reasons for keeping it), but Vonage doesn’t always do a good job of transcribing what was actually said.  Sometimes the program gives up altogether, but usually it tries.  Just about half an hour ago, I got this visual voicemail:

“Hi Ms. Bird, this is Sharon calling from pointless mom. Just calling to let you know that your contacts are ready for pick up. Thank you”

That’s Vonage’s punctuation, not mine, and this is better than most since at least the second half makes sense.  It’s also only the second half that told me it was my eye doctor’s office calling.  I might suggest they change the name of their practice to Pointless Mom when I swing by tomorrow.  Much funnier.  I don’t know where that came from, though.  It doesn’t even rhyme with the actual name.  Speaking of names, no names had to be changed to protect the innocent – Bird is not my last name, and Sharon is not the name of the woman who called.  (I listened to the actual voicemail, too.)

None of this is convincing me to keep a land line for the house, but it has convinced me that I don’t have to worry about evil robotic overlords just yet.  Or maybe they just want me to think that…

Yay John!

I’m not sure it’s possible to cram more things into one weekend.  They were all good things, all fun things, but – what happened to my weekend?  We got up Saturday morning and met Erik and Margaret (and Corinne) for brunch.  Totally fun and very good to see them.  We got home Saturday afternoon, cleaned up after the dogs, and mowed the lawn.  Then we went out to see The Avengers (SO much awesome) with Will and Christina, and then, since we hadn’t seen them in a while (we’ve seen Will pretty regularly, but I haven’t seen Christina in nearly two years), we stayed out with them until nearly 1am.  This morning, we got up at a reasonable hour and headed to the George Mason campus for John’s graduation (from Virginia Tech, not George Mason).  Finally, it’s official.  John has an M.S. in Computer Science.  (I failed big time in the photo department.  Too blurry, too dark, too late – missed him.)  We met John’s parents and sisters there (they drove down for the ceremony and dinner after), so we had a very pleasant afternoon and evening with them.  Now we’re home, thoroughly exhausted, with dogs that wonder where the hell we went all weekend.  I only wonder where the hell all these ants came from.  We leave town in four days.  It’s be nice to solve this ant problem before then.

A brilliant (and probably not original) idea and some good news

While coming home from my disappointing pedicure yesterday, I found myself behind a car at a stoplight.  The light changed, but the guy didn’t go.  I waited a couple of seconds, he still didn’t go, so I lightly tapped my horn.  It didn’t come out so light.  I wasn’t irritated, I wasn’t in a hurry, it was no big deal, but to the guy in front of me, I must have sounded like “Hey!  Jerk in the car in front of me!  What are you, asleep?”  Not what I meant.  But I have a solution!  Every car should be installed with two horns.  One little one so you can politely nudge someone when it’s clear they just need a little help, and then the normal obnoxious one, still with the big button in the middle of the steering wheel, so you can find it easily in an emergency and pound on it when loud blaring blasts of your horn are called for (which is practically never, unless you live in New York, but that’s a whole different thing).  Problem solved.

Also this weekend, my most recent phone problem got fixed!  Yes, it still reboots when it overheats and I can’t always find the GPS satellite (so yes, I’ll still be shopping for a new phone soon), but last week, the button that lets me turn my screen on and off quit working.  WAY more annoying.  The only way I could do anything with my phone was to plug it in (or unplug it).  Then the screen would light up and I could make a call or check email or whatever.  Otherwise, nothing.  I took it to the Sprint store in the mall where the friendly technician took the whole phone apart and cleaned the button.  For free!  (Because I don’t have the protection plan and he can’t charge me for it and technically shouldn’t have been working on it at all.)  Yay!  And because I am a happy and grateful customer, I bought him a frappuchino.  And a cookie.  He also told me that I’m eligible for my upgrade in June, not August, and that technically, I’m eligible as of May 17th.  Double yay!

This would make my commute so much easier to handle.

Limp

Words.  Interesting thoughts.  Other words.  Yoga was especially nice tonight, but all that breathing and relaxation at the end drove any semblance of coherence away.  I’m barely upright (it was a long and tiring day), but very loose, so I’m heading to bed and hoping I don’t have any cop drama dreams tonight.  The alarm went off this morning as I was throwing a small bomb out the window so it wouldn’t blow up in the house.  It might have been a grenade.  Grenades are basically just small bombs, right?  But I could do without that kind of tension in my dreams.  Wish me luck.

Idiocy

I had a hard time getting moving today.  I needed to do laundry.  I thought about it several times throughout the day.  All I had to do was get up and do it, but my butt stayed in the chair.  It’s not hard.  It takes very little effort on my part.  I just didn’t make the effort.  (I did eventually get the laundry started.)

I’ve had a headache for the last, oh…3 hours.  Have I taken anything?  No.  Because that would be the smart thing to do.  And it would mean I’d have to move.  Get up, get water, get pills.  Put the laptop down…eh, my headache’s not so bad.

Riley is going to get stung one of these days.  Every time a bee or a wasp gets near him, he leaps for it and snaps at it.  I keep telling him he’s got it all backwards (“Buddy, it’s not a good idea to antagonize flying insects with stingers.  Trust me.”), but he’s not listening to me.

Maybe Riley can fight our battles for us.  He can wrestle with the developers who leave me hanging.  He can argue with the administrators who are running John’s paperwork in circles, and he can twist the arms of John’s committee members so they’ll show up for meetings.  Maybe all that fighting for us will take his (tiny crazy little) mind off trying to catch bumblebees in his mouth, and he can be spared the sting he’s heading toward.

Hey, I think my headache is going away.

Very Important Questions

  1. While I finish cleaning the house in preparation for Mom and Dad’s visit, I want to listen to music.  Do I want to sing and dance and have a good ol’ time?  Or do I want to listen to classical music and calm my crazy crazy brain?
  2. What are we having for dinner tonight?  We have NO food in the house.
  3. There wasn’t enough wine left in the bottle for a whole glass, so I poured the rest of it into a small tumbler.  Does that make me a wino?  (At least I’m not drinking it straight out of the bottle.)
  4. Why don’t people burst into song and choreographed dancing on a regular basis?

That’s where the sea monsters live

I like how the internet is like magic on TV.  Anyone can find out anything in one quick search.  And don’t get me started on the police and the FBI.  All of their databases are connected, all the time, and the TV character doing the search has the right access to pull information from any legal database in the world.  Wouldn’t it be nice if it really worked that way?

Have a pretty picture.

I want to go to there. But only in daylight. That cave would creep me out at night.

Every time I see a great house on the water somewhere, I think how great it would be to live there.  But then I remember two things about me and water:

  1. If it’s still, it will have mosquitoes and I will be eaten alive.
  2. If it’s running, I will have to pee ALL the time.

So maybe I shouldn’t go live in a house on the water.

Musing on nothing in particular

  • John caught Riley drinking my coffee this morning.  Later, he (Riley, not John) knocked the trash can down the basement steps and possibly ate some of the coffee grounds that spilled out.  Is my dog a caffeine junkie?  How did this happen?  How did I not notice?  It would certainly explain the high-strung behavior…
  • John made a pot roast (roast beef?  Is there a difference?  I don’t really care – delicious either way) for dinner tonight.  The house smells fantastic – like red wine and onions.  Warm red wine and onions.
  • I got a 96% on my fourth homework assignment in my data modeling class.  I was debating whether or not to argue with the professor because I think (and John agrees) that she’s wrong about that one answer.  I decided not to.  I got a 96%.  Arguing for a 100% isn’t necessary.  I’m letting it go.
  • I’m drinking white wine instead of red even though we’re having pot roast (or roast beef) for dinner tonight.  Ask me if I care.  (Hint: I don’t.)

New Year’s Eve Eve

Today I ran errands (ALL the errands!).  Tomorrow I have to clean.  And see our friends.  And drink champagne.  And eat lots of food.  So much food.  I don’t think there’s any food left at Wegmans.  (I’ll tell you a secret: I bought it all.)

53tey

The previous paragraph is what I typed when I grabbed my laptop to keep it from falling off of the chair.  Secret of the universe?  Key to unlocking time?  Too simple.  Maybe it’s the code to get to next year.  Way to wait until the last minute to reveal it, universe.

Quiet, you quazy quackers!

A crossword clue I liked the other day: Tango quorum.  Maybe because I like the word quorum.  And quagmire.  And quackery.  Quell.  Quench.  Quibble.  Quest.  But I have never understood why the uppercase cursive Q looks like a big floppy 2.  Whose decision was that?

