The best stuff on earth?

I am amazed at the blind trust I place in the USDA and my local grocer.

I was in the garden tonight, checking on my herbs, grabbing a few more zucchinis for the second round of bread making, and gathering a few of the adorable apples from my adorable tree. I finally got around to eating one of the apples but only after thoroughly cleaning it with soap and water. Something I never do to my fruit from the grocery store. Then, I remembered that last week, when I cooked with the zucchini, I treated the dinner with my parents as a trial run, making sure that no one got sick from the bread before I took it into work. No one wants to be responsible for a cholera outbreak in 2007. But why did I worry about this? Is my dirt dirtier?

I should rejoice in eating food that I planted and harvested myself, food that I know has never been sprayed with pesticide or weird hormones or anything, food that comes to me directly from my backyard, only being touched by a minimum number of people.

Food should be the opposite of the mail. Unlike mail, which gains luster and character with every stop, food loses a little of its earthiness and wholesomeness every time it is loaded on or off a truck. At the grocery store, I find myself drawn to the shiny, waxy, pyramids of fruit. Truth be told, though, it is so much prettier on the tree.

Wet Blanket

I was having a lovely dinner with my erudite, clever, professional librarian friends, and then I had to go and spoil it all by getting one of my famous headaches. It felt like something was burrowing out of my brain and into my right eye. I hung on for about 45 minutes and then made my apologies and left. On a brighter note, I did manage to make it all the way home before I threw up. I was terrified that I was going to have to throw up in the parking lot (which is so unladylike).

I do love hanging out with Beth, Erica, and Leslie. It's like being a kid and being allowed to stay up on New Year's Eve and drink a little bit of champagne, just like the grown ups. Sorry, all. We will do this again sometime.

I had other things to say, but work is already totally frustrating and now I have to troubleshoot missing data which totally sucks. It's amazing how quickly the day can turn sour.

Cake for breakfast

One of the things I like best about being a single adult with a chunk of disposable income is that I can decide what I want to buy and when. As a child, you are totally tied to what your parents will do for you; when you are married with children you can't recklessly spend money without that gnawing guilt in the back of your head that says, "in 19 years that purse, with interest, will pay for a half semester of college."

What that means is that if I get a whim to fly a kite (like this weekend) because I have never done it, I can just go buy a kite. Which I might do this weekend. I have never flown a kite. Watching TV last night, I was overcome with the feeling that it might bring me joy.

At some point, I may have to stop indulging in these childlike desires, but for now, off to the toy store.

sadness so real that it populates the city

I downloaded some Feist a few months ago, after reading it on Leslie's page. I hadn't listened to any of it until a few days ago when I finally found some time to give it a listen. Now, I can't stop listening to The Park. I have it on repeat a lot during the day, and it makes me want to do juvenile high-school things, like write the lyrics in my notebook or learn to play it on the guitar and sing it during the senior assembly.

Mostly, this entry is just a distraction from my homework. It was either this, or start underlining the letters in Gone with the Wind as they spell out the Declaration of Independence.

It is written in the stars

Google released the newest Google Earth build that has the "search the sky" feature. It lets you browse the universe and get close up pictures of galaxies, supernovas, star clusters and similar. It is beautiful. I could play with this all day.

E tan, e epi tan

Pictures of the garden-








I particularly like the picture of the grass reclaiming the chair and taking it back into the Earth. Plus, we have three pumpkins and my basil is doing fantastic.

Saturday night I cooked dinner for my parents that was heavy on the zucchini. I also made 7 batches of zucchini bread (i added lemon oil and it is fantastic). Then, we watched 300 on DVD, which was impressive on our lovely tv. When Leonidis leaves for war, Gorgo tells him to return with his shield or on it (hence the latin title) and then, later that night while I was reading Gone with the Wind, during the scene when Rhett leaves Scarlett to join the army, Rhett tells Scarlett that now is the time to tell me "to return with my shield or on it." It is stuff like this that makes me realize how not classically educated I am. I don't know jack about Plutarch.

Boo to starting the work week.

Stop, thief!

Although today has been appalling, I did manage to snag two baskets from a trash pile at work today. They are lovely.



They need to be lined with fabric and then they will be ready for the harvest. Driving to work today, I noticed that our zucchini has flowered over our back fence, which is appalling. This means that the zucchini had to grow out almost 8 from the house to the back fence, then another 6 feet up the fence and then another foot over the fence. This is why I can't maintain a garden.

Gah

will this week never be over?

Your pee-pee is a smooth muscle

continuation...

After the convent idea fell through, we came up with a different plan to make money outside of corporate America. We decided to open an exotic bakery, with a specialization in ornate, burlesque cakes. Again, this idea wasn't terribly thought out, considering that none of us have any baking or business skills. It is something we still talk about, and it prompted me to start a chick-lit book called "Baker's Dozen." Tuesday, it came screeching back into the forefront of my mind when, as I was walking out the door for work, I saw a pan of penis shaped cakes. They were covered in flesh colored fondant icing with toasted coconut for pubic hair. It was shocking, especially at 8 AM.

I didn't taste any of the cake, so I don't know if it is our key to financial freedom. That said, I will just get back to work.

the folly of youth

way back, about 4 or 5 years ago, I hated my job, which is nothing new. everyone around me, though, also hated their jobs, which makes for a strange and interesting and dangerous energy at work. at first, we channeled it into copious amounts of lottery tickets, kicking back at work and talking about how cool it would be to buy the house across the street and fly giant 'fuck you' banners at our current company. after several weeks and no powerball, we started to come to the conclusion that we were probably still going to have to work. we turned our attention towards finding something a little more us. enter the convent.

at the time, ebay was tout la rage and aside from ordering turkish movie posters and japanese deee-lite singles, we used to scan the interesting real estate auctions to see what sorts of crazy properties were up for sale. one day, we came across a 110 year old convent in alberta or saskatchewan or one of the bread basket provinces. the convent was in good shape, with an industrial kitchen, a refurbished tea room, and three floors just itching for renovation. we thought we could do it. we thought we could turn it into a b&b and a coffeehouse, with an ISP and co-location server on the side. we talked about financing and dual citizenship. we really and truly thought, let's do this.

i hadn't thought about the convent in years, but today, on his way across canada, damien stopped at the convent and took pictures. villi sent them to me via email and i immediately recognized it. now that we have all moved on or away, it was refreshing to see the evidence of our youthful fancy. it made me very nostalgic. i wanted to call someone from high school, just to say hello. then, i came to my senses.

here is our lovely convent. i still say ours because i'm still a might possessive of it.

in arenas other than food preparation

To me and most slightly techie people, ping refers to a utility used to test latency between two computers. To slightly douchey salespeople and project managers, it has become the hot new buzzword. It replaces paradigm shift as the phrase most likely to make me want to punch people in the face. Here is an example of its new usage.

Jim: Did you get those new sales figures in yet?
John: No, I'm still waiting for the raw data from Mike.
Jim: Okay, well if you need help with that, ping Joe and he can help.

Mary: What time is the meeting?
Jane: I don't know. I don't have the message handy.
Mary: Ping me with that when you get back to your desk. Thanks.

Every time I hear this phrase I just want to stab someone.

Over and out.

I demand satisfaction

I'm back. Still too worn out from the conference to really do anything. Been re-reading Gone with the Wind, since I haven't read it since 7th grade. That's all for now, except I wish I had some of them donuts.

The bullet train from Tokyo to Los Angeles

Final grades are nearly in. Two confirmed As, one very likely A. I'm quite proud of myself for getting good grades. One of the problems with online classes is that they tend to have running grade totals. A couple of times, I have got to the end of the semester seen that I have earned an 81% B and that is good enough for me. Not this semester--good for me.

Tonight the boss is taking the team to Tamayo for dinner. Haven't been there before, looking forward to giving it try and drinking lots of margaritas. That is the main appeal of the evening, margaritas.

We saw the Bourne Ultimatum last night at midnight, and considering, I am holding up pretty well. It was full of brooding Matt Damon and kick ass fight scenes. We will probably end up seeing it at least once more this weekend. Plus, David Strathairn is in the movie, in addition to being lots of fun to watch, he is one of my secret weapon's in 6 Degrees of Kevin Bacon. I'm probably unbeatable now.

Everyone have a good weekend.