I know a bunch of you were worried about my no wallet, no HOL situation from yesterday. I appreciate your concerns and kind thoughts. Luckily, the gods intervened, roommate Sarah came to the rescue, and my wallet, my fancy copy of House of Leaves that mathgimp bought me for my birthday, and I were able to attend Mark Danielewski's reading.
First of all, DC "literary" "critics" are douche bags. They were "casually chatting" about the notion of harmony and resonance in Rousseau as filtered through Derrida. Bite me. I hope I've never sounded like that.
Second of all, I realized that I very rarely go places alone that you're "supposed" to go with other people. Sometimes I see movies by myself, but that's about it, really. People (at least these people) spend a lot of time looking askance at all of us solo folks. Again, I invite you to bite me.
Despite the awfulness of my companions for the evening, seeing Mark Danielewski speak was one of the more transformative experiences of my life. The man's a self- actualized genius. His energy captivates the entire room. There are two experiences I've had that compare: seeing Ani DiFranco in concert and seeing Bill Clinton speak. I think it's being in the presence of the real thing. I got to chat with him for a few minutes afterwards, and it's still with me today. It was actually an honor.
If you get a chance to, see the man speak. Seriously.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Amazing experience
Obvious article of the day
I usually like relationship/communication/interpersonal articles. I was particularly excited to read this one: "Friends with Benefits, and Stress too," in today's New York Times. Read it - it's short - but lame. The article's conclusion? About 60% of folks have a friends with benefits type relationship. It works well, but brings some stress, cause people are worried about the whole commitment thing. For the most part though, people are happy.
Yep. Sounds about right.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Time to start thinking of holiday gifts...
The perfect gift for anyone old or young. Or named Sarah.
Description: Printed on strong, thick, medium glossy paper, the helmet consists of 19 parts, on four A4 sheets, which need cutting out, folding and glueing together. With an inside circumference of ca. 63 cm (24.8 inches) it should be large enough for even most adult heads. For children using cotton wool, or other material as wadding should help with the fitting of the helmet to the smaller head.
My boyfriend is awesome
Good work, Pete!
Be sure to look at the slideshow. He has spent a lot of time working with ABC (not to mention risking his life to take the pics) to make this a quality story.
Run-in with the most pathetic would-be robber in B.A.
I have lived an robber-free life ever since my bicycle was snatched from the neighborhood pool one afternoon when I was 10. Sadly, this streak ended yesterday.
I was walking down the street in my neighborhood, in the middle of the afternoon, minding my own business. I was reading a book, which I am apt to do while I am walking. Nonchalantly, a guy about my age approached me from behind and started strolling with me.
I thought I was about to get hit on. Turns out the only hitting would be done by me. He had his hand stuck under his jacket, and he says to me, ever-so-casually (and in Spanish of course): "I have a gun under my jacket. Don't say anything, just give me all your money."
I was stunned, but I was also 98% sure that he didn't have a gun under his close-fitting jacket. I stammered (in Spanish), "I'm sorry, what are you talking about?" He thought I just hadn't heard him, correctly, so he repeated his spiel. To simplify matters, he slowly said, "Give me the money in your bag" while pointedly jabbing at my bag.
I said, very politely, "I'm sorry, I don't understand anything that you're saying." He stared at me in disbelief, and he finally realized that I was a foreigner and very likely could not understand anything he was saying. Apparently this complicated things a bit too much for him, or maybe he just had a sense of humor, because my would-be robber cracked up and tried to pat me on the back. At this point, I was disgusted by the whole interaction, and I hit his arm to get him off of me (I know, probably not the smartest thing for me to do).
Surprised, he backed off and hopped onto a bus. This guy is such a scum bag. Apparently his schtick is to walk around in the middle of the day, in nice neighborhoods, targeting women walking by themselves. All in all, the whole thing really pissed me off, but unfortunately this is one of the sad consequences of a country in the middle of such massive economic problems. Luckily, my accent was bad enough to save me from harm.
