Tech Care Package!

http://www.teachparentstech.org/

Hieroglyphics

It dawned on me today that hieroglyphs may be nothing more than the result of boredom.

Take your average cave man.  He's in a cave with his fellow cavies.  They're holding a meeting to discuss which end of a carcass they should begin gutting once they've gotten one.  One dude off in the back has a sharp rock and next thing you know he's yawning, trying to keep his eyes open.  Doodling commences and a thousand years later we're sitting here trying to figure out why we can't figure it out.

How do you explain the glyphs on the sides of tall rocks?  Managerial offsite with lunch provided!

~w

Kitty was behind me

Kitty was just sitting at my feet sounding pitiful.  "Owh.  Owh.  Owhhk.  Owhh."  [the sound shifts from my left to behind me] "Owhh.  Owh.  Owhhhhk.  Ow.  Owh."  [sound shifts slightly to right]  "Ow.  Wh.  Hh."  She seems to have given up for now.

Fushigi

https://www.fushigiball.com/ - bad site design.

Be careful on the website if you're ordering any of these.  Say "no" to all the additional questions they ask (unless you're sure).  You will NOT be able to modify the quantities in your cart before checkout.  As soon as the questions are complete, the order is placed.  I find this to be bad juju, especially since I figured this was a completely separate order (which I wanted, but to a separate address), and have spent roughly 10-15 minutes on hold waiting for someone to talk to about it.

I figured since I was patiently waiting, I'd blog about this experience, and post everywhere I can find something about fushigi, just as a forewarning.  But since I wrote the above paragraph, someone came on the line and politely informed me that my order won't download into the computer until tomorrow and I should call back before 9am pst.

I am quite frustrated at the moment so will hold back on any really snide comments on web developers who are either morons or assholes depending on how the company intended their site to look, but the company might want to know that had they refrained from inserting shitty tactics into their site, I would have been a customer twice without having to bother them and now not only do they get extra work but so does their customer.  This means I get frustrated, which turns into anger, which turns into bad PR for them.

BS is getting less and less tolerable as I get older.

~nv

I HATE IPHOTO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

iPhoto is officially a fucked up mess in my book now.

They effed up the way you send photos to people.  Now it's geared towards old crotchety people who don't know how to read numbers.  (Sorry, but it's true in most cases of older folks, with few exceptions.)  You know how you could send photos and include the descriptions, the photo names, etc?  Well, now you CAN'T.  They made these weird, memory-intensive, costly templates to house the photos instead, so the names and such are either gone or hidden so well the typically lay person will never ever ever find them in a million years, making this poor techie's life even more miserable.

It used to be that when I emailed my mother-in-law or whomever some pictures, she could write back and go, "Oh, yeah, I like number 7631.  Can I have that full size?"  Now she's gonna get a stupid-looking bunch of pictures all nicely formatted into a big stupid sheet with no identification other than what the template permits me to write.  Well, no, she's not, actually, because I'm going to upload my pictures into iWeb and send her a link.  iWeb, I can still control whether the numbers appear or not.  I think...

Yep, I can...

Stupid developers.  I am so tired of the need to "improve" things.  Egads.

~nv

Communication

The other night my cousin told me what my mother's computer issue was.  I agreed and mentioned something along the lines of having ruled out the hard drive earlier in the day.  She replied to that with anecdotal evidence that hard drives don't sound like that.  I know hard drives CAN sound like a fan's ball bearing when they're on their way out, but whatever.  She's not as experienced and didn't realize there are different sounds to a dying hard drive.  Her statement was like a fallacy; my hard drive died and sounded different, therefore all dying hard drives sound like mine did.  A child's statement - like saying, "Because I'm white, everyone must be white."  Then you see someone from India or Africa and go, "Whoa..."

Anywho, the experiences I've had with CAPD have taught me many things, one of which is "don't go flying off the handle at every little annoyance."  I've noticed this to be a handy thing to remember in relationships, and especially in my relationship with Dale, because we both have the same problem with understanding people at times and replying "appropriately."  So, I try to hold back reacting until I have had a chance to think about things more rationally, whenever I feel slighted somehow.  This even carries over into non-communication issues, like two days ago, when I brought him lunch at work.  I wanted to surprise him, so I drove down without calling first.  Both doors were locked.  I couldn't get in and had to call anyway.  He seemed almost annoyed that I called, but I know that sound - it's not quite annoyance, but more like, "Wait, you never call me at work, and I'm at work, why are you calling me, and why are you saying you're outside with lunch?  You're throwing me through a loop here 'cause you never bring me lunch anymore since you work days now.  I've been put on the spot and cannot think."  So I said, "Oh, you have lunch, sorry.  I'll go home."  "Do you want me to come out?" I heard him hesitantly ask.  "No, no, don't worry about it.  I'll just head home."  So I left.  I was upset on the way home, letting my imagination run away with itself... work is more important than me, just because he's already got lunch he doesn't wanna see me...  But ultimately, I realized I wasn't upset with him nor did I have reason to be.  I was really upset with the fact that my plans to surprise him had failed.  Instead, I spent 40 minutes driving for no reason other than to feel completely stupid.  THAT was what I was upset about.  So I reasoned it out further.  "Okay, Self," I thought.  "Next time, call first.  It's still spontaneous but then he has a chance to react and you don't waste time.  You don't have to just pop in to surprise him.  Besides, giving him a 20 minute heads up might even be nicer for him, so he can mentally prepare for the visit and also look forward to it.  You know how YOU feel when put on the spot like that.  Why would you want to do that to someone else?  It's your own fault your plans failed."

So, I brought myself out of my misery and enjoyed the rest of the day.  Unfortunately, what I didn't know until later is that Dale felt bad all afternoon because he didn't even come out to see me after I went through all that.  We discussed this and I assured him as to why I wasn't upset and why he shouldn't feel bad.

Funny what an act of spontaneity and lack of forethought can do, huh?  This is why open communication is so important in a relationship, and why it's so critical to listen and care about the other person.  Most of our misunderstandings, in fact, arise when one of us is trying to be helpful to the other but doesn't explain that.  We're so independent that we miss it at first and think something weird is going on.  Reminds me of this show I saw once where a guy was taking dance lessons to surprise his wife at their anniversary... he wanted to take her to dinner and ask her to dance, which she had always wished he would do.  She, however, noticed his weird excuses for "working late" and began suspecting him of having an affair.  She ended up being in a really bad mood on their anniversary, but he asked her to dance anyway.  She asked, "Wait, you don't dance, how did you learn?" to which he explained all the long nights "at work."  Then of course she felt like a crud and began to cry.  I forget what show that was but it's another example of how secrets can hurt, even when they're well-intentioned ones.

That's all for now.

~nv

Lady

One day when I was a little girl, I was eating breakfast with Mum.  As I slurped my cereal, I began to let out the longest fart of anyone, anywhere.  I stopped slurping and began to laugh as my mother looked on, first with an expression of horror, then disgust, then sheer disbelief.  My laughs punctuated the farts, changing them from the reverberating making-you-bounce-on-your-chair kind to the gutteral type caused by intermittent crack-sealing.  Eventually it morphed into a long and winding squeak, more reverbs, some sliding sighs, and more squeals.  Meanwhile, my mother starts holding in her own laughter, eyes dancing with amusement mixed with utter horror.

I finished with one finalizing poot, and Mum and I sit there for a second before she finally says, "You know, when I named you, I had envisioned this fine, respectable young lady with her hair swept up and dainty pearls about her neck.  And now look at you!!  YOU'RE FARTING AT THE BREAKFAST TABLE!!!"  We both began to laugh at that and I've never forgotten it.  It is one of my fonder memories of my youth; Mum acting disgusted with me, but laughing anyway.

Well, I'm still no lady, but I'm a little bit closer.  This morning I made muffins and lemon squares for later tonight.  Tonight, you see, Dale and I are hosting "tea."  A couple friends are coming over and we're all going to squish into this little "tea room" I made upstairs.  I figure we'll pile into a heap up there and talk about farts whilst having tea and sweets on my heavy piano plates.

I'll make sure my little finger sticks straight out while I sip and that my hair's swept back into a pile on my head.  I don't have any pearls, though.

~nv

Am I British?

I was writing to my mother this morning and typed in the word "counselling."  Gmail immediately underlined it in red.  I re-typed, too lazy to carefully read whether I mistyped, and it came up again.  WTF, I thought.  I know this is right!!  So I looked it up.

Dictionary.com, at least, has the spelling I used.  However, it mentions that the double L is primarily British.

