November 2003 archive

(84 entries)

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November 30, 2003

'Shall I describe it to you... or would you like me to go find you a box?'

I still haven't sat down to watch The Two Towers Extended Version. And I call myself a nerd! A nerd, perhaps, but a nerd in the crazed end-of-semester mode where I am perfectly willing to be distracted ALL the time, but can't in good conscience consciously commit to a four-hour distraction.

In the meantime, I bring you this quote, which I think you should keep in mind whenever reading my blog or interacting with me in meatspace:

"That doesn't make sense to me, but then, you are very small."
- Treebeard

'Bubble Tea is not a fad. It's a trend.'

Bubble Tea is the greatest thing ever. Her Cariness introduced me to it at a trip to the local bubble tea joint during one of our ever-productive User Interface Design group meetings and it fascinated me. It's sweet, milky tea with squishy tapioca "bubbles" at the bottom, which you suck up while you drink the tea.

While doing my Network Computing homework in the computer lab today, I had a terrible craving for bubble tea. I decided I would have some when I finished my homework and the desire for the squishy sweetness almost drove me to stay on task. Almost. There were a few distractions that prevented this, of course, but I got my tea eventually.

I highly recommend the hot almond-cream milk tea. It is my New Best Friend.

I love a bad joke, me

You really have to have a certain sense of humour to hang around me. I'm just telling you right now. Don't say I didn't warn you. Without any further ado, I bring you this joke, nicked from Hurtling towards obscurity:

What's gray on the inside and clear on the outside?

read extended entry... »

Unconscious Mutterings

The free associations are hiding in the extension, so as to avoid affecting your own.

read extended entry... »

srah | 9:05 AM | TrackBack | Tags: memes, unconscious mutterings |

November 29, 2003

My neighbors went on vacation and all I got was this... uh...

Have you ever pet-sat for a friend or neighbor? Did they give you something in return? I don't want to seem ungrateful or anything, but when we go on vacation and our neighbors look after our mail, we bring them back a token of appreciation.

I looked after our neighbors' cats for a week this summer while they were on vacation. I fed them twice a day, petted and brushed them, cleaned the litterbox, let them in and out of the house and gave them medication. I never would have thought of being monetarily compensated (although I wouldn't have said no), but I did hope they might thank me in some way.

They came home and called my house.

"Would you like me to bring your key over?" I asked.
"That's alright - you can hold onto it in case we ever get locked out." And that was that.

They called again last week.

"Do you still have the key to our house?"
"Yes, do you need it back?"
"No, I just wondered if you could feed the cats again this weekend."

I'm doing it again, because I'm a nice person and kitties need feeding. Meh. Maybe they'll surprise me.

Dream

I dreamt that my User Interface Design class went on a field trip to the Amish reservation. It wasn't just an Amish community - they had been rounded up and forced to live in this place. When we arrived, the women were wearing heavy aprons and German WWI helmets and searching the hills for spent cartridges. They were actually dressed a bit more like Pilgrims than like Amish. They were eager to talk to us, and the one who talked to my group was MF, who I went to high school with. Apparently she had "gone Amish" soon after graduation. She was not very plain at all - I think she had curled her hair. She was interested to learn if I had ended up a librarian, the way I wanted to in high school. I was interested that she cared enough to remember what I wanted to do, since I never liked her much back then.

November 28, 2003

Chicks that I would dig if I were a dude

I re-watched Love Actually today and considered watching The Two Towers extended version (although I don't have the time to commit to more than thinking about it) last night. I've decided that if I were a guy, I think that the kind of girls I would go for would be Natalie Portman, Keira Knightley, and Liv Tyler. They have that sort of clear, glowing complexion that I think makes women look particularly beautiful. They must drink a lot of water or be well-lit or something.

What do you find attractive in whichever sex you don't usually look at? Or for that matter, the one you do?

Update: Through long, hard deliberation, Justin and I have decided that my taste in men runs to the skinny and accented. Doesn't it seem like this is something I should have determined before?

November 27, 2003

Thanksgiving injury

That stupid f***ing dog bit me! My foot is not bleeding, but he did break the skin. Now maybe someone will believe me when I say he's evil. Why do we let this horrible biting beast live in our house?

Nothing to see here... move along...

I would like to take this holiday moment to refute any rumours that I may have spent the past two days making Orlando Bloom and Legolas Greenleaf paper dolls online.

Just in case those rumours were, you know, already out there. Ahem. Not true.

[thanks to David]

Dream

I don't remember the beginning of my dream very clearly, but there was a part that took place in a museum and I either had seen a movie of my life or my life was like Groundhog Day, but I knew that some prisoners on a field trip were going to escape, somehow blend in and get weapons, and go on a murderous rampage that would kill my family. So I spent the whole time trying to avoid this situation and getting déjà vu and trying to change things from the way I knew they had been before. I only knew we were safe when the heroic happy-ending music began to play.

Later, I know that Mr B------ and I were sitting on our 540 prof's deck in the cold and talking to him through the window about our homework questions.

Even later, I was walking through Vichy and ran into SM and JA (from school) in the middle of town. They called me over because JA was having some problems with her ATM card and they thought I could help. So I came over and it turned out they were using one of the self-checkout machines from Meijer's (still, mind you, right in the open in the middle of town). Everything on this machine was backwards, so you had to swipe your card and sign (SM had to sign for her for some reason), then scan all of your food. Her problem was that she was starting out with everything already sitting on the weighing part, so nothing would scan. I taught them all about self-checkout machines and they were very grateful.

Then SM and I got onto the top deck of a double-decker bus and rode away, comparing our schedules for next semester. SM said he wished he'd gotten to know me better this semester, since we were only going to have 503 together next semester.

Gobble gobble!

Good morning! It is precisely Not Six Thirty In The Morning o'clock! Happy Thanksgiving to me!

What's that you say? I get to eat all day in addition to sleeping in?

Best. Holiday. Ever.

November 26, 2003

Sleep, glorious sleep!

These are my Thanksgiving Day plans, which I am really excited about:

1) Don't wake up at 6:30am.
2) Do some other stuff.

Me so soupy

David and I went to Sushi.Come for lunch today. I had never been there before and had actually only been to a Japanese restaurant once in my life.

I had California rolls, which were garnished with fish eggs. When is it caviar and when is it just fish eggs? I don't care. I love the little buggers. I imagine that most people just swallow them down, but I love to bite each little one and feel the tiny crunches between my teeth. I truly am the Queen of the Chewers, which explains why I only ate about four of my rolls in the hour we were there.

Going back to Normalville

The Real World: Paris is over. Last night's season finale sucked, except for the return of Cheryl to our viewing party, which caused much sarcastic remarking and renewed accusations of sister-loving for Ace. The RealWorlders all remarked, before leaving their boring, boring lives in France to return to their boring, boring lives in the US, on how much they had grown as human beings and how they really appreciated learning about French culture.

Growth? French culture? Were they living the same lives I was watching?? These people spent four months drinking Snapple in a chateau and emerging only to go to English-language bars and plagiarize a guidebook.

What am I going to do with my Tuesday nights now? Who will I look down on and scream at in disgust?

Dream

I dreamt last night that I flew back to France to be an assistant for the second semester, but I didn't prepare anything. I didn't wait for my paperwork to find out if I was accepted or where I was supposed to go to, I didn't tell my host family that I was coming, and I left my stupid cell phone back in the States.

November 25, 2003

And I say to myself, 'It's wonderful, wonderful'

This is what we got Danny* for her birthday. Perhaps if she's very nice, she'll get the upgrade for Christmas...

* not her real name, nor do I remember why I'm calling her this - but I bet Cheryl does!

srah | 11:35 AM | TrackBack | Tags: discovered |

November 24, 2003

I totally kick ass

I am in the Washington Post!

Well, okay, not me specifically, but the website that I update is mentioned. I was excited. Shut up.

Sudden burst of insanity

There is an invisible eagle on my shoulder. His name is Falcor. Would you like to pet him? He likes attention.

What? You don't want to pet him? Don't worry; he won't bite. He's a nice birdie.

What? C'mon. Just pet him. You know you want to.

Oh yeah? Well maybe Falcor doesn't want you to pet him, anyway. Maybe he's too good for you. Hmph.

Yes he does! STROKE HIM! STROKE MY EAGLE!

'The man was a Beatle, for god's sake!'

Alright, you guys win. Paul McCartney's stupid "Wonderful Christmastime" is on the radio every time I turn to WNIC so I, too, hate it with a burning passion.

My new favorite Christmas song o' the moment (because we can't "Stab into Christmas" at every moment of the day*) is "Feliz Navidad". Hearing music in Spanish on Detroit radio is so rare that I get waaaay too excited to be able to sing about felicidad.

* ... or can we?

I'm nightmaring of a White Thanksgiving

Yesterday the weather was in the 60s. The sun shone, I wore a sweatshirt instead of a coat and, although it was a little windy, I was warm and comfortable all day.

Today it's snowing. The temperature is approximately However Many Degrees It Is When Your Blood Starts To Freeze In Your Veins. Stupid Michigan.

November 23, 2003

Early edition

Had a 501 editing meeting this morning at 9 that has not finished yet. And probably won't finish for several hours.

I am surviving on a constant stream of Starbursts and chocolate mint Kisses. I have the mother of all sugar highs and I am going to crash and burn when I run out. I think my veins hurt.

Synopsis of the evening... in link-form!

In case anyone cares, potatoes and cheese are always a good combination, Sgt Gray did it with the wrench in the carriage house, Lock and I are totally sweet at Cranium, my karaoke masterpieces were Bizarre Love Triangle, Broken Wings and Son of a Preacher Man, and "real dolls cost money, and I'd just rather use the unlimited power of my imagination...cuz I ain't got no damn money."

Unconscious Mutterings

Reminder: do not free-associate while tipsy.

read extended entry... »

And again... tipsy ravings from srah

It takes some wine, but I can sing! I am a karaoke shark! Long live Five-Layer, the Karaoke Revolution queen! I finally beat that damn Himbo, Princess Lock, at something! How much wine did I have, anyway?

More editing bright and early tomorrow - oh boy!

November 22, 2003

It's a nerd... it's a jock... it's Supersrah!

I have managed to watch U-M beat OSU's sucky Ohio behinds and at the same time find a website devoted to Square One TV. Doan be jealous of my versatility now.

The nerdding planner

(watching preview for a stupid show about some reality TV people getting married)

Stupid TV bride: I want everything in the wedding to be pink!
Stupid TV groom: She wants everything to be pink! I'm not getting married at some Strawberry Shortcake wedding.
srah: What do you care? Why should you have any say? You're just an accessory, groom. That's why you leave the planning up to the bride's mother. So then you can get married in a nice ruffly shirt and you'll like it that way.
srahmom: I promise, when you get married, I'll keep out of the planning.
srah: What? Darn. I was planning on keeping out, too.
srahmom: Well then your fiancé can do it. But then you'll end up getting married in waders in the middle of a trout stream.
srah: Trout stream? Who the heck am I marrying? Knowing me, I'd end up getting married in fake pointy ears.

Hold me/ Love me and feed me/ Kiss me and free me

I keep hearing Michael Jackson everywhere. Getting arrested for pedophilia is almost as good a publicity stunt as a very public breakup just around the release of your movie.

The word is out
You're doin' wrong
Gonna lock you up
Before too long,
Your lyin' eyes
Gonna tell you right
So listen up
Don't make a fight
- Bad

srah | 10:39 AM | TrackBack | Tags: music |

November 21, 2003

'501: Now with 15% more bitchslapping!'

The remarkable thing about me is that I can survive anything. This is only because I overreact in the first place and think that lots of work is going to kill me. It's not going to kill me. It's just going to make me suffer a little. It's 5pm and I'm not dead yet. Time for a break, then more suffering when I get home.

November 20, 2003

Nor to beg

For absolutely no reason, I would like to remind you that Pearls Before Swine merchandise can be purchased at Cafepress.

And that I wear a size Small.

Ain't too stressed to blog, sweet darlin'

Have you ever wanted to kill people on the street because they're so happy and you have so much work to do? Have you ever wanted to kill people on the bus because they have seats and you have so much work to do?

All of a sudden am stressed beyond my imagination. Am too stressed to cry, because tears would blur my vision and impede my productivity. Am too stressed to take the time out to make myself a tinfoil hat and go crazy in a proper tinfoil-hat fashion.

Am apparently not too stressed to blog. Am never too stressed to blog, because blog is outlet for stress.

Why am I so emotionally unstable this semester? I used to float along on a plateau and am now all manic-depressive ALL the time. Should I be seeking help?

'I shall call him Squishy, and he shall be mine, and he shall be my Squishy'

I watched Finding Nemo last night. I loved Bubbles* and the seagulls. I think I have an affection for the stupidest characters in a movie.

You should probably not give too much thought to what this means about my real-life relationships.

* Who I have just discovered was voiced by Stephen Root, which explains everything.

He is fluent in over six million tongues...

Like Scrabble*, doing crossword puzzles is a great way to invent new words. While guessing "Reason for a separation" in today's puzzle (it turned out to be "BROKEN VOWS"), Mr B------ and I did a lot of speculating. This resulted in the following definition of a possible reason for separation:

eroicadroidyvous: when your partner has a three-way with C3PO and a member of a symphony orchestra.

–––––
* Except unlike Scrabble in that Scrabble sucks.

Haiku explanation for stains

Lunchtime incident:
Lentil soup should stay in bowl
Not on Sarah's shirt.

'I dressed her son up like a girl and invited him to play with me'

Are you a 23 (or so) year old female? Do you remember Jonathan Brandis, star of such great works as Stephen King's It, "SeaQuest DSV" and the 1992 cross-dressing pre-teen comedy Ladybugs, featuring Rodney Dangerfield? Of course you do.

Well, he's dead and lost at the bottom of another article about the death of someone I've never heard of. Why don't they ever publicize the deaths of celebrities I actually remember? And where is Mike Vitar these days?

I want a girl with a short skirt and a long jacket

What is it with men and skirts*? Do they want to see some leg, or are they fascinated because they don't wear skirts themselves? Skirt envy, perhaps?

What does my reader base have to say on the topic?

* For that matter, what is it with men in skirts?

November 19, 2003

You'll never guess what's being squished at the bottom of my bookbag

Quotes running through my head:

I'm so hungry, I could eat brownies!
Smashed brownies need the most love.
These berries taste like brownies!
My cat's breath smells like brownies.
Mrs Hoover, my brownie crawled into my mouth and I ate it.
Brownies. Glaaaaaaaaaaagh...
It's bringing brownies! Break its legs!

Is it lunchtime yet?

Middle school mentality

The latest trend: Silent Dating. Anything that involves passing notes instead of talking is fine by me!

Well... that was surprisingly easy...

Last semester I struggled over a borrowed laptop, trying desperately to find things that would fit into my schedule. This time I got into all of the sections I wanted on the first try. It feels like I haven't worked hard enough for it.

	9-10	10-11	11-12	12-1	1-2	2-3	3-4	4-5	5-6	6-7
M
T								543 - Programming I
W	622 - Evaluation of Systems & Services						503 DS
R	502 DS	543 DS						503 - Search & Retrieval
F		502 - Choice & Learning

Stupid evening classes.

November 17, 2003

'There was an Ingmar Bergman movie about me! I was played by David Carradine.'

Soon I will be the most popular girl at SI. I went to the Archives as Depicted on the Silver Screen presentation tonight with the hottest date of anyone there. My date is so popular in SI circles* that I'm hoping some of it will rub off on me. My date knew everso many people at the presentation and talked and chatted with all of them while I looked on with pride at being associated with such an individual. I was not too embarassed when my date shrieked and shuddered at scenes of misuse of archives in the movies.

After all, you have to expect to put up with a certain amount of embarassment when you take your mom to a school function.

* And blog circles, for that matter.

Wanderlust

Why does Lebanon sound so fascinating and alluring and exotic and romantic and Beirut just sound scary?

Someone just came in asking about study abroad opportunities in Lebanon. I want to go to Lebanon. I want to go to Iceland. I want to go to Cambodia. I want to go to South Africa. I want to go to Ireland. I want to go to Peru. I want to go to Bulgaria. I want to go to Japan. Why am I here? Why am I not trotting the globe?

Fat free since 1949! Because before that, they were pure lard!

I went for years without a Junior Mint and never missed them. Then Katie started talking about them* this summer and I went out and tried them again. Now they're my comfort food and I now crave them whenever I'm having a bad day or I'm stressed or torn or confused or feel like crying.

I feel just fine today. My worries of the weekend are mostly behind me and my stress of the week is ahead of me. And yet I had to have Junior Mints. I think this may be a sign of addiction.

I took a break and ran down to the Union bookstore, my usual Junior Mints supplier. But there were no Junior Mints to be had. I had to settle for York Bites, which is like taking Nyquil when you really want crack cocaine. York Bites have a completely different texture and are too minty. They suck and have in no way appeased my ravenous desire.

* and their user-unfriendly packaging...

Dream

I dreamt last night that Robin and I were living in France. Every day we would go into this apartment building, lure this guy out onto his rickety balcony by making him think that his dog was out there, then the balcony would collapse and we could dance around his apartment. This happened over and over and over again every day, but we were always afraid it wouldn't work.

After we left his apartment one day, we ran into my Humanities History teacher from high school, the one I run into every single time I go back to visit my high school. He was vacationing with his family and wouldn't stop talking to us.

Do you hear what I hear?

As I drove into work this morning, I flipped through the dial, looking for a radio station that was playing actual music on a morning show. I came across WNIC, which has already begun playing non-stop Christmas music. I actually enjoyed it because they played this rock medley of Christmas songs that was harder than anything you would usually hear on the lovely Detroit adult contemporary station.

I don't know whether to be excited or disgusted by the "holiday season" beginning weeks before Thanksgiving. I generally like Christmas carols until I've heard the same one fifteen times in a row, seemingly following me from store to store as I slowly go insane anyway from the crowds and the impossible quest for gifts.

What are your favorite Christmas songs?

This is what happens when we depend too much on technology...

Blogrolling.com appears to have been hacked. Rest assured, I have not suddenly become the stalker of some pregnant Christian-music lover.

Come baaaaack, blogroll! Come baaaaack! I can't remember my links without you!

November 16, 2003

Is it a breakup if it never had a chance to get started?

I hate it when Neil Diamond has the words for my situation, because I don't want to become that person who endlessly quotes Neil Diamond, thinking that he's some kind of god of lyrics-writing when he really writes a lot of crap. Oh wait, I already am the person who endlessly quotes him, so I might as well keep going. I feel like The Neil is singing to me:

But I got an emptiness deep inside
And I've tried
But it won't let me go
And I'm not a man who likes to swear
But I never cared
For the sound of being alone

I don't care for that sound either, Neil, but maybe it's best for everyone involved if I listen to it for a while.

Unconscious Mutterings

She gives out words, we free-associate. Read on for The Association.

read extended entry... »

November 15, 2003

Hooray! Now I can hate me on the bus!

After months of planning and stalling, srah finally gets around to going to buy a cell phone. Our scene takes place at the AT&T Wireless store at the mall.

(approaches counter)
AT&T Wireless Dude: Can I help you?
srah: Yes. I would like a cell phone.
(Rolls eyes, realizing that she is in a cell phone store. Continues.)
AT&T Wireless Dude: Alright, what are you looking for?
srah: I know exactly what I want because I tried to buy a phone on your website, but it's completely unusable so I couldn't.
(Dies a little on the inside, realizing how SI and User Interface Design are ruining her life. Continues.)
AT&T Wireless Dude: Unusable? The phone?
srah: No, the website. I couldn't buy what I wanted. It's horrible and useless. And the feedback form doesn't even work.
(Wants to stop self from talking because clearly this guy is not going to be able to do anything about the stupid corporate website, but has to keep forging on because the site sucks so hard... so bad... and wicked bad. Continues.)
srah: So I couldn't get the phone, so I've come to get it here. I want this one (points) and I want the $39.99 National plan for one year.
(Srah fills out a form with her information and boring negotiations are carried out in regards to specials they have going on, free Internet access for a month, etc.)
AT&T Wireless Dude: Well, I might not be able to get this activated today. Our system is down at the moment. Usually I could get you going in fifteen minutes, but it might be a while until they get our system fixed. So I'll call you when you can come and pick up the phone. (looks at "phone number" entry on form) Do you have this number here?
srah: Do I have... what?
AT&T Wireless Dude: This number here?
srah: That's my phone number, yes.
AT&T Wireless Dude: Do you have it on you?
srah: (blank look)
AT&T Wireless Dude: (sighs) Is this your cell phone number?
srah: (blank look) I don't have a cell phone. That's why I'm here.

He didn't seem to know how to deal with the fact that I didn't have a cell phone. Mr B------ points out that some people buy cell phones when they already have one, because they're transferring their service or for whatever other reason. My problem is that he seemed to assume that I already had one, when I think the default assumption should be that I don't.

The camels are for the stupid tourists

I went out to dinner in Dearborn tonight. One of Robin's engineering buddies is from Lebanon and wanted to show off his country to some of his friends. And their friends. And their friends. So we were a group of about 40 in all. We had a banquet room reserved for us, we paid a set amount, and the food appeared and appeared and appeared and appeared. We had hummous, Lebanese bread (we weren't allowed to call it pita, although I don't know why), salads, tabouleh, falafel, shish kebab, shwarma, freedom fries*, and a million other things I didn't know the name for. It was all delicious. Well, almost all.

There were suspicious bright pink vegetables on one of the vegetable trays. Frenchie #1 tasted one, made a face of excruciating disgust, and said to Frenchie #2, "This is terrible. You have to try it." So Frenchie #2 tried it and made the same face. I had tasted something bright pink earlier and it wasn't bad. Wimps.

"Pass it on over here," I dared. Frenchie #2 cut off a piece and gave it to me. Uh... horrible. Horrible horrible horrible in a way that cannot be described. The color was all wrong for a food to be. The texture was insanely squishy yet impossible to cut. The taste... Robin asked me what it was like. My mind was a blank.

"You really have to taste it for yourself," I said. "There's no way to describe it." She took a bite and made the same face we'd all made before. "Well," she described, "It's sort of like when you burp bile." This is the best description I heard all night. It turns out it was turnips pickled in beet juice.

Luckily we were able to cleanse our palates with dessert. It was a creamy filling wrapped in phyllo dough and flavoured with what was identified as either persimmon or chirimoya. It was sweet, with a delicate floral flavour to it. The name of the dessert translates into English as "ladies' arms". I asked for the Arabic name and have forgotten exactly what it was. All I remember is thinking that it sounded a lot like he said, "The nudists sit"**.

* as labeled by Frenchie #1
** Where does a nudist sit? Anywhere he wants. And then you should probably wipe down the seat or something.

srah | 12:58 AM | TrackBack | Tags: food |

November 14, 2003

The Friday Five

1. Using one adjective, describe your current living space.
disastrously-messy (to protect the honor of Srah's Mother, Beloved of All Srah Blah Blah Visitors, I will point out that I'm talking about my room and not the rest of the house, which is pristine and only has this one horrific blight at the end of the hall)

2. Using two adjectives, describe your current employer.
helpful, disorganized

3. Using three adjectives, describe your favorite hobby/pasttime.
entertaining, enlightening?, lazy (watching movies)

4. Using four adjectives, describe your typical day.
hysterical, jargonriffic, stressed, mostly-happy

5. Using five adjectives, describe your ideal life.
happy, relaxed, entertaining, entertained, moneyed

First tuna, now Spam®

The 9-down clue in today's crossword was "Flipper". Mr B------ and I had filled in 22-across ("Teacher, at times") as "MASTER" and were trying to find a "Flipper" that fit into "SPAM--A".

We toiled endlessly until we finally had to admit to each other that the reason we couldn't come up with the answer was that we were both hung up on the idea of filling it in with "SPAMINA". What is spamina, you may ask? We have defined it as one's ability to eat large amounts of Spam® over a long period of time.

Spamina has nothing to do with flippers, of course, unless dolphins are big fans of canned meat. As it turns out, the "Teacher, at times" was a "TESTER" and the "Flipper" was "SPATULA".

We'll collect the moments one by one/ I guess that's how the future's done - Feist, 'Mushaboom'

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November 2003 archive

November 30, 2003

November 29, 2003

November 28, 2003

November 27, 2003

November 26, 2003

November 25, 2003

November 24, 2003

November 23, 2003

November 22, 2003

November 21, 2003

November 20, 2003

November 19, 2003

November 17, 2003

November 16, 2003

November 15, 2003

November 14, 2003

We'll collect the moments one by one/ I guess that's how the future's done
- Feist, 'Mushaboom'