Good day on ze interwebz
[Updated to include link to rape story]
As Smed just reported, we won the War on Drugs. It's over. Why? Prices for coke are sky high (hehehehe) -- and clearly that can't have anything to do with inflation, cause it doesn't exist.
Glen Greenwald posted a completely fascinating article by Norman Podhoretz, written in 1963, where he talks about hating "Negroes," a lot, because they were mean to him when he was little, and he just can't seem to shake that feeling of black hatred in his heart. Who is Norm? Why do we care? He's Rudy's foreign policy advisor. Incredible. The article is 100% worth reading. [Link is towards the bottom}.
Digby's got a good bit on intelligent design crazies which I thought might interest mathgimp, and anyone else out there with a pulse.
In updates from last week, the number of sick fucks increases. Remember the prosecutor who was arrested for crossing state lines to have sex with a three-year-old? Well, apparently someone beat him to it. The entire story's completely bizarre and gruesome and awful. Short version: man rapes 3-year-old girl, apparently while the kid's mom was at work. No one finds out about it until 4 years later, when a tape of the rape surfaces somewhere in the desert. Some dude found the video tape...held on to it for a while...was arrested for child pornography...people said "wow! this is real!" And everyone said "well, I'm glad we've found out, but the kid's happy, so why are we bringing it up?......" Here's the link. People disgust me.
The Junta in Burma just turned off the internet. CNN has video footage of the soldiers beating civilians. Thousands are being reported dead, and monks bodies are being dumped in the forest. All for democracy. British papers like the Daily Mail are doing a nice job covering the story, with some pretty remarkable photos.
Oh, and Bush vetoed SCHIP (State Children's Health Insurance Program) despite - get this - 86% approval amongst the American public. Voters support reauthorization regardless of political party, with 77 percent of Republicans, 86 percent of Independents and 93 percent of Democrats supporting reauthorization.
That's more bipartisan than Santa Claus. And yet, Bush's 4th veto. Amazing.
Breaking News!
Hey, we're not doing so hot with that Iraq War, but by God, you can chalk up that pesky War on Drugs as officially WON by the US of A. Take THAT, terror! God bless you, Ronald Reagan!!
Wednesday morning updates
Today is a jumbled sort of day, me thinks. I left my wallet at home, but remembered my lunch. I could only do half the crossword and half of sudoku before I got bored. I kept mixing up the six different passwords I need to log onto my computer at work. It's Wednesday. There are some things I know for sure, however.
1. Response was muted to both my turtle story and Smed's hilarious suicide via llamas story (What? No animal lovers in the crowd?). Lisa, our sole commenter, asks "is that photoshop? surely not real...but what if it was??!" I am delighted to make Lisa's morning just a little bit better by reporting that, to the best of my knowledge, the story's real. Not only did I first read it in the famed Washington Post Express, but reputable sources such as USA Today, Yahoo News, and AZCentral.com are all reporting that a pet shop in Norristown, PA does in fact have the conjoined twin turtles. The turtle is the size of a silver dollar, has a set of feet on either side, but just one set of back feet and one tail. I think it might be my totem animal. If only I had waited another month to get my tattoo....
2. The second thing I know for sure is that I am crazy excited to be leaving for Texas on Friday. I need to get out of this state for a few days.
3. I also know that I will never understand the deep intricacies and mysteries of the DC metro system. I don't know why they have to raise prices again to continue to provide shittier service than any other developing country in the world at a much higher price. I don't know why they're planning to install LCD screens in stations, but my only guess is they think if we can watch TV, we won't notice that we've paid $5.00 to wait 45 minutes for a damn train.
But even though I wouldn't let the transportation board plan a lobster dinner for my five worst enemies, I generally trust my fellow commuters (if not the tourists) to help me maintain a sense of normalcy. But lately, I've had this experience. Extremely large men who sit on the opposite end of the train from me and insist on blaring Celine Dion, Mariah Carey, or Whitney Houston so loudly that the rest of the train can literally hear every word. Why? Why? Why? I miss my iPod, which was stolen on the metro. The metro giveth music, and also taketh away.