There's a guy at work that had suggested I should just move to Britain.  I was like, "Why?!" and he laughed and said, "about, scones, clotted cream, tea, and your various spellings of words."  A few days later I stumbled across mild frustration and jokingly said, "Oh, bloody 'ell" to which he laughed a bit more. The thing is, though, it felt quite natural to say even though it's not a common thing for me TO say.

I'm curious, now, to know if "manoeuvre" is also British.  I should go look that up, because I remember learning that word in school and thinking it didn't look right as "maneuver" (I think that's the spelling I learned).  I soon found "manoeuvre" and that somehow made so much more sense to me.  I cannot explain why, but it does.  Something about the "oe" combination, and the "re" at the end, makes it more proper somehow.  Oh!  Theatre is another one that tends to flow out of my fingertips more easily than "theater," which takes more concentration.

Not sure where all the British fancies come from, I mean, my mum's family is from a variety of places - England, Ireland, Scotland - so maybe they all use these things and I just don't remember them.  The few things that others would comment on when we'd moved was supposed to be "a Down East thing."  You know, "Don't upset the apple cart."  Once while I was in school, I got "What does 'puffed up with pride' mean?"  I remember glancing over at the teacher, who seemed, herself, slightly perplexed at my use of it on the board.  She knew what it meant, though, and saved me by explaining it to the other students, some of which made comments about "odd" or "weird" and "where did she ever hear that from."  Probably Mum, that's where.  Admittedly, I don't recall ever reading it or hearing it elsewhere.  Maybe it's another "Down East" thing.

Incidentally, "Mum" is a term my mother coined in our family... I believe her mother was "Mammy."  I am aware that it sounds British but it's really not, she just wanted to be called something different than her own mother had been, is all.  I personally like it better than "Mom" which has a long, drawn-out, whiny sound to it.  "Mum" is short and to the point, and kinda cute, especially to look at.  Of course, I tend to call her "Ma" to her face.  Bah, hah, hah!

Let's see... oh, another thing I found out is considered British is eating "continental style."  This is when you hold the fork in your left hand and the knife in your right.  I've done that on and off for a long time, naturally, and find it more efficient than doing everything right-handed and switching when you need to cut something.  I've always been somewhat ambidextrous, though, so I didn't think anything of it until I found out it's actually a style of eating.

Whoa!!  There's a whole site on English stuff!!  Check this out!! http://projectbritain.com/americanspelling.html

Jewellery is another one.  I have "misspelt" that so many times, and always thought, dangit, I always get that wrong!  But it turns out I'm right!!  (If I were in England.)  Every time I type that, I get underlines and eventually figure out it's "jewelry."  Which I have to think about every time.  Now, I cannot explain why "jewellery" feels right to my fingers, but it does, and I have a heck of a time getting that word to come out as "jewelry."  From a phonetics standpoint, the latter looks right... I dunno.  Somewhere I read it the way I want to spell it and it looks more normal to me despite it looking atrocious from a phonetics point-of-view.

I think I'll continue down through the list I just found.

realise - yep

cheque - no, not really.  I'm aware it's OK but usually spell it "check."  I like the look of "cheque," though.

kilometre - yep.

theatre - yep.

cosy - no, and this looks very wrong.  It's cozy.  It's funky, though, because "rosy" is rosy, not rozy.

favourite - all the time.

colour - all the time.

humour - a lot of the time.  I suspect I've spelt this both ways.  The funny thing is that gmail isn't underlining that one, nor "cosy."

dialogue - It looks right.  I'm not sure who uses "dialog" though, other than for maybe "dialog boxes."  I think that's the only place I've ever seen the "American" spelling.

tyre - I generally do not use this one.  Dale has, though, but usually when discussing Hakkapeliitta tyres. Whups.  I mean "tires!"

the "little girl's room" is not just English.  I have seen this used a lot in America.

couch is American, too!

So are several other household things.

There are a lot of these... some I recognise, some I do not... I wonder if recognise is in there.  Nope.  But it's primarily British at dictionary.com.  Sigh.

Aight, off to make more food.  :)

~w

Tea Room

So, Dale, Amy, and I visited a placed called Dobra Tea.  It's a lovely little tea shop with a couple little "rooms" for people to drink tea in and chit chat.  I liked the experience and decided I would try to duplicate it in some form or another.

Welcome to my little tea room.  It "opened" last night despite not being fully completed.  I just put in a couple old couch cushions I've been toting around with me for years, rearranged my playpen, and now there's a purple and white wall separating a third of the room from the rest.  A table flanks the open end so there's a tiny little spot to get into the cushioned area.  It's JUST big enough for three people to sit comfortably.  (Small people, mind you.)  I think I can squeeze in four but it'll be pushing it.  Still, for a shorter time than the three of us were in there last night, I think it'll be OK.

Amy stopped in last night and the three of us enjoyed our various beverages and snacks and generally just had a good time.  Dale ended up inventing a game of throwing our socks at each other over the "wall" of the thing, so he stayed barricaded in the tea room while we ventured out to the other side of the wall to bombard him with socks.  It was fun and helped to warm the room more.  Then it got late and I began to fall asleep on the floor and Amy went home.

Fun, fun, fun evening, and the nausea that has plagued me for two days has finally subsided.  I'm glad because I was getting _very_ annoyed by it... mostly because I hate nausea but also because I couldn't eat without feeling worse, and you know how I feel about eating!!

This morning I've baked some goodies for tonight's venture and am about to work on more.  :D

~nv

tea

I just realized that my tastes in tea have been changing.  Used to love Earl Grey, and then it kept oscillating between Ceylons and Keemuns and Kukichas, and now I'm into Oolongs.

My favourite at the moment is Da Hong Pao, which is an oolong from the Wuyi region of China.  I read yesterday that the first infusion is considered the worst and it's the third and fourth that are best.  I'm like, BS! but this morning had my third infusion of this wonderful tea and just brewed it longer to gain more flavour.  You know, it /is/ a bit better than it was before.  Smoother, and a bit... more oolongish, but with something else at the back of my throat, like the flavour is going up through my sinuses before I really get to taste it.  It's weird and I like it.  I had read also that one idea is to take sips of the tea as it is brewing - every 30 seconds - and note the differences as it brews.  Teas "open up" certain flavours at different stages of the brew.  I suppose it makes sense... some people like al dente pasta, others don't mind it smooshy.  I personally don't want it crunchy...  I also love Osmanthus Oolong, which is a blend I discovered at VT Liberty.

My sorta-current likes:  Most non-green oolongs, smokey blacks, earl grey, a few herbals like blood orange and dandelion leaf, kukicha, and the occasional green (not many I like but Dragonwell seems OK).  I also like this chai that Mary found for me.  Not all chais are created equal.  Before now I had only enjoyed Pacific Chai and now I don't really like that... but the chai she found for me is absolutely awesome with no milk or sugar whatsoever.  Perfectly refreshing, awesome blend!!

Dislikes (which seem to linger):  Most greens.  I also think whites are to me as most tea is to Dale:  tasteless leaf water.  I also hate pu-erh.  OMG it's horrendous.  The dude at VT Liberty told me that pu-erh is not supposed to taste like fishy sawdust but everything I've read about it says that those who hate it says it tastes exactly like fishy sawdust or moldy earth.  It's gross.  A friend of Dale's at work sent him home with a little container of various wrapped teas, little cakes, and I suspected they were pu-erh but thanked her and took them home, eager to find out.  I was sooooo right.  I still have them, but I know I will never, ever dare to drink them again.  Cringe.

DALE happens to love Rooibos.  It's an herbal.  He will tolerate jasmine-infused oolong tea, especially at a restaurant.  He'll also drink a combo of that with rooibos.  I don't know what it is about that stuff.  I think it's kinda weird and I'm not overly fond of the stuff.  I could probably drink it if someone served it without giving me a choice in the matter, but I never brew it for myself.

Lisa, my rat, apparently dislikes Dragonwell.  She's quite prone to tumours, and this morning it dawned on me that perhaps she could benefit from the greens I hate.  So I made her some Dragonwell, which actually, I like to some extent.  She passed by it with two inches to spare, obviously avoiding it like the plague.  The wanted my Geneva cookie, instead.  Then she asks, "What's in YOUR cup?"  Thankfully, she didn't poke her nose too far in when I let her sniff my blessed Da Hong Pao.  She sniffed, then looked at me like, "Why do you drink that stuff?"  She is definitely not Gracie.  Gracie loved my teas.  Then again, I never had Da Hong Pao when she was around.  Maybe she wouldn't have loved that one. I should see if Lisa likes Earl Grey.

