Monthly Archive: January 2004

Jan 28

I can speak Dutch!

I can speak fluently Dutch!!:)
you are dutch. no other possibility.or, you are
from Belgium, that could be the case too.

can you speak Dutch????
brought to you by Quizilla

Or, perhaps more accurately, multiple choice quizzes can be used to prove anything.  Via Vvvvexation.

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Jan 28

testing spell check


Edited to add: it works, apparently! Hooray!

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Jan 28

Salad forks

Am I the only person who consistently prefers “baby forks” (aka salad forks) and “baby spoons” (teaspoons) to dinner forks and soup spoons?  Given a choice, I’ll always use the smaller implement… why would I want to use a fork that stabs me ’cause the tines or too long, or a spoon that holds more liquid than I can gracefully eat?

(Obvioulsy, in fancy-pants situations I use the appropriate cutlery but at home, on my own I’m all about the tiny flatware.)

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Jan 27

Right outside my window

Birdies! Yesterday I figured that the birds need food now more than ever, what with the ice and all) so Jeff scattered some birdseed outside (and set up the new feeder that I bought). So today I have at least one cardinal (a Mr. Cardinal) and several little juncos chowing down in my yard.

(Yes, I bought a big bag of seed so that we’ll be able to keep the feeder full, since I know it’s important to keep feeding them once you’ve started).

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Jan 26

Bad (BAD!!!) movie

I’ll put any spoilers (such as they are, more on that in a moment) behind the cut, but suffice it for now to say that I HATED this movie.

So Saturday after our indulgent spa thing (which was lovely & I am all bright and shiney and glowy now) Jeff and I went to Shaba Shabu (ed note: turns out the name is actually Shaba Shabu … we’d been thinking it was Shabu Shabu and pronouncing it [accordingly] incorrectly) for a nummy dinner on the Thai side (first time there, as usally we do the Japanese side).

Then, as it was still early, we decided to go see The Butterfly Effect:

more … semi-spoilers

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Jan 26


Technically speaking, I could work from home. But Nortel’s RTP-area offices are closed. So, I think, perhaps, I’ll check my email a little, but mostly I’m gonna do this.

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Jan 23

Blog steam

I usually run out of blog steam on Friday. Too pooped to post.

Tonight, the Cherish the Ladies* show with Jacintha at Stewart Theater — should be marvelous. Tomorrow: uber-indulgent spa day incl. glycolic peel (!). A fresher-faced Gina to emerge. Then dinner in Raleigh — I’m voting for Melting Pot, though Shabu-Shabu** is close. Sunday over to Tim & Kim’s house to help them pack for move to new house.

* When I was in Ireland the first time (1998) with Meghan, I fell in love with a song called Inisheer that Pader, the flautist in the local pubs in Doolin, played. When I came home I had to had to find a copy of the song (which is beautiful, haunting and sort-of mournful). Enter Cherish the Ladies, who had recorded a wonderful version of it. I still miss Pader, though. (Probably not surprising that Pader looked a little like Kevin Spacey….mmmmmm.)

** I’ve always said “SHA-bu SHA-bu” but the other day I heard a radio ad where they pronounced it “sha-BA sha-BU”. Perhaps Melting Pot will be easier. ;-)

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Jan 22

Am I a bad human…

…for reheating and drinking two-day-old coffee?

The interesting thing is that this was a pretty bitter, german-style coffee to start with, so (given the massive quantities of cream and Splenda I ususally add to coffee) I’m not actually sure I can tell the difference.

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Jan 20

The devil hat

Here’s a picture of the aforementioned devil hat:

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Jan 20

Three things

1) There are *two* commercials featuring the Tommy Tutone song “Jenny (867-5309)” (Milky Way and …erm… Cingular?)!!! I wonder if this will provoke another round of driving the phone companies nuts.

2) There’s a new toothbrush commercial (yes, last night I sat and watched the ABC Family Movie “Who Wants to Marry Ryan Banks?” and knitted) that features “Cross-action Rubber Stimulators.”

Oh my.

3) At Souper Salad last night one of the featured pasta things was “Screwdled Tuna”. Now I don’t know about you, but “screwdled” sounds like a bad thing to me:

“Yeah, honey, I got screwdled today — they passed me up for a promotion again!”

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Jan 19

Weekend Update

Busybusybusy, but really good.

Friday night Jeff and I saw Big Fish and had a very very late, snackish sort of a dinner at CPK. Big Fish was visually stunning (as are most of Tim Burton’s films, IMHO), and more touching than I expected to me. Kind of sad, but not in a boo-hoo way. Dinner was yummy (new salad at CPK: lettuce, blue cheese, walnuts and beets — mmmmm!) and reminded me how much I like Cosmopolitans (a lot).

Saturday I had lunch with Greta. I don’t really know how to describe it, except for this: anyone who knows me knows that I *hate* cold. Just not very interested in numbness and runny noses and shivering. Greta and I sat outside, with the temperature steadily dropping for three-and-a-half wonderful hours. The whole time I said Not One Word about the cold (indeed I didn’t even notice it for a while which, given how chilly it got, was pretty amazing in and of itself) because I didn’t want to interrupt the magic. Probably a lot more could be said there, but suffice it to say that it’s pretty incredible to meet someone who’s just like you want to be.

But wait! There’s more! Saturday night Meghan and I went to see Calendar Girls (really fun movie), followed by sushi (spiral ecstasy— yummmy!) (Ed. note: “ecstasy” is a really funny-looking word.)

Sunday afternoon I met my friend Ann for knitting lessons, part deux. She’s starting her first knit-in-the-round project (which will be her first DPN project too), a lovely little baby hat. I attempted to cast-on and knit the devil hat for Jacintha; however, upon examination of the results later that evening, it is clear that I’m not quite good enough yet to attempt seed stitch without my full concentration. Her hat’s turning out great, though I had to frog a bit on mine.

Sunday evening there was a baby shower for my friend Patryce (who was “Pat” when I met her in high school, so calling her anything other than that requires a conscious effort), wherein we crocheted squares for eventual inclusion in a baby blanket. Terribly clever idea. I had quite a comeuppance upon discovering that what I’ve been thinking was basic (aka “single”) crochet for the eons that I’ve been doing it is, in fact, chain crochet, and wasn’t at all what we were doing at the shower.n Uh-oh. Back to looking like a complete dolt while struggling to figure out which loops it is, again, that I’m supposed to pick up this time… Oh well. Now I know. And I’ll be finishing both my square and Amy’s (friend of Patryce who is also the sort-of-ex sister-in-law of my boss, David).

Then more knitting and home and *pizza* — regular old Papa John’s cheese pizza! I haven’t had “normal” (as opposed to Thai chicken a la CPK or Gorgonzola & Artichoke a la Loop) in *forever*. It was goooooood.

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Jan 19

Belated Thoughts on LOTR

So before LOTR came out on film I sat down with the book, determined to re-read LOTR, finish TT (which I never finished as a child, despite 2 attempts, which is as many as I’ll ever give any book, because Gollum & Frodo were just in the damn swamp for way too damn long) and read RTOK.

As an adult, I *really* couldn’t get into the books at all, ’cause the Hobbits bugged the bejeesus out of me. Silly, infantile, irresponsible Hobbits. Now when I was eight, it seemed entirely reasonable that they’d pretty much goof off all the time and not take the Voice of Authority (Gandalf) seriously. I, at that point, didn’t take the VoA seriously. ;-)

However, as an adult I found myself saying “Geez guys, Gandalf’s telling you some bad voodoo’s coming down the pike — listen to him, fer cryin’ out loud and get your fuzzy feet moving! He’s the uber-wizard!!! And, will you *please* just put the darn ring down already?!!”

I suppose this makes me old.

FWIW, I think part of this annoyance was that in the books it was made clear that the Hobbits about whom we were speaking were “all grown up,” which left them with no excuse for their flighty behaviour (yes, I know Hobbits are supposed to be flighty, but you get my point). In the movie, though, the Hobbits in question (Frodo, Sam, etc.) were cast with *young* looking actors, so it *seemed* more like they were teenagers/youths, in which case their frivolous behaviour could simply be attributed to not having fully grown up, which made it (to me as responsible adult-like person) much less annoying.

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Jan 19

Misc thoughts on Mad Cow Disease and when things are worth worrying about (to me)

sarah_ovenallSarah had posted in her journal that a friend of hers had asked if she was worried about getting Mad Cow disease from eating meat. Her response detailed the (reasonable) cautions she takes about eating beef, such as not eating ground beef from an unknown source.

Upon reading this I realized that I really haven’t worried about this at all, despite my proclivity for beefy goodness.

Here’s my reply, plus some additional thoughts on my worry-schema.

I’m all about the cheeseburgers!

I have thought about it, but the Mad Cow thing is, to me, one of those “it’s going to happen if it happens” things, and I could just as likely die from a e. coli outbreak because of sawdust in the air. Fatalistic attitude, I’m sure, but I only have so much “worry-room” in my head, and most of mine is used up on much more near-and-dear issues, like potential heartbreak and job security.

Besides which, the thing about dying is that you’re dead after…

In examining more closely my (rather off-the-cuff) response, I realized that my worry-schema seems to follow a few (relatively simple) rules:

  • If it’s out of my control completely, I tend not to worry about it. For example, even though I am a bit of a control freak, flying (or riding roller coasters) doesn’t worry me in the least, as there’s nothing (within reason, of course) that I can do to help the plane stay in the air (or the roller coaster car stay on the track); ergo, no need to “spend worry”. OTOH, driving (or, say rock-climbing) is an activity in which I do have control over my fate and, at least to a certain degree, my skill will determine the outcome. This I worry about.
  • I worry (dis-?)proportionally more about emotional trauma than physical trauma. Yes, the bank could go belly-up and lose all my money and yes, that would suck a whole lot, but comparing that to losing someone I care about: night and day .
  • I don’t tend to worry as much about things which are statistically insignificant. This may not sound like a big deal, but the number of people that worry about things like being attacked by killer bees (witness the success of the “Worst Case Scenario…” [warning: flash site] series of books) is astonishing. (Aside: I can’t wait for someone who knows me to point out the really statistically insignificant thing I obsess over and have forgotten about in my accounting)
  • I tend not to worry about Bad Things that I’ve already been through and survived with the (notable) exception of emotional trauma of the “loosing people variety” (ed note: I don’t know if I’ll ever deal particularly well with that flavor of trauma, but I have gotten a wee bit better over the years.) So, for example, I’ve had my wallet stolen and dealt with the consequences, so that’s not one I worry about a lot. (Now mind, I don’t do anything stooopid like leave my pocketbook laying around unguarded…)
  • My worry is proportional to the time proximity (this may seem to be a “duh”, but I include it for the sake of completeness). I really don’t worry about getting old all that much because that’s so far away. OTOH, there’ve been many times I’ve been managing projects quite calmly until right before they launch, at which point I start worrying about the silliest things.
  • I really don’t worry about dying (or things that may cause pre-mature dying) all that much. After all, as I said earlier, I’ll be *dead* after and will be (insert here whatever your view of the hereafter is, incl. “in dirt” if that’s it). Being wounded, OTOH, is worrying. IOW, if I were to worry about being hit by a truck, I’d be far more concerned with the possibility it could paralyze me than kill me.

For an interesting article on the factors that play into people’s concepts of risk, see Risk Communication: Facing Public Outrage

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Jan 16

Oddly bent out of shape

My latest knitting project, which I just finished last night, is the devil hat from the Stich-n-Bitch book. It’s a prototype for one I am going to make for my friend Jacintha, and I was pretty excited about it. Origially when I saw the pattern I thought about making one for another friend of mine, whom I thought it would be perfect for, ’cause it’s cute and sassy and seemed like the sort of thing she’d like.

So I took the hat to a big lunch today, mostly so Jacintha could try it on (which would allow me to adjust the patten for her). As I was talking about it, I discovered that the other friend (for whom I’d orginally thought of making one) doesn’t like it. (She didn’t say anything mean or anything, she just didn’t want one.) I was far more disappointed by this than I “should” have been.

I think it touched on one of my bigger hang-ups of late: the intersection between “craft” (I’m not even confident enough to call it “art”; somehow “craft” seems less presupposing) and identity. You see, I’m at the point where I sort of want to start selling some of the things I’m making (how do you like that hedge “sort of want” — ha!), and though I know (intellectually) I just need to “put it out there,” I’m terrified to do so. What if people don’t like it? What if no one wants to buy it?

Intellectually, of couse, I know that’s no reflection on me (or how well anyone likes me), but from a purely “gut” standpoint, it feels like it is. And heavens only knows, I don’t handle rejection particularly well.

So I hem and haw and put things on my craft page (but with no prices on them, and very little mention of the fact that I’d be interested in making more of them and getting paid for it) and make the occaisional “accidental” sale (someone sees something ans says “Ooh, I’d like to buy that, would you sell it?”), but never quite get around to doing what I need to do, which is to march into my favorite local boutique-y stores, samples and price list in hand and say “Hi, you should sell my most fabulous stuff.”

I’ve made (TINY) strides: getting things up on the site at all was a big deal, and I’ve finally gotten a rubber stamp with my logo and contact details so that I can make cute, hand-crafted hang-tags…I’ve even made some cute handcrafted hang tags. Which I’ve hung on the things I’ve made. Which are just waiting to be marched into a store…


I need injectable confidence.

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Jan 16

Scrabble score

Pholph’s Scrabble Generator

My Scrabble© Score is: 36.
What is your score? Get it here.

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