Come to think of it, 4: Even though I covet my metro bubble of aloneness, the metro is slowly killing all that's good in my life.
5. Scrabble on Facebook will be my undoing.
6. Arrrg. Mark Danielewski [of House of Leaves and Only Revolutions fame] is speaking at Olsson's tonight in Dupont. I really want to go, but have no wallet and no copies of my books by him. Perhaps roommate Sarah can come to the rescue.
7. Now we've devolved into nothing but my random thoughts... I'll be back later.
Love
me
Monday, October 1, 2007
Suicide via Llamas
Pete and I went on a tour during our Chile vacation that was...not...very...enjoyable.
We went on a tour in northern Chile that promised us a view of the Chilean desert and amazing geysers. The downside was that it was going to start at 4 in the morning and last till noon. But hell, they were going to give us breakfast and I had never seen a geyser! Pete was less than enthused, but I insisted that we go on the Great Geyser Excursion. Here is a breakdown of our day.
3:30AM Alarm goes off. Pete almost convinces me to go back to sleep. I am excited about geysers and push him out of bed.
4:00AM We go and wait for the van to pick us up. It is dark and cold.
4:15AM We wonder where the van is.
4:30AM We discuss going back to bed.
4:40AM Van arrives 40 minutes late. Driver announces to sleep if we can, because it is a two hour drive and it's not going to be very comfortable.
4:45AM I discover the road is so bad I am thrown up into the air several inches every three seconds or so. No sleep will be had.
5:15AM Pete's stomach is upset, and the road (or lack thereof) is not helping the situation. The day does not appear to be promising.
6:15AM We arrive at the geysers park. I am silently thankful that neither Pete nor I were carsick.
6:16AM The two ugly prune-faced German women ("The Prunes") who have been sitting in front of us get up to exit the vehicle. One of them flings back her arm rest into my thigh. It hurts.
6:20AM We disembark from tour bus to find out that it is 0 degrees Fahrenheit. I'm wearing jeans, a jacket, and sneakers covered in hearts.
6:30AM We take a look at the geysers. Are you picturing Old Faithful? No, no. They are little bubbling holes in the ground. There's lots of steam coming from them because it's flipping 0 degrees.
6:30AM My feet feel tingly and hurt from the cold.
6:32AM I start laughing uncontrollably and wrap my scarf around my head. Yes, this is captured on video. See Pete for tape.
6:34AM I decide that geysers aren't very interesting. Still laughing strangely and feeling alienated from the tour group, who all seem fascinated by looking at geyser after geyser.
6:40AM I go back to wait in the van until people are done looking at geysers.
7:00AM Breakfast is served. Breakfast is stale fruitcake, salami slices on Bimbo bread, and powdered coffee.
7:20AM Pete decides to go take one more look around. On the way out, he tries to make a joke by flinging the armrest onto my thigh a la the Prunes.
7:21AM I burst out in tears from the exhaustion and the sudden armrest-to-thigh pain.
7:22AM Pete feels really bad. It's ok, Pete. It would have been funny if it wasn't 7:22AM.
7:45AM We get back on the "road."
7:46AM Guide makes a short announcement. (Guide is terrible and not informative in the least, by the way). One of the Prunes sharply "SSSSSSHHHHHHes" Pete. Pete is insulted by the Prune's sub-par communication skills.
9:00AM We arrive at a different geyser location. Prunes exit, and in the process, fling the armrest onto Pete's thigh. It hurts.
9:01AM These geysers look very similar to the original geysers. However, there is a hot spring bath at this location. Unfortunately, it is lukewarm. The day has warmed up to a balmy 30 degrees F.
9:30AM Pete and I find a hot spot in the bath and decide to get in. This part was actually pretty fun. There were 3 old people who would jump out of the water and squeal whenever they got hit with a particularly hot current. Also, another older man accidentally mooned the crowd and got a big applause for it.