Addendum:  Lisa just got bored and is now drinking the Dragonwell!!  At least, a few licks.  Hmmm... there might yet be hope...  Oh well, off to get ready for an outing with Dale and Amy.  We're headed out to find a tea shop.  I'm going to get some more Da Hong Pao while we're up there, and will also try something new.  We hope to find a seat in the back.  :D

~w

Snow Leopard

If I had known about this ONE FEATURE, I might have upgraded just a bit sooner from Leopard to Snow Leopard.

When you take a screen shot, it does not save it as "Picture 1.png" or "Picture 2.png" any more.  Oh, no. It finally makes SENSE!!!

Here is the new format:

Screen shot 2010-11-13 at 8.11.24 AM.png

Is that cool or what?  Now when you dump a bunch of fresh screenshots, never renamed, into the pictures folder, you don't end up having to rename them (unless you want to).  Why someone hadn't done this sooner is beyond me.  But the fact they did is BEAUTEOUS!!

The other thing I would have liked to see, but which has been remedied by a handy program called SizeUp, is the non-snappage seen in Windows 7.  SizeUp is a small program that runs in the background, however, which allows the same keystrokes.  It has a sibling that does it via mouse, like 7 also does.  I prefer keyboard so I purchased this one instead.

I think the creator is going to get a kudos email from me soon.  It's exactly what I had been hoping for.

Anywho, my current ramblings.  Oh!!  And our friend Amy has created a new blog:  http://picturewordbook.blogspot.com/?spref=fb

I like her writing.  She had told me that she writes sometimes, but she never produced anything for me to read (of hers).  It's nice to finally see some of it outside the usual business-oriented places.

~w

POEM: EMPTY WINDOW

EMPTY WINDOW
2010103101 - c2010 WLC

Another empty window
I want to fill it up with glee
Shiny surface gleaming
Like you have done for me

Sometimes I'm wrought with worry
But it must be clear to see
Despite a past of obstacles
I am with you happily

The past is nothing more than that
The future isn't ours to view
But in the present, where we are,
Is this gift of you

So I reminisce
Forget to live
With he who has
So much to give

Where do I go when I'm not here
Identifying with my words
Spelling out my history
Fingers singing like the birds

Lost within my memories
Looking forward to my past
So that I can live it over
Just in case it doesn't last

Yet still an empty window
I never have that much to give
I feel an endless pool of wonder
For your staying here to live

Wrought with worry, so afraid
It isn't very clear to see
Despite a past of disappointment
I'm still with you happily

Lost within my memories
Looking forward to my past
So that I can live it over
Just in case it doesn't last

Finally found my style

This is my ideal wardrobe.  This stuff has been tried and tested and I've finally figured out it's what I love.  Very specific, mind you.  I'm excited, though, because at least now I have an idea as to what I'm looking for!!

Shirts:  Rayon.  Sleeveless.  Button-up.  Solid-colour, if anything otherwise, then the most would be subtle stitching but no patterns.  Colours - dark stuff, like black, brown, deep reds, deep purples, dark greens.  A little below the waist for length.  I have searched high and low for these sorts of shirts and haven't yet found much in the way of what I like.

Pants (summer):  Gaucho.  That's what they're called!!  Gaucho!!  Basically capris with extra wide legs.  They look like a skirt when worn because the material is so loose and draping.  Rayon, patterned or not, any colour that would go with the usual colour scheme.  Cotton might work, too.  I don't see these very often.  One pair was at http://www.thelittlebazaar.com/category/Clothing/.

Pants (hiking or more all-purpose):  Zip-off pants with lots of pockets.  Awesome.  Solid colours, browns, greens, black.  I've seen this in heavy cotton and nylon ripstop.  Both are awesome.  I generally have found these at LLBean and other outdoorsy stores.

Pants (winter):  Still figuring this out.  The zip-offs would work OK if in heavy cotton.  I tend towards LLBean for now.

Jackets:  Dark/medium red or dark green denim or canvas, breast pockets, collared, button-up, obvious stitching a plus.  Would also go for a tan of sorts, or any shade of brown.  Jackets are good for two reasons.  First, when it gets cold, they keep me warm and I can still wear my sleeveless shirts.  Second, they offer pockets when I'm wearing skirts.  Finally, they tend to look good on me.  LLBean sometimes has them, as does Eddie Bauer, Orvis, and other such places.  I think Old Navy has them sometimes, too.  They seem expensive to me, but jackets usually are.  (Grr.)

Skirts:  Rayon or cotton.  Long (ankle-length, preferably).  Patterned or solid.  Lots of material.  I've seen a couple of things these are called:  Batik, swirly skirts, Hippie, Gypsy, Crinkle.  They're awesome and I finally found a huge selection of them at reasonable prices:  http://www.thelittlebazaar.com/category/Clothing/

This one also has a few:  http://www.hippieshop.com/cgi-bin/gold/category/4000WS

Sweaters:  I don't typically do sweaters, but the few I wear are zip-ups in dark colours that are super soft to the touch.  I _hate_ wool.  It's never "not itchy."  Ever.  Chenille is very nice.  Generally I don't do anything polyester due to the static factor.  Whatever chenille is, it doesn't seem to cause static all the much.  :D

Shoes:  I know my style on this one, always have.  Black booties with a separate heel that isn't too high, the top of the booties fold down about a half-inch.  The problem is that shoes and my feet hate each other.  It has become impossible to find shoes my feet love.  Except for the five-finger ones, but those are for hiking and short-term use only.  Sigh.

Socks:  Black calf-high tube socks.  Became exceedingly difficult to find so I switched to white calf-high tube socks.  Gah!  I also wear colourful thin ones these days.  My favourite shoppe for the latter is hotsox.com.  Not warm in winter, though.  LOL

Hats:  No.

~w

pledge of allegiance

Ok, so I made a faux pas or something of the sort.

I was visiting some friends tonight and we somehow got on the subject of removing religion from school, etc. I mentioned how the Pledge of Allegiance oughta be removed as well if they need to go doing that. I was very decidedly met with disagreement. Very strong disagreement. "You don't deserve to be a citizen if you don't want to say it," I was told.

Why?

Here are my arguments:
1. People GENERALLY are told to say it as little kids. Little kids do not understand its implications, so at that time, it is either meaningless, brainwashing, and/or merely teaching what the words are so they can say it and MEAN it down the road.

2. A pledge should be honoured as such, and thus not require repeating. Thus repeating the Pledge over and over and over every day at school, at ball games, et al, cheapens the heartfelt meaning behind it and makes pledging less powerful and less serious.

3. It can be spoken with no meaning. Simply saying the words means that you are agreeing with/trying to fit in with/obeying/fearing/deceiving your peers.

4. Justice is subject to major changes in the country's standards. So, by pledging that you want justice for all, you are stating that whatever the laws are at the time, even if it is that whites who kill blacks cannot be imprisoned but that blacks who kill whites can be, then you are OK with that. That would be justice at that time. Fifty years later, the law could flip to the reverse, and you would need to be OK with that, too. I personally would prefer to call everyone equal, which is what /I/ was taught this country is about. Of course we know it is not, but I would dare to hope we will one day get there. I am an idealist, unfortunately for me. But, the whole "justice" word is more a question of symantics.

5. Under God. Do atheists recite the Pledge? What about religious folk who cannot pledge allegiance to anyone but their own God? What about idolatry? This addition is good in theory, but really does not work in today's world. I also read somewhere that the addition was made in respect to some speech which more correctly meant "God willing," which means it is not even worded right.

6. I have always had, and still have, a problem with "the flag." Why not just "I pledge allegiance to the usa?" Why the flag? It is a symbol, but so what? Are they trying to get us to say we will not burn the flag or otherwise be disrespectful to it? I do not understand this particular portion. Flags can change... ours has changed several times, with the addition of states, for instance. What if it changes? Is "the flag" always the current one? Does it include every flag the U.S. has used? I am thoroughly confused. Why would we care about a flag, anyway? Isn't it more important to worry about our country than a piece of material?

Why, in a democracy... and it is a democracy, is it not? Why, then, do some people feel I am unpatriotic, or worse, not worth my own American-born citizenzhip, simply for questioning the Pledge and disagreeing with saying it in school? To those people, I say you are close-minded people who simply accept what you are told and you might as well go live in a country with a monarch. No questions allowed, blindly follow your leaders and forget about what America is supposed to really mean. Don't tell ME how wonderfully free our country is if you refuse to further define what you mean by "free."

From my understanding, kids are not to be forced to say the Pledge, for many of the same reasons. This extended to when I was in school but I distinctly recall being scolded for questioning it in fifth or sixth grade when I finally began to understand some of the implications. I feel this left a rather long-lasting effect on me (ya think?) and I do not want to have this same impression of "you are free, but only if you agree with me and follow these rules and say these words even if you have no idea what they mean" to be bestowed on other children. We do not want other countries teaching their kids crap like this, so why should we teach ours the same thing? Let them mean it!

GOD BLESS AMERICA!

-w

Rant spawned by Angry Birds discussions

Angry Birds, an app that I know primarily through Dale's iPhone, has had a lot of talk lately.  Apparently Microsoft, in its quest to market its new phone, erroneously indicated that Angry Birds would be available on the new phone.  Whups.  The game's peoples have tweeted about this and said nope, no such plans right now, but nothing against MS.  I read quite a number of  comments which consequently bash Microsoft.

This led me to the following rant.  Personally speaking, from the point of view of a few issues I've had somewhat recently, it's quite annoying to have meaningless errors or a white screen of death as an add-in crashes Outlook.  First, I think add-ins are evil and no one should make them in the first place.  They ruin perfectly good, working software.  Second, no Office product should allow these add-ins to take over.  If they're allowed at all, then have some sort of extra programming that will ignore the add-in if it tries to do something evil to the program's functionality.  Then people could be more appropriately angry at the add-in developer instead of the the program's developer, because the add-in would simply cease to function. Instead, the app crashes, restarts, then pleasantly asks if you'd like to disable the offending add-in.  Disable?  No!  I want it to get temporarily shut down while the problem is occurring, then permitted to be enabled once it stops being an ass!!  Have a little menu under "Help" that has a list of add-ins that are getting disabled so you can go up there and see what's going on if you want, not be forced to deal or else cope with constant app restarts.  Zheezh.  This doesn't hold to just Microsoft.  I recently witnessed something similar with a rather expensive Autocad product.  Although, in this case, the app still worked, at least.  It's just the cryptic error that was ticking me off.

Now, all that said, there are Windows 7 features that are totally slick.  The snapping, the minimizing, the keyboard control that is BUILT IN.  Windows 7 is the flagship now.  Leopard is still nice, but for me, it's still not quite as intuitive because, well, I'm used to Windows.  Prefer it for my Office experience, most definitely.  Each has their place, though, as I've often said:  When I'm using Photoshop, I can't imagine using it on a pc again.  I cannot live without iPhoto, iTunes, iWeb.  Egads.  GarageBand may be useless most days but for those times when I get the musically creative itch, there it is, waiting for me, a free app WITH THE OS!!  You cannot, with any honesty, say that a Mac is not worth the money. You can only say it does not meet your needs (if it doesn't).  Which in all truth, it really might not.  Nothing wrong with that.

I would love to have a dedicated Linux box in the house, but I consider Linux to be an offshoot of Unix, an open-source mess with good (albeit sometimes snobbish) intentions.  I suppose I have become a sort of narcissistic diplomat when it comes to operating systems, in that I feel everyone should get off their high horse and acknowledge that not everyone has to like one thing, but everyone should agree that we don't all have to agree.  How's that for hypocrisy?  Or is that an oxymoron?  I'm not sure, but it's kinda funny.  I've always entangled myself in such things... don't listen to anyone.  Now listen to me.  Yeah, thanks, self.  That makes sense.

Anywho, if you like tinkering, Linux is great.  If you like developing, you can really chase any of the Big Three.  If you like creating or little fuss, go get a Mac.  And if you're used to Windows and like it, go out and get it.  I don't give a rat's petoobies.  I try to recommend based on what you need and can afford!

~w

Erik's fault

http://cgi.ebay.com/Tomica-Matchbox-11-Subaru-Impreza-WRX-STI-Diecast-Car-/220676508263?pt=Diecast_Vehicles&hash=item3361584a67#ht_2783wt_762

it's Erik's fault

http://toys.shop.ebay.com/Diecast-Toy-Vehicles-/222/i.html?_nkw=subaru+wrx&_catref=1&_fln=1&_sac=1&_trksid=p3286.c0.m282

Review of recent events

Iron Pour - awesome.  Pictures to be posted at mount9.com tonight.

Garden - awesome.  We grew a few cantaloupes that were really good.  We also got some fine tomatoes a-brewing.  In fact, I'm eating a cuke-mater sammich right now, using some tomato and cucumber grown in our own garden.  

Orchard - awesome.  Got gala apples, other apples, plums, sparkling mead, cherry bark syrup (been meaning to try that), cider, cider donuts, cider syrup, oh, and golden raspberries.  Yes, golden!!  Oh yeah, and normal raspberries, the now-boring red ones.  The golden ones are cool.  And sweet...

Waterfall - very very nice.  Peaceful.

Visiting - always nice.  Sense of belonging, family, support, happiness.  And we got Mountain Dew Throwback.  And I got to give Dale's mum some scones I made.  :)

Torchlight - up to level 32.  Go, me!

The Guild - where the heck is episode 11?  Is there one?  Must watch more...

Server - you're noisy and slow.  What up wid dat?

Dale - happy sigh...

~w

Review: You Never Listen To me

Review:  You Never Listen To Me

Note:  The imagery I describe below is my own interpretation.  It is not intended to reflect anything in the singer's or songwriter's life - personally, I'm guessing the song is about a relationship after childhood, or about something the songwriter saw in life.

It has been ages since I have heard this.  At one time, it had a very negative connotation to it for me, because it described how I felt about my relationship with my mother.  Now, those things have been resolved... or at least, I moved out, and we've since grown both apart and together in a more healthy, meaningful way.

The song starts out with a definite note of seething, cautionary anger.  It sounds dangerous, the only word I can use to describe it with any accuracy.  As if someone is standing there in its midst, about to explode.  It brings forth images of a dark alleyway, shadows cast upon the walls from a streetlight shining in at an angle.  The shadows move, and within the alley is a frightened teenager, hiding within a gang, the only place this person feels he belongs.  Then the song opens up to tell the tale.

He is off alone in this alley, with the shadows moving off on one end, him in the shadows.  He thinks back to his parents, who would not grant him any attention.  His inner voice is hurt and angry.  The guitar nods its agreement.  He left home and joined this gang so that they would miss him, but of course they don't, and he's even angrier.  They must be blind; they haven't noticed him gone, wasting their precious time!  How could they not notice?  Little splatters of a stringed instrument tangle themselves in the melody.  Synths weave slowly through the tale, lending an eerie, angry tone, phantasmal in its vague, hazy appearance.  An electric bass becomes his army of one, marching to the sound of the battle's heat.

All he wants is for someone to listen to him.  Ghostly voices murmur this dissent in the background.  The guitar echoes his pain.  Synthesizers thread through his hideaway, building walls to keep out the damp, musky mold that grows on the trash in the alley.  He shivers with the cold as he yells out, "I can't go on, knowing you're never a part of me."  The ghosts continue to haunt him in the background.  They won't leave him alone.  He's one with the gang now.  He cannot leave and keep what little remains of his sad, bitter life.  His hopes refused to be dashed, but he does not know how to get out, to find happiness.

[Note:  I LOVE the way he pronounces some of these words, "I can't go on" for instance... omg, it's almost British even!]

As he recedes behind a scrabble of trash cans, his army of one marches on down the alleyway, lending cover to his scrawny frame.  He falls asleep in the noise of the battle.

~whitney

One Good Woman review... again, I'm sure.

This is old news, but I'm feeling energetic today and in a writing mood, which is rare these days.

Today I got up, made french toast, bacon, tea, and scones; washed dishes, put things away, mailed a letter (yes, I still use paper sometimes, in fact, I use a dipping pen and parchment paper, too) and then helped my husband cut up some yellow string beans from our garden for late freezing.

Then I said, "You mind if I listen to Peter Cetera for a while?" to which my husband stammers for a moment and goes, "Uh, sure, I'm going outside anyway."  (I knew he wasn't FOND of Peter's music, but I had no idea he thought being outside was preferable to ignoring it.)  I'm like, cool, and open iTunes to play the first song that catches my attention:  On The Line.  It seems like _forever_ since I played something so good.  I mean, Metallica, Lady Gaga, Richard Marx, they're all good, but... there's something insanely wonderful about returning to one's deepseated roots when it comes to familiar, intimately-known music.

I sit down to the bliss, ignoring the dishwasher sounds, and suddenly hear this horrible clash.  My husband thought it would be "funny" to play Metallica in the background, and cranked his speakers to override my music.

I put "funny" in quotes because he really was trying to be funny, but I didn't think it was.  I have rather strong feelings about music which is why I don't listen to much of it at home anymore.  He's always watching TV, playing podcasts, or listening to his own music, and I simply cannot enjoy mine with the background noise.  So when I ask for some music time, I expect to thoroughly enjoy it, and this was another example of why I cannot.  I was not amused.

He quickly realized this, shut down Metallica, and crept back into his corner of a den while I whisked myself back to musical bliss.  He did go outside, and came back in, so I put on my headphones.  Loud.  OMG.  Built-in iMac speakers are decent, but nothing like my Logitech usb headphones.  I forget what real music sounds like until days like today.  Even my truck doesn't do this stuff justice.

So, here's the current song that has my attention:  One Good Woman.  I had a strong inclination to play keyboard when this came on, but then this writing bug hit me.  That's what's wrong with me these days.  I have no inspiration to write with.  I have to be energized.  I have to have this growly, yet refined, airy voice to lend emotion to my words.  Without this, my words are a mere echo of things I see, no life, no real merit.

The images of the metronome still tick in my head from the music video for this song.  I think back to all the wonderful posting I used to do here, all the awesome posts I'd read, the plethora of mutual inspiration and inside jokes and wonderful tips on where to find anything Peter-related.  What changed?  What changed??

Besides a lot of comings and goings, my life has changed.  Mostly for the better, and it would be even better if I made more time for music.  I started driving, got married, got a new job, bought a house, became an aunt, caught up with old friends, found family, etc etc etc... the list goes on.  I have more hobbies and things to do than a writer should have, and yet I have them, and I'm happy.  Insanely happy.  I've watched friends having babies, did some babysitting for them, and take scads of pictures which is my only real creative outlet these days other than the occasional penned letter.

Remember the Birthday Queen, Candice, who became a friend of mine?  Remember the reviews of Peter's music, and the exchanges of tapes and CDs back when information was still hard to find on the internet?  Remember the days before Peter actually had a website?  Heck, remember the days before Yahoo Groups, back when we were all on the Cetera List?  I do.  I know many people here remember the days before the Cetera List, too.  I remember the days when I was in high school, researching old magazines at the library for clips of Peter's life, musical or otherwise.  Anything I could find.

Mom used to tell me I'd only listen to Peter when I was depressed.  I listened to him all the time!  I danced to work to his tunes.  I swirled and turned, and jumped in the air to the horns on Once In A Lifetime.  It was exhilarating.  I was in great shape.  I felt happy.  "He" brought me feeling, "he" brought me fire.  I don't mean Peter, although it was his music that got me to that state of being where I could feel so vamped up enough to find that inspiring force, that soft, gentle, supportive hand.  "He" was God, or whatever that powerful force is that I associate with Him.  (Anyone who doesn't believe in God, just disregard this portion, there is no offense intended.)

So there I was, head hanging back, lightly sweating, breathing hard, tingling from toe to spine, right up my back into the top of my head, warmth and shivers emanating through my shoulders, my ribcage, my heart.  My feet felt alive.  My knees felt weak (seriously, they were physically weak, bad knees run in my family, but I didn't care - it made them stronger, I thought).

I had rhythm.  I had soul.  Now, I have trouble with one foot.  I stay away from music, lest I get whisked away into its frenzy, hurting myself further.  Part of me thinks that's BS, that perhaps I got hurt by NOT dancing, by driving, instead.  Did I?  Is it because I'm in my thirties now?  Is it because of that time I went hiking and twisted my ankle a little in the slushy slippery snow?  I'll never know, for sure, what caused it.  But I do know that dancing in orthotics is very, very, wrong, in so many ways.  It exacerbates the problem, for one, slamming my sensitive little foot onto the hard arch support, feeling it slide down and slamming my little toe onto the other side.  No, no, no.  I dance barefoot, now.  Lost are the days of dancing down the street on hard pavement, or through the grass on the way home from work.  I drive to work now, too far to walk without getting up super early.  I dance barefoot in the grass when it's raining each summer.  Winter comes and I hide my foot in anything warm... blankets, heating pads, fuzzy socks, under my person... anything to distract it from the tension, the pain, the cold.

One Good Woman, indeed.  This has become more of a review of my recent life rather than of the song itself.  I think it's because it brings back so much excitement, so much zeal.  It's beautiful, yet full of energy.  Starting out with that beautiful piano and simple tapping on the cymbal (I think that's what that is)... what sounds like electric bass... the softness of the synths in the background... quickly falling headfirst into a pile of lovely vocals... cascading heavily into drums, guitar, and ... pure energy.  The "y" sound in "higher" is emphasized.  Then it drops off again, and the first piece is reinvented with double tracking, that wonderfully perfect sound, made even more heavenly by the voice behind it.  The piece shifts again, unable to restrain itself, flying away from itself.  The Voice growls in its insistence that someone "gives" him a love that's taking him higher.  Dropping off again, it's their time.  They have it all.  The piano spells out its agreement with tiny droplets of notes.  Then the Voice gives it a chance to let its whims play themselves out:  "You're such a sight for my poor eyes."  The piano agrees:  "Yes, I totally agree, that you are in love and I am in love as well, I love to play in this wonderful song.  The Voice hums in accompaniment, not a duel like some instruments are fond of, but a loving embrace, an accent.  The piano continues:  "You embrace my sound, I see this and I love you for it, I cannot help it, you let me speak, now please go on."  The Voice continues.  The energy leaps forth once again, bringing every instrument together, into the wave of its life, its soul.  For each and every song has a piece of someone's soul in it, and this one is no exception.  The song fades out, my feet tingle once again, my butt shifts in its chair, my fingers express desire to continue dancing.

I shall post again in a moment.

~whitney

Who am I?

I'm everyone.

Yesterday we went to a Scottish Festival.  It was a gorgeous day, albeit a bit hot, but I didn't get nauseous despite all the sun so I was insanely happy.  As we made our way across the expansive grasses, I turned my head and saw a familiar face tilted to one side, looking up at me.  I got one of those happy excited feelings one gets when they are very pleasantly surprised by the recognition of someone whom they're always happy to see and seldom get to, so I smiled of course.  Our friend was there with his wife and kids so I was surrounded by all sorts of happiness yesterday.

While there, Dale and I visited the table of the Farquharson clan, of which Dale's family name is a sept.  I asked whether McQuoid was Irish or Scottish, because I couldn't remember which side of my family is Irish and which is Scottish.  I found out McQuoid is a sept of the same clan as Dale's.  Whups, I thought... I married into my own clan!  (Turns out that side of my family is actually Irish... I checked when we got home.  But it was funny to think Dale and I were several-gens-removed relatives for a while there.)

I didn't get to sample the meat pies and already know I probably wouldn't be able to stomach haggis.  But they had really fresh lemonade there, freshly squeezed, iced, and sweetened water dumped into a large metal mug.  Very good lemonade, quite possibly the best I have ever had!

We also listened to a very fascinating history about weapon creation and use in Scotland some hundreds of years ago.  The lady telling the story gave a strong bias against the English, saying for 300 years they kept killing themselves before smartening up and realizing they weren't getting anywhere doing that, and calling them pompous for thinking the peasant Scots would just fall back upon seeing them upon their wondrous horses.  I had to laugh at her telling, even though I dislike the warring between nations and just don't get it.  I couldn't help but think, too, that she's talking about a portion of my bloodline somewheres... I'm a mutt, and while people categorise themselves as either British or Scottish, I'm both, and have respect for them as such.

The reason I say that I'm everyone is because of my increasing interest in everything.  I love to explore cultures and pull out the things I love about each.  I used to be solely focused on Native American culture, having thought I was part Cherokee.  (That's up for debate now.)  In recent years, I've become more and more interested in British speech, food, etc.  Especially tea, and lately, scones and clotted cream (OMG!!! yum).  I enjoy hearing about various religious views and comparing them to what I've already heard everywhere else.  I've managed to trace one of my family trees back to 1500's England, possibly Wales, assuming all the children reported between married couples were not actually born of indiscretions... which of course, is quite possible so big whup... still, fun to research it all.

And for a split second, I thought I might have descended from the same clan as Dale's.  That suddenly had me wanting to try on a kilt!  I love the Scottish brogue, and the English "snob" or whatever you'd call it, and the Irish love of the colour green.  I like Celtic knotwork, the look of Gaelic (no, I cannot speak it, I tried once), and lots of fog, which I've heard is a regular thing in the U.K.

I love the Spanish language.  When I was a teen, I loved the Arroz Con Pollo my Puerto Rican friends' mother made.  I love corn mush with bacon in it from a few of the Native American recipes.  I love all sorts of things from all sorts of places and I haven't even made it out of the U.S. yet to seek out yet more things to become attached to!

Anywho, I just finished another scone and some tea.  Funny thing is, I love Jasmine tea, and I tend to favor a tetsubin pot (Japanese?) to make it in.  I love cream tea with the cuke sammiches but wouldn't ever buy a stereotypically ornamental English tea pot to make tea in.  I like the plain white ones instead.  Or green.  LOL.

In the future, I need to spend more time researching Scottish customs, foods, drinks, etc, as well as Irish ones, histories, etc.  All is so intriguing...

~w

DESK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yay for me!  I got a desk!!!!!  A writing desk, to be exact.  I have finally purchased something of good quality that will be around for years and years.  Happy sigh...

:)

Poem: The Current

THE CURRENT
2010072571 - c2010 wlc

Currently
Richard Marx plays on my mac
Lisa's scarfing medicine
You're upstairs reading
My everything

Yesterday
So full of emotion, I
Suppressed the overwhelming feelings
Went out to see a friend
Lest I send me reeling

Today
I waded into water
The current took me into it
I felt so weightless yet so strong
Just a candle barely lit

Tomorrow
I'll head to work again
In my heart is where you'll be
I'll talk to people 'bout a desk
But it's your face I always see

Currently
Not a weight upon my shoulders
I ebb and flow, a pond with wind
Fed by springs, both warm and cold
Outward calm, alive within

 

Music class memory

When I was in 7th grade music class, I had to write a paper on a performer or band of my choice and then give a presentation on it.  I was TERRIFIED of standing up in front of the class.  Well, the presentations carried on for days because we had a lot of students, etc etc.  One of the guys had made a video tape of his presentation and made it look like a news commentary.  He did the rolling stones.  He was great!  I asked my music teacher if I could do an audio tape like that, because I didn't have TV equipment but I knew how to do audio stuff.  She said, sure, so long as I have the written paper to back it up.  So, the night before class, I wrote my paper (procrastinator that I am) and the next morning I got up at 5 to record it before school.

Everything went great.  Throughout the whole thing I dubbed the Chicago 17 album behind my voice as background music (since it was on Chicago).  I finally ended with, "Now, listen to this!" and You're The Inspiration faded in.  I let it finish while I walked away, singing along as I got ready for school.

I obviously didn't have time to listen to it but I was confident that it was fine.  The music teacher looked impressed at my research and quality... but then You're The Inspiration came on.  Suddenly the whole class froze as this horrible sound emanated from the speakers of the class tape deck.  I hid under my hands, colour draining from my face, as I realized what had happened.  The boom box I used to record with had a VERY sensitive microphone built into it, and the damned thing had picked up my voice as I had sung along.

Now, I know I say I can't sing now even though some people say I sound fine, while more musically-inclined folks can still tell that it's best I keep my day job because I could not sing my way out of a pop tart.  But let me explain something.  When I was that age, it was ten million times worse than it is now.  I was politely asked to leave chorus in sixth grade, the cat would run away, mom was always pleading with me to stop singing because I sounded like a sick cow.  I could never tell while I was doing it, but when I heard my singing on that tape, I thought OH MY GOD THAT IS HORRIBLE AND THE WHOLE CLASS IS LISTENING TO IT /RIGHT NOW/ AND OMG MY MUSIC TEACHER CAN HEAR THAT!!!

The look on the teacher's face was shock mixed with some cross of fear and pain.  After what seemed like forever, she slowly looked at me.  I took this as an immediate opportunity and said, "Uh, can I shut that off now?"  She replied, "Yes, please."  I got an A but the incident was never mentioned by anyone.  I think they all preferred to simply forget it.

I didn't record myself singing again until ten years or so ago.

Rule Number One: Cook Lentils Separately

So I decided to make some basmati, and as I was dumping it into the water it hit me:  Lentils would be /awesome/ in rice.  Especially since I was also dumping curry, cumin, and coriander into the stuff.  Since lentils take about 20 minutes to cook, just like basmati, I figure why not dump everything in the pot and cook the whole kit and kaboodle for 20 minutes?  So I did.

The lentils don't steam.  I neglected to realize that they require actual water to cook, not steam, like my beloved rice.

So I had to dump in another two cups of water and let it boil dry, pretty much.  And it did, too, because I forgot about it too long.  But thankfully the crunchy sides were easily rehydrated by mixing it back in.  Now the lentils are mostly done but it's the stickiest basmati I have ever eaten.

It's wonderfully seasoned, however, and with a splash of fake soy sauce, it's a beat.  I want to try some real soy sauce soon.  I didn't know there were different kinds and that the kind I've been getting isn't even really that real.  So, Tamari it is, next time...

~w

rat a tat tat part two

Well, the towels on my table came in handy after all.  While I was trying to entice Lisa out of her hiding place with a bit of tuna sandwich, I tipped over my cup of water and surprisingly, it tipped onto the towels.  I shoved a half-dozen dry ones underneath to keep the wet away from my table.  That worked out well.

Lisa's pee puddles aren't so bad.  LOL

~w

Rat a tat tat

I've had a desk full of peed-on newspaper pretty much every day for the past couple of months.  This is because I got tired of mopping up pee-puddles on my bare desk every two seconds that I sat there.  I refused to confine Lisa to her cage of course, because, well, it's not fun for either of us to have her sitting in a pile of litter and food all day long, staring at me through the glass, glaring when I eat and she can't steal any.

So, last night I began to search for some new ideas.  Rat diapers?  Yeah, like those would even stay on!!  Sounded like more of an annoyance to the both of us.  Then I stumbled across this site.

http://www.dapper.com.au/articles.htm#fuzzletworld

It's obvious how much the rats mean to this person, so I took an immediate liking to the tips on the site.  It was thus with great interest that my eyes alighted upon the idea of covering a table with a beach towel.  A TOWEL!!  Why hadn't I thought of that?!

Well, I may have at one time, now that I have tried it this morning.  Turns out that Lisa sees the towel as something for her cage, not something to run around on and absorb pee with.  And, she also thinks it is a rather fun game to ignore my scowling and "no's" with more aggressive digging and pulling at the towel.  I blocked off the windowsill edge with her small travel cage, which I got a disapproving look for, followed by a rather skillful half-attempt at moving the cage out of the way to continue her naughtiness.

Next, I threw some old, smaller towels that I use specifically for her anyway.  These were placed on top of the large purple one so if she did manage to dig one up, so what.  I watched as she very quickly dragged them into her small cage and proceeded to position them around herself, glancing up at me occasionally to see if I'd take them away.  I didn't.  Then she sat there, blinking one eye at me.  I looked away just long enough to peripherally see her dart into her tank and hide under the box.  The other small towels remain untouched.

I think she's getting even with me for not remembering to save her a bit of my pumpkin muffin this morning.  Summer drains me of appetite, and consequently, she gets to steal less.  I think she's feeling a bit persnickety about the situation.

At any rate, she isn't leaving drops of pee all over my desk right now, which was my goal.  Making her happy again appears to require some kitchen activities.  I don't like being disowned and I like her moping even less.

I did take this opportunity to steal back the towels from her small cage, however, and proceed to clean it properly.  Now I just have to clean Pippin's cage and I can go swimming!

~w

iPhone 4 rant

http://events.apple.com.edgesuite.net/100716iab73asc/event/index.html

Steve looks and sounds REALLY disgusted/upset for the majority of this presentation.  I've never seen him speak like this in the few years I've been watching these things.  I would be upset, too, if I were him.  He's been passionate about his work for a very long time and doesn't seem to accept the idea of settling, so I know he pushes hard to get excellent-quality products out the door, if not from some perspectives, at least from his and the users who love Apple.  The data he presents, who knows, but coming directly from the company, with the level of certainty in his voice, seems to be far more convincing to me than rumours of problems do in the media, especially since Dale doesn't have problems even in a difficult-reception state.  Apple is sending a free case to every user who has bought or will buy a phone September 30th in an attempt to fix the signal strength problem.  Oh, and they're refunding the cost of the bumper case if it was already purchased.

I could be wrong, too, but earlier in the month I heard that the groove where the problem was was due to separate antennae being bridged together by the hand.  When I saw the design of it, though, it almost looked like it was one single antennae with grooves cut into them.  How is this bridging separate antennae?  I'm lost on that one.

