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.

Who wants to go to town with a guy who drives a rowboat?

I am getting a sore throat. I am blaming the girl I don't like at work, who came back from her last trip coughing. More likely, it is caused by the fact that I sleep with the air conditioner on and pointing at my face all night. It is probably a bad idea, but I prefer it to the sweaty knees of my natural environment.

I turned in my last paper and finished my sociology final tonight. Huzzah for being done with another semester. I have made an August resolution that I must go to the gym while I am out of school. Ever since the representative from Merrill Lynch hosted the meeting and told us not to pay for things we don't use, like gym memberships, I have felt like my future wealth all hangs in the balance of whether or not I go to the gym. If I knew more about math and calculus, I would figure out what my $22 a month, compounded with interest, would be when I turned 70. But I've never been very good with math. I didn't have Winnie Cooper telling me to go for it.

I have a very vivid memory of failing a subtraction test in 2nd grade. I didn't carry any of the numbers, so I believe I got every answer wrong. It was the first time in my life that I completely failed to understand something. I always point to that, and ditching algebra II, to explain my completely disinterest in math. It would be nice to blame my teachers and society for encouraging the belief that math is harder for girls, but I know myself pretty well. In my youth, if I didn't instantly succeed at something, I didn't bother trying again. Math may have been the first casualty of that personality trait. To be followed by crocheting, playing the piano, speaking french, and learning bass clef.

To my credit, I used to know the decimal conversion for inches in a yard (all 36 values). I never thought I would work a job where it would be important to know that 4 inches is .167 yards, but then, I started working at Hancock Fabrics.

Walking towards the light

I am one semi-finished paper and a sociology exam away from being done with this semester. I just finished my final proposal for my business class. Aside from giving it a final proofread before submission, I am done with my business writing class.

Hallelujah. That must mean that the User Conference is around the corner. I'm not so bothered this year, since we don't have roommates. That makes the four days at Beaver Run way more tolerable.

I hardly know how I will spend my three weeks between semesters. Reading for leisure, no deadlines, most likely it will make me lazier than ever.

I will leave you with a quote from Mark Morford that amused me to no end, today.

"I mean, he's by far the worst president the United States has ever known and he's done more to set this nation back and embarrass us and create more terrorism and repress science and women and love and hope for all mankind everywhere. But oh my God, he's still no Dick Cheney. That guy makes baby unicorns bleed."