9:50AM Time to leave the hot springs. I have to get dressed behind a wall in the below freezing weather. I shouldn't have laughed at the man who mooned everyone.
10:00AM Back on the "road." wooooot.
10:10AM We see llamas. Llamas are neat. A Prune insists we stop the van. Llamas are not stop-the-van neat.
10:30AM We see flamingos swimming. Flamingos are very neat. A Prune insists we stop the van. Flamingos are not stop-the-van neat.
10:45AM We see ducks. Ducks are not very neat. A Prune insists we stop the van. Ducks are definitely not stop-the-van neat.
11:00AM We stop at a native "village" consisting of about 10 little houses. Prunes armrest us on the way out. I pay eighty cents to use the bathroom and buy Pete and I fried cheese empanadas. My cheese empanada turns out to be the second-best part of the whole day.
11:10AM Pete wanders off towards the desert threatening suicide via llama. I don't know what it means, but I am worried. Things are grim.
11:15AM I meet the CUTEST CHILD IN THE WORLD, who lives in this tiny village. I will post some pictures and you will understand what I mean. He and I chat for a while about the pictures he is drawing, and I am smitten. If his mother had been very ill and unable to care for the child, I would have taken him back with me to the United States and raised him. This is not a joke. I asked him how old he was, and he said three. Then he said (in Spanish of course), "Wait, wait. I need to ask mom. Mom, how old am I?" "You're 4, dear." "Oh right. I'm 4." I desperately searched through my bag for something to give him. All I had was a highlighter. I gave it to him, and he was absolutely delighted.
11:40AM Pete drags me away from the child because it's time to move on to the next location. I kiss the child and call him an angel. "That's kind of weird, Sarah," Pete says.
11:41AM Van time. I am relieved because I think this 8-hour hellacious experience is going to end soon.
12:00PM Tour is scheduled to end at this time. Guide announces that as our last activity, we are going to go on a one-hour hike in the desert to look at cacti.
12:01PM Pete and I stare at each other in disbelief and terror.
12:02PM Prune armrests me.
12:03PM We start trudging through the desert.
12:20PM Pete and I realize that it's not that enjoyable to look at cacti in the middle of the desert at noon. We leave our tour group (who we have completely alienated ourselves from) and return to the van to wait out the cactus viewing portion of the program.
1:00PM One hour behind schedule, the van embarks for San Pedro, our starting point. I'm really hungry.
1:30PM Pete gets the final brunt from the Prunes' armrest rage.
Now look, I realize what you might be thinking. Something along the lines about how I am a spoiled brat who should enjoy tours in Chile even if she is cold and on an uncomfortable road. But you know what? You can go to hell. I do like seeing amazing sights, even if it is a bit uncomfortable. But these were not amazing sights, and it was a step beyond uncomfortable. Everyone in our group appeared to be a bit demoralized and unhappy upon reaching the end of this really, really long day.
One other thing did make me happy (besides the empanada and the child). We got off and I said goodbye to the terrible guide who had made little to zero effort to drag this awful experience even a little bit out of the sludge. "Do you know about the guidebook 'Lonely Planet?" I asked him. "Yes, I do," he said, suddenly interested in speaking to me. "Well, I am a writer from Lonely Planet. Now I have to write a review of your tour." He seemed taken aback. "I hope it's a good one..." he responded. I said nothing and walked away.
Remember Horatio?
Some of you have been around long enough to remember Horatio Mortimer de Juan Pablo III, the red slider turtle I had a pet for a long time.
We rescued him from Dia's pool on Labor Day, 1998. He hung out for a really long time, until he grew so big we had to put him in my parent's aquarium. He was really happy there, but my mom's expensive fish started disappearing. Tommy and my dad dug a turtle pond in the backyard, where he lived, until one day he set off to see the world, and was never seen again.
He was a good and noble turtle. Imagine my surprise when I opened the paper this morning to find out he was reproducing! Only an utterly badass turtle could father something so simultaniously adorable and awesome. After the jump, Horatio's offspring: