Just so you know

I'm naming my first band Horizontal Verticality.

Have to be to class in 8 hours and can't seem to get sociology homework done.

Crap.

The Fall Classic

Although I fell asleep early last night and didn't watch the world series, I had a dream about it. My family had these kick ass seats at Fenway for Game II. I got a foul ball, only by stealing it from some little kids. The ball got stuck in caramel, the cover pulled off and the inside was filled with blue cotton that I turned inside out and stuck in my pocket. I guess the game was alright; I didn't seem to watch much of it.

I was looking for a quote from Miss Manners this morning about dating and came across this one instead - "It is far more impressive when others discover your good qualities without your help."

I really like this. I feel there is far too much shameless self-promotion in this world, today. I wish it would stop.

Ah, yes, and one more thing

Grats to Villi for buying a Prius. Looking hot, looking damn hot.

Pin cushion man - terror of balloonyland

Sick on Saturday with a headache, sick on Monday with a headache. Hungover on Sunday. I felt much in common with the pumpkins we lobotomized this weekend.

Sunday was fun because we had a nice dinner and then carved pumpkins. We used the patterns in the little book, and they turned out fabulously. Pictures below.

I did find this pattern a little erotic for a family-oriented pumpkin pattern, but that must be the Anne Rice lover in me.



Here are the rest of the pumpkins we did.












Got lots of responses to our holiday party invites. Yay.

The bimbo with the baby

This morning I woke up and stumbled into the bathroom. With my eyes still a little squinty from sleep, I looked in the the mirror and saw an uncanny resemblance to Vigo from Ghostbusters II. Gah. When did I get so old and scary looking?

A few days ago, at work, I had mixed up some raspberry ice Crystal Light in my Nalgene knock-off. It looked a peculiar color. When asked what it was, I muttered, "the blood of virgins, to keep me young." Now, I'm wondering where I can score some.

it's a reaction to love

I took music history, both I and II. We talked about polyphony, basso continuo, and all of these other contributions that advanced the style and sound of music. But nowhere in that class did we discuss the single best musical thing ever: double claps.

The new ingrid michaelson song, the way I am, has great double claps. As does the cars my best friend's girlfriend.

What's your favorite double clap song?

most of us need the eggs

What a fast, stupid weekend. I had film class from 9-4 both days this weekend. There are worse ways to spend a weekend than watching movies with 60 strangers and then discussing them, but there are better ways, too. It exhausted me, and I was in bed by 10 both Friday and Saturday night. No weekend, no sleep makes Stacy something something.

I know, just from this one weekend class, that online education is inferior in encouraging real learning. When you are worried about being called on or taking a closed book test, you pay attention, you contribute, and you have to learn since you have to focus. If I get rich and learn for learning’s sake, I will go back to a real campus and go to real classes. I enjoyed the lecture. Conversely, I was reminded of the reasons that I prefer to take online classes. Even for a weekend class, there were a lot of people there and many of them were getting on my nerves. Plus, on Saturday, there were like 300 medieval recreationists at the campus for something. It was Christmas in July, or more specifically RenFen in October. These people were hardcore. I saw several pairs of homemade shoes. I have to confess that I fell into an SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism) group in high school. I was working at a fabric store, and it became known that I played violin. An older woman named Sylvia invited me to join her music group. Turns out, they were a medieval SCA music group. Lute, guitar, harp, violin and singing. I went to two meetings, but then they started talking about my induction and my costume, and my homemade shoes. As a self-respecting teen-ager, I had to get the hell out of there or run the risk of falling in with the adventure game club set.

Strange.

I don't chase ballplayers

This entry is a little skittish. I have a lot of little weird things to say today.

1.Don’t you hate when you fall in love with people in stock photos? How are you supposed to find them? Or even know their name?

2.Today, when I got in my car, my odometer was at 3600 miles on the dot. It was the first time I can remember my odometer being at a perfect square. Now I will just have to channel my inner savant and start looking for those prime number mileages.

3.Go Al Gore!

4.I am not really pro-Rockies, since I am sick to death of all the stupid fair-weather fans talking about how much they have always loved the Rockies, when it is completely untrue. However, I will be supporting them throughout the series with the Arizona Diamondbacks. I thought the Rockies fans were secure as the dumbest baseball fans, but the Diamondback fans trumped the Rockies fans last night. Get over it. It was a good call in the seventh inning. Don’t throw things on the field. It is classless, and it just furthers the impression that you are a bunch of know-nothing knuckleheads that are completely clueless about the game. This is why I hate fake fans. They piss me off. Moreover, I don’t really get them. I don’t understand how you can truly celebrate a team if you have never mourned a team. It is as much about the wins as the losses. I do hope they keep winning, since people are in a better mood when the hometown team is winning.

'cause I love the way you say good morning

UPDATE: For all you folks getting here from the lyric in the title, I thought I would help you out by pointing you to Ingrid Michaelson's site.