I finished reading Orson Scott Card’s Hidden Empire yesterday.  There are times when knowing more about an author makes reading their books more enjoyable.  There are times when knowing more about an author makes no difference whatsoever to how you feel about their books.  And there are times you wish you could unlearn things about an author because you were SO much happier reading those books before you knew what you know now.  Orson Scott Card falls into the third category for me.  In high school, when Randy badgered me into reading Ender’s Game (I have no idea why I needed badgering, but thank you for doing it), I didn’t know anything about him (OSC, not Randy).  I LOVED Ender’s Game.  I still really like it, and I like all the sequels.  I’ve read just about every novel OSC has written, and with the exception of the Homecoming series and maybe one or two others, I really liked them.  Later, I found out OSC was Mormon.  Not a big deal – an author’s religion is completely irrelevant to me.  Knowing that, though, made me notice that it comes through in his Alvin Maker series, but those books are still fantasy (alternate history with magic), and I like them.  His religion, his feelings about religion, come up sometimes, in some books, but they don’t get in the way of suspension of belief.  Usually.  Yes, one of Ender’s parents is Mormon and the other is Catholic and that’s why they want more than their allowed number of children and yes, the government in the book is painted as evil for hating religion (and other things).  It’s still part of the story, and when I first read it (the first few times I read it, probably), I didn’t see that plot point as anything other than a plot point.  I can still NOT view it as something planted by the author for a reason because it serves the story.  It helps that the vast majority of his books take place in the past or in the far future.

A few years ago, I found OSC’s website.  He writes a weekly column called “Uncle Orson Reviews Everything”, and for a long time, I enjoyed reading it.  At least, I enjoyed reading it when he was reviewing books and movies and restaurants and random products.  I like his writing style, and I’ve found that I like (and often love) books that he recommends.  Sometimes, he discusses politics and world events.  I can’t read him when he discusses politics and world events.  I see red.  He’s a Democrat who hates Democrats.  He thinks global warming is the left’s religion.  He – no, that’s not my point.  My point is that I know this about him now.  And I can still dismiss it when he’s writing science fiction or fantasy that takes place in the future or the past or in nothing resembling real life.  But Hidden Empire (and Empire, which came out a few years ago) takes place in the immediate future.  I don’t remember having as much a problem with Empire, but with Hidden Empire, I couldn’t go two pages without being hit over the head with his worldview.  Right, people who believe global warming is a problem secretly want a third of the world’s population to die.  Sure, only Christians would volunteer to help the sick and dying.  The action was good.  The preaching was not.  I was disappointed.  End of review.

I started to quote bits of OSC’s latest reviews as examples of what makes me want to tear my hair out, but reading those articles is making me crazy, so I’ll just link to a couple.  You can read them if you want to.  Then breathe deeply.  He gets into politics in this one from 9/15/11 and there’s a section on Herman Cain in this one from 11/3/11.

Know what I mean, Vern?

You know that feeling when you’ve promised someone you’ll do something and then the time comes and you REALLY REALLY REALLY don’t want to do it?  But you still have to?  I hate that feeling.  And I don’t want to do it.  But I will.

I did, and it was fine.

You know what I love?  Three-day weekends.  I LOVE three-day weekends.  Even when they’re full of stuff to do (calculus quiz) and errands to run (too many to count), that extra day gives me SO much time.  I don’t feel rushed.  I love that.  All weekends should be three days long.

You know what else is fun?  Updating your Amazon wish list.  It’s like following all those links and getting lost in Wikipedia, except you’re finding stuff you want to buy.

And you know what ELSE?  A cooking brisket is one of the best smells in the world.  And there’s only about half an hour left before we can eat.  I’m not sure John is going to last that long.

Thank you for your time

Dear Internet,

I need a nap.  Every day I need a nap.  Every day I have to get up at five, definitely, but every day would be nice.  Would you mind changing the work culture in this country to make that acceptable?  Not all of us can work for Google or Pixar or Rockstar Games (where I hear they encourage, or at least allow, such things).  If you, Internet, are not the right, um, entity to whom this request should be addressed, would you please tell me who I should ask?  Santa, perhaps?  The Tooth Fairy might be interested in labor laws, but I don’t know how much influence she really wields.

Thank you,

Zannah

It’s a kind of magic

I have what seems to be a bottomless, self-refilling (Is that a thing?  What was the adjective that described the wallet in The Black Cauldron The Book of Three?  And can I just say that calling a bottomless thing that provides endless amounts of food a “wallet” confused the hell out of me when I was whatever age I was when I read that?  So much so that it stuck with me.  Where was I?) never-ending can of shaving cream.  I’m not even kidding, you guys.  (I can’t type that with a straight face.)  No, really, it’s super-light, has been for weeks, feels totally empty when I shake it, but there’s always enough shaving cream for my legs.  It’s amazing.  I should take it on the road.