Full refund within 30 days, no restocking fees, or anything, if people aren't happy.  Free case.  Are people still complaining?  If so, they need to be slapped for being idiots.  The worst I think Apple is guilty of right now is wearing rose-coloured glasses for the world.  The world is an increasingly hostile and dumb place, sped up and spit out, by an amazing number of idiots who refuse to think for themselves and want to be catered to hand and foot and if they aren't, they'll sue someone for it.  It's bullshit.  Media will do what they will.  It's a country of free speech.  The thing that bothers me is that as soon as the media latches onto something, a large portion of the masses creates an outcry and they all go running around like naughty children crying wolf.  There is so little responsibility for one's own actions!

Egads, I realize nothing is perfect, but again, if you don't want it, don't buy it.  If you buy it and don't like it, return the damned thing!  I cannot believe people are SUING over a cotton-pickin' PHONE!!

celery

Okay, so for once I have an answer to something I figure it just gonna sound weird.  Within minutes of noticing the weirdness, too!

I discovered today upon consuming a stick of celery that my tongue was feeling numb.  Noticeably so.  So I looked up "celery numb tongue" and came up with these.  Eugenol!!  REALLY!!!!!

http://www.madsci.org/posts/archives/2000-07/963602349.Bc.r.html

http://www.ars-grin.gov/cgi-bin/duke/farmacy2.pl?96

Article on APD

Didn't know Rosie O'Donnell's son had this, but the article describes
it to a T from my point of view.

http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/04/26/little-known-disorder-can-take-a-toll-on-learning/?ref=todayspaper

This main part especially (quoted from the article):

---beginning of snip---
It began with a haircut before her son started first grade. Blake had
already been working with a speech therapist on his vague responses
and other difficulties, so when he asked for a "little haircut" and
she pressed him on his meaning, she told the barber he wanted short
hair like his brother's. But in the car later, Blake erupted in tears,
and Ms. O'Donnell realized her mistake. By "little haircut," Blake
meant little hair should be cut. He wanted a trim.

"I pulled off on the freeway and hugged him," Ms. O'Donnell said. "I
said: 'Blakey, I'm really sorry. I didn't understand you. I'll do
better.' "

That was a turning point. Ms. O'Donnell's quest to do better led her
to Ms. Heymann, who determined that while Blake could hear perfectly
well, he had trouble distinguishing between sounds. To him, words like
"tangerine" and "tambourine," "bed" and "dead," may sound the same.

"The child hears 'And the girl went to dead,' and they know it doesn't
make sense," Ms. Heymann told me. "But while they try to figure it
out, the teacher continues talking and now they're behind. Those
sounds are being distorted or misinterpreted, and it affects how the
child is going to learn speech and language."

Blake's brain struggled to retain the words he heard, resulting in a
limited vocabulary and trouble with reading and spelling. Abstract
language, metaphors like "cover third base," even "knock-knock" jokes,
were confusing and frustrating.

Children with auditory processing problems often can't filter out
other sounds. The teacher's voice, a chair scraping the floor and
crinkling paper are all heard at the same level. "The normal reaction
by the parent is 'Why don't you listen?' " Ms. Heymann said. "They
were listening, but they weren't hearing the right thing."

--- end of snip ---

My own experience includes an incident when I was around five years of
age. The speech therapist told me that if I didn't say what she did,
that my mother would leave me there and never come back for me. I
looked up at the door. My mother was standing on the other side,
looking in, saw me look up, and smiled, waving. Her mouth opened and
she said, "Bye!" I was petrified but still couldn't say what the
woman wanted. It was not until I was in my twenties that I confronted
my mother about it. She had no idea what I was talking about at
first, then exclaimed, "Oh! I used to look in on you, yes. I might
have waved and said "hi" but I would never have gone along with what
she said. In fact, I took you out of there because I saw her hit you
once. She threatened me with Child Services and everything, but I
wouldn't bring you back to her after that." I replayed the video
memory in my head many times after that, and realized that "hi" and
"bye" look very similar when you're lip-reading at five years old.
That one revelation all but erased years of built-up anger towards her
for wanting to leave me just because I couldn't talk right.

I also once heard my mother say "I'm all out of panty-liners" when she
had really said "I'm all out of candy bars." I had no contextual
reference at the time, and an argument ensued because I responded in
what I thought was a helpful manner while she thought I was teasing
her. It was the first time I remember that she withdrew and asked me
what I'd heard, rather than both of us just storming off into our
separate corners. I was in my late teens at the time.

My vocabulary never suffered that much, though, because Mom, God bless
her, taught me the value of the Written Word at a VERY early age. In
fact, my coping mechanisms were strengthened greatly by my love and
appreciation of the written word. I didn't learn words by hearing
them, I learned them by reading them. Eventually, I knew so many that
when I didn't understand a spoken word, I could look up the sounds in
my internal Dictionary and figure out what was really said by making
comparisons to other words that might sound similar. Sometimes, I
hear an unfamiliar word only to realize I never knew how it was
pronounced, just spelled! Then my brain makes a new connection.

And yes, background noise is horrible. Just horrible. Crowds are
worse, but they make me give up entirely so it's less taxing.
Background noise means I /should/ hear but I don't, and it puts
tremendous strain on my energy reserves while I try to compensate.

~w

Lightning picture

Cool!!!!!

Standard search

So, I just came up with a plan.

When I start getting more serious about a new vehicle, what I think I will do is go visit every dealership in a hundred mile radius of here and simply say I am comfort-finding.

My desires for a standard will start with these items:

I get into car and can twist around to see out back of me. If I cannot see easily, the car is done, right there.

I do not feel too cramped, no immediate backache, no confinement of arms with seat pulled forward into my positioning.

Once these requirements are met, then I would ask Questions:
Mpg?
Cost?
Features available?
And other things I might think of.

If all of the above meet my desires, then I would want a test drive. This would be a final determining factor, but I would not buy right then and there, but rather, continue this process until I found a couple strong possibilities. Then I would need to make a decision!

Another method to get accustomed to models would be to ask friends if I can sit in the driver's seat and take a peek around... :)

-w

Lisa

In my excitement over figuring out my iPhoto problem, I neglected to
mention that Lisa, my rat, is safe and sound despite my stupidity.
Whenever I'm at my desk (often) I let her run around my desk, stealing
food if it's present. She's finally become quite content with this.
Last night was one of these nights. However, she was enjoying herself
so much that she had an extended run of the desk before finally
situating herself back in her tank. Meanwhile, it was nearing my
bedtime, and I began to doze off. I caught myself doing this and
ventured up to bed, completely forgetting that Lisa's tank was still
wide open.

I awoke this morning at 6am, still ruminating over the iPhoto issue,
when suddenly I saw her little face looking at me through my mind's
eye. I sat bolt upright, realizing that at that very moment it was
entirely possible that she'd ventured out during the night, one of the
cats heard her, and, my presence being elsewhere, she ended up
shishkabobbed on one of their claws. I began having unwelcome images
float through my head at what I might find on my way down the stairs.

Thankfully, the blessed little soul either stayed in her tank safely
tucked away in her sleeping box, or the cats are so accustomed to her
noises that they didn't realize the peril they could have put her in.

From now on, she has a curfew so when I hit mine she's not forgotten.

~w

picture havoc

Technical horror story. If I were a typical user, I would be helpless
right now, but thankfully I had a good night's sleep and was able to
get over my confusion and anger long enough to figure out what had
happened. It also helps that I know I have a backup of the photos
themselves.

Over the past couple weeks, I've been going through my iPhoto library
(the final resting place of all my photos once they've been processed
and backed up). While browsing my shots, I began to find pictures
that couldn't be found. I.e., I could see them in iPhoto, but trying
to open them beyond their thumbnails and ratings and other db stuff
would tell me screw you, cannot find it.

[In case you don't know, iPhoto is a program from Apple that acts like
a photo warehouse. It displays photos in small visuals until you
click them. It also allows you to describe the pictures, categorize
them, and organize them, as well as do some minor retouching.
Typically, my photos get copied to the directory iPhoto uses to find
the pictures, creating yet another copy of them in itself.]