I sometimes kid myself that I am really handy. Mostly, I have just been lucky. Even my official toolbox doesn't really make me much more official. I should remember this more often when I take on weekend tasks. Turns out, I wasn't able to cut a foot of length off my curtain rod with my dremel. Instead, I ended up with some metal splinters in my hand and a two pieces of rod that no longer fit together. I had to buy a new one. In preparation for throwing away my ruined one, I started to bend it into pieces. After I bent the pieces, I decided I liked the way they fit together, so I stuck it on my wall.


The official tally for the final harvest is-

One large pumpkin
Three large zucchinis
One small pickling cucumber
One baby cantaloupe (unripe/inedible)



I started thinking about the sheer amount of stuff I have to do for thanksgiving and christmas and got sick. I feel like October 9th is too early in the year to be worrying about this, but I guess not.

That said, think I will go watch some more TV and ignore both homework and laundry. Happy Tuesday, all!

I hope the evening finds you well

Yella borrowed Bitter is the New Black, like she asked for, and today, we were discussing it. What was weird is that I know I had written a whole, big thing about the book because the author made me so fucking angry but repeated trips back through the page revealed nothing. Then, I thought to check the drafts only and bada bing. I found the entry, which is below. But before we get to that, I just continue to be amazed by the joy and laughter my friends bring to our house. It always amazes me. Spending a Sunday with them is the best thing ever.

Also, in a series of coincidences, Limmy happened to bring up the fact that he finally knew who sang the song in the Old Navy sweater commercial. I don't know why he mentioned it, since we weren't talking about it, but I was ecstatic, because I have been meaning to track that song down for days. Limmy told me it was by Ingrid Michaelson, who might be my new girlfriend. Then, when I burned it for Limmy and we played the song, Yella and Mike realized they wanted the song, too. It was so weird that a) we all liked the same song from the old navy commercial and b) that it managed to come up tonight at our carnival dinner. My contribution to the carnival dinner was popcorn balls. Yum! I intend to post some pictures from this weekend, including the final vegetable harvest (holy canteloupe) and my first foray into metal sculpture. Peace!

Here is the original post from 7/13/2006!

I’m all jacked up on strawberry soda and I can’t go to sleep. Which is bad, because just today, I turned over a new leaf and decided to be get-to-work-on-time girl and this new leaf only works if I get to bed early enough to wake up on time. Tomorrow, I may turn over another new leaf and become no-persistence-or-follow-through girl. Please, like I ever stopped being that person. I even made it to work on time, despite staying up well past my bedtime to finish Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I’m officially 15 years old again. I should have been reading it under the sheets of my bed, by flashlight. I even cried when Cedric Diggory died and Dumbledore gave his speech to the students at Hogwarts. *Most fascinating discovery, both Dumbledore and Hermione are recognized by the spell check. Even more fascinating is that a quick check of my custom.dic file does not reveal that I have added either word. Talk about a cultural phenomenon.

So, I finished Goblet of Fire and MFS had to bring me Order of the Phoenix and I don’t want to do any of my required reading for school, so I plucked a new book out of the bag of delights Villi and I picked up this weekend at Barnes and Noble. It is called “Bitter is the New Black” and although I am only five pages into it, I am disgusted with it. This woman is just, quite simply, a beast. She prefaces the book by including every letter she had been sent admonishing her outrageous and presumptuous behavior and writes so flatteringly about herself, I wonder if maybe I am missing some subtle and delicious satire and this is how a down to earth girl imagines a raging, materialistic psycho would behave. Alas, it is not fiction; it is a memoir and it is disgusting. Since this woman seems to think pushy behavior is not only appropriate, but also encouraged, I think I will write her and ask for my money back, rather than returning it to the store. She will understand that for the sake of the bottom line at Barnes and Noble that, regrettably, I cannot return the book knowing that it is not defective in manufacture, only in content. We’d see how funny she thinks honesty and cruelty are at that point. And as a side note, she rants on and on about being the only person she knows with any style, but the picture she chose for the cover clearly shows white flowers in her hair with a dark colored bridesmaid's dress. I will tell you right now, no one who is photographed in this outfit has anything even approaching natural style. I’m almost ashamed to carry a Coach purse after reading the first chapter of her book. If I had read her bio, I wouldn’t have wasted my time. She is sales; I am support. It is a fundamental difference between people, on par with cats vs. dogs. Sales people lack a certain tact and quiet dignity that I find necessary. This author (ha!) reaffirms that belief.

Well, I’m starting to feel tired. The ranting and furious typing have sapped my energy so I will post this and snuggle into my new and clean sheets and try to go to sleep.

play the second note gently

I tend to stare up at popcorn ceilings or down at patterned floors and find faces in the swirls and textures of paint, tile, stucco, whatever. I stare at them for a long time and try to set their features. Then, I look away for 15 seconds. When I look back I try to see if I can find their faces again. Usually, I can't, and it makes me feel like a bad person for losing these people so easily.