I tried repairing the whole library and got scads of these missing
items. Scads. Then last night I discovered a brand-new missing photo
that I know I just barely put in there. Something wasn't right. So,
I realized it wasn't just older stuff since 2009, but also newer
stuff. No apparent pattern at all!! It couldn't be corruption of one
directory, etc, because it concerned pictures from all over the map.
After some research I came up with this:

http://forums.macosxhints.com/showthread.php?p=559846

This turns out to be exactly what my problem was: Somehow, a little
checkbox in the preferences on importing pictures into iPhoto was
clicked off along with the color profile embedding. User-style, of
course, I don't recall unchecking this or even knowing of its
existence, but it was unchecked. What this unchecking did was create
"shortcuts" to the pictures. Well, since I thought iPhoto was still
importing the pictures into itself, I've been freely moving my
directories at will. What confirmed this for me was finding some
website pictures go missing. In February, I began using iWeb for my
website design and moved all my sites' RapidWeaver folders off the
hard drive to an external one. The pictures that were in there had
been copied into iPhoto and I just noticed them to be missing. So I
tracked down the aliases and figured out where they had pointed to.
When I saw "rapidweaver" I knew exactly where those had gone to.

While I know I've lost /some/ photos, those don't matter because they
were off the 'net and not my own precious memories. I probably have a
time machine backup of them if I look hard enough. And, I have all
the missing filenames, so it's not difficult to restore things to
perfect balance and harmony. Everything is named by date so finding
them is super easy. The problem now is my hard drive space. That's
the original reason I moved crap off my hard drive in the first
place!! So, I'm looking into two things: 1, upgrade my hard drive to
a larger one and 2, using this helper program called iPhoto Buddy
(http://www.iphotobuddy.com/) to split up my library into smaller
pieces (by year, perhaps). The smaller pieces could be archived to a
couple externals for safekeeping, leaving me with more recent items to
enjoy. Eventually, I plan to pare down the library anyway (one reason
I was going through it). This would also make it easier on me to
revamp the hard drive a bit later because things would be more
manageable. (Currently, I'm not planning to clone the drive; I want
to start fresh with a new OS.)

Anywho, I need some time off work to futz with the hard drive piece,
but my backups can be brought in little by little in the interim. No
sweat.

Very relieved Mac user who was actually able to figure out what the problem was,

~w

Welts

I took out the bow this afternoon. First, I still hate this bow.
Second, I was so irritated with it that I bent my arm like a n00b and
gave myself a nice string burn. Then I got so ticked off that I tried
being a righty for a while and gave myself a nice pair of three-inch-
long arrow burns on my right hand, complete with two oozy scratches at
either end. Nothing major, but enough to remind me that I'm a left-
handed archer and that this bow SUCKS.

Compensating for the design of the crappy bow, I did manage to hit the
target three times out of 44 attempts. It would have been 45 attempts
but I lost an arrow in the swamp on the second round.

My arrow maker is going out of business, too. Dammit.

At least the third round had all the arrows in the same general area,
an indication that I'd begun adapting to the darned thing.

I want a machete.

~w

The Simple Life

It's been a lazy spring Saturday. It's probably in the 60's. The sun
peeks out now and again, but for the most part, it's slightly humid
with an overcast of clouds. I sit here typing this whilst drinking
Ovaltine and some wheat berry bread that Dale made from a box mix in
our breadmaker. Usually we make bread in that thing with ingredients
kept on hand, but he likes this particular type of bread and finds the
box recipe yummy enough. So, boxed it is. This time. ::rubbing
hands together::

As for me, I'm not overfond of the stuff, but a couple warm, fresh
slices cannot be passed up. This modest meal comes after a short
while outside, wiping down my truck's windshield, the interior, and
the side windows. I rainx'ed the windshield and then proceeded down
the slope of the yard to the four truck tires I piled up down there.
Today I planted the sprouted potatoes that have been growing in our
cupboard much of this winter. We'll see what happens.

In our raised beds, freshly tilled (and one long one freshly made by
Dale just this past week!!), I've already planted a row of lettuce and
a row of peas. In two weeks, I'll plant another row of each, and two
weeks later, another row. The idea is to avoid being inundated with
too many veggies at once and extend the harvest. Once all danger of
frost is past, I'll also be planing a plethora of other vegetables and
a few melons. Some, I'll need to plant all at once, but others I will
also stagger the plantings.

Our strawberry plants made it through the winter. In fact, they
appear to be quite hardy indeed. The one that gave us three
strawberries in its very first season has tripled in size this spring.
The others spread somehow, and it has been made obvious that they
plan to take over the original garden plot. The green onions,
meanwhile, aren't complaining about it. They are thick and about to
blossom, obviously unconcerned about the potential threat. This is
their third year of providing for me and all I did was plant two rows
of seeds three years ago. They, and the strawberries, are the easiest
things we've thrown in our garden! They simply take care of
themselves!!

In the house, meanwhile, Dale planted some tomatoes and peppers. The
tomatoes took right off and are about three or four inches tall in a
matter of weeks. The peppers just began sprouting a few days ago and
now we have a few that are nearing an inch. Dale is very excited.
Very. He plans to build the biggest, baddest, most securest fence
around his pepper plants that can ever be built, and no cat is going
anywhere near the would-be litterbox. This will be our second attempt
to grow peppers. I hope that with the fence, he'll succeed in his
endeavour. I'd really like to see him eating his own peppers in a few
months. I can just picture the joy on his face!

Earlier in the week, Dale borrowed my truck to get a good deal of
mulch. I took his car to work. We each had our excitement. While I
was full of adrenaline telling everyone how I successfully drove a
standard into work that morning, he was off watching mulch get dumped
into the bed of the truck, making the suspension bounce up and down
with trucky glee. He told me later that seeing this would have made
me feel proud. He also admitted that he felt sorta "macho" driving
that thing. I told him about my adventures with his car, and also
admitted that I kinda felt "cool" driving THAT thing. We exchanged
happy, impish smiles and agreed that we'd have to swap off now and
again. A colleague called the car "the twitchy fun car" and somehow
Dale called the car "Twitchy" as if that is the name. For me, it's
stuck. Ha.

We also went over to a friend's house and had a good meal, some nice
conversation and watched Avatar (for us, the second time). It's the
second time we went there and enjoyed their hospitality, and have
determined that we need to invite them over here sometime soon.

Dale has a colleague at work who is Chinese. He asked her about tea
for me and she rather promptly came into work with a couple of samples
for him to take home to me. I wasn't expecting such a surprise and
was thoroughly excited. After an hour of debate with myself over the
very familiar flavour, I have determined that it must be Da Hong Pao.
The packaging is all in Chinese so I'll have to wait for Dale to ask
her to make sure I am correct. I am certain that it's an oolong, and
only a bit less certain that it's a wuyi of some sort. I will not be
surprised, however, if I have determined the exact flavour. I had
purchased a bag of the stuff from a more local distributor a good year
ago, and despite not having it for a while, recall the multiple levels
of flavour it provided my palate. I also seem to recall thinking that
da hong pao reminded me of Kukicha (the twig version, not green). I
had this same impression from the unknown sample I tried this morning.

Of course, now I want to give his colleague something in return for
this combination of detective work and wondrous enjoyment of taste.
I've decided on two jars of locally made fruit spreads. I was at a
loss at first, but after reviewing several sites on Chinese culture,
these seem like a good idea somehow. Apparently it is not good luck
to receive an odd number of items so this is why I'm doing two rather
than one; in addition, I wanted to ensure the possibility that at
least one is liked. Chinese supposedly appreciate food that is local
to the gift giver (especially if it's new to them, hm, we've got lots
in common there). They also seem to like sweets. Finally, they're
very socially-oriented so I figure they would want to share. Granted,
these are all generalities, but I figure it's all close enough to
American thoughts on gifts that I can't go horribly wrong and my gift
will, at worst, not be fully appreciated by one or more Chinese
palates. I'm guessing, though, that with two different flavours, at
least ONE will be liked by someone. And it means an even number of
items to avoid the potential of an unlucky number. The most I need to
do now is make sure I don't put them in a white or blue bag upon
delivery. White's apparently for death and I have forgotten what blue
is but it's a no-no. I found my research quite interesting. While I
find it entertaining that so many cultures live by what some consider
superstition, I also respect the various ways of people and their
beliefs. So, to learn new things about people, that's cool.

There is something very wonderful to be said for having some simple
things in life. On this lazy Saturday afternoon, we've already
maintained our vehicles, cared for a garden which will provide us with
home-grown, organic food, and enjoyed simple food. Later we will
visit the nearby store and purchase a few staples. Everything we need
is within a half-hour of here, including work. We're surrounded by
greenery and a beautiful house. Our critters are healthy and we're
healthy, too, other than the few minor pains of creeping closer to
middle age and the occasional struggle with an old injury.

Life is _very_ good. I have found that I am quite content in this
environment. There is nothing wrong with being laid back and doing
things for oneself and one's family.

~nv