Thursday, July 28, 2005

Computer Haiku

Inspired by a post from Crysanthemum, I offer these haiku, which I once received in an e-mail and dug up again for your pleasure:

A file that big?
It might be very useful.
But now it is gone.

Aborted effort:
Close all that you have worked on.
You ask way too much.

Yesterday it worked.
Today it is not working.
Windows is like that.

Printer not ready.
Could be a fatal error.
Have a pen handy?

First snow, then silence.
This thousand dollar screen dies
So beautifully.

Serious error.
All shortcuts have disappeared.
Screen. Mind. Both are blank.

With searching comes loss
And the presence of absence:
"My novel" not found.

The Tao that is seen
Is not the true Tao, until
You bring fresh toner.

A crash reduces
Your expensive computer
To a simple stone.

Three things are certain:
Death, taxes, and lost data.
Guess which has occurred.

You step in the stream,
But the water has moved on.
This page is not here.

And here's my personal favorite:

Windows NT crashed.
I am the blue screen of death.
No one hears your screams.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Damn you, Today Show!

OK, it's not even PMS time, and yet the Today Show, of all freakin' things, has made me cry two days in a row. They are doing a series they are calling "Christmas in July". You get it.

Yesterday it was a girl, a sophomore in high school, who had been born with spina bifida. It was her dream to go to the U of Oklahoma and become a doctor, to help children with spina bifida, of course. Her dad had run off when she was a baby when he saw how difficult it was going to be to care for her. Her mom and aunt raised her, and she'd had 50-something surgeries, including the amputation of one leg. Yet she was always hideously upbeat. So they brought her on the show, and the president of the U of Oklahoma awarded her a full ride there. She cried. Her mom and aunt cried. And yes, so did I.

Today, they featured a military family. Shortly after the husband had been deployed to Iraq, flooding hit the family's home, and it subsequently fell apart. The wife and two children had to live in their car, because the house was uninhabitable. Yet the wife kept her MP husband in the dark, because she didn't want him to put his life in more danger by being distracted with worry. She got help from a charity organization, but the contractors sent to fix the house did a shitty job and the roof was still half caved in. The Today show got Home Depot and JC Penney to donate a bunch of stuff--they fixed up the house, and even bought new school clothes for the kids. The family had gotten clothing from the Goodwill for their Today Show appearance. When their new house was revealed, the mother and daugher sobbed. The son was excited. They had the husband via satellite from Iraq--he thanked Anne Curry and kept calling her "Ma'am." Not only did I cry, I was actually near sobbing.

This has got to stop.

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Sunday, July 17, 2005


A confession: As a soon-to-be-bride, I have gift registries at several stores. I am unable to stop myself from looking at the registries, sometimes several times a day, to see what, if anything, has been purchased. I feel very guilty about this, and J says not to tell him anything because he wants it to be a surprise. I rationalize that there will still be some element of surprise--I don't know who bought which gifts. I am sorry for being a terrible person.

Thursday, July 14, 2005

Cop Hex

I think a police officer put some kind of curse (or hex? I like the word "hex") on me today. Pulling out of my office building's sidestreet onto the main road is usually challenging: a left turn is required, and there is usually a buildup of traffic in the lanes I am trying to get into. I have learned that one must be unusually aggressive and pull out into the road when no one is coming from the left, even if the traffic coming from the right is all jammed up at the light (meaning, I am pulling out, blocking traffic from the left, establishing my position and saying to the folks coming from the right "you see here, you must let me in, or we will all be fucked because my ass sticking out into these other lanes will cause a big accident and you'll be sorry.")

So anyway, I don't know if it's necessarily illegal to do this, but it has to be done if one is going to EVER get the hell away from the office. Traffic at the nearby intersection is a nightmare. Today at lunch I pulled the move in typical fashion. Mind you, I only do it when traffic from the left is stopped at a nearby light, so it's timed such that as soon as traffic starts moving, someone will let me in, and I will be out of the way by the time anyone might be close to slamming into the back end of my car. At lunch time and other rush hours, there is a traffic cop stationed at the intersection on the corner. Apparently he saw my move, for as I drove by the intersection, he extended his arm at me and pointed. Just pointed. And follwed my car with his pointy hand for as long as I looked at him, which felt like forever. Just long enough for a hex. I'll let you know of any ill effects.

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

I'm just saying.

The original version of Listen to Your Heart by Roxette is way better than that crappy attempt at a remake that I'm hearing everywhere I go. The remake just rides along slowly while, the whole time, you're waiting for it to just rock out. But it never does. It's wholly unsatisfying. Go Roxette.

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

As of today, I am 100%, completely, totally convinced that men get PMS, too. And instead of the bloating, cramping, and weepiness, they just turn into total BITCHES.

Monday, July 11, 2005

Our zoo now has an amphibian exhibit

On Saturday my tadpoles arrived from Uncle Milton (as in Uncle Milton' Surf Frogs; yes, that's the same Uncle Milton of ant farm fame). If you click on that Uncle Milton link you will see what kind of gift J has figured out will bring me great joy (in this case, the Uncle Milton Surf Frog Habitat). Did you notice the "Surf Shop" where the frogs can hide out? And how about that monster wave, dude? I will say that the excessive use of the word "dude" and phrases such as "surf's up" in the instruction booklet are the only thing about this gift I found annoying. But I suppose the intended "Ages 6 and up" demographic gets off on that kind of thing.

So, anyway, the nonhuman animal-to-human animal ratio chez nous has just been raised from 3:1 to 4:1 (8 nonhuman animals, 2 human animals). I promise I will not become one of those animal hoarders; I may be neglectful in emptying the litterbox, but I refuse to sleep on a sheet in the corner because the animals shit all over the bed and the couch. (I saw a woman like this on a show called Life of Grime on Discovery Health Channel. She had about 45 cats in her apartment, and had had to throw away the mattress due to fecal overwhelmance. Her walls were streaked with god-knows-what kind of feline eminations. She realized she couldn't handle all the cats anymore so she ended up surrendering most of them. Kind of sad--she meant well.)

Friday, July 08, 2005


So I'm sitting there alone, in my smallish, dankish apartment, hugely pregnant. J is not home. Effortlessly, I give birth to two, adorable, female twins. They are perfect, except that one of them has two tails growing out of the back of her head. Also, they are both orange tabby kittens that bear a striking resemblance to my cat Monty. While slightly concerned about the extra and misplaced tails, I am not bothered by the cross-species birth. I cuddle my new daughters. There is no attempt to breastfeed. I reach for the phone to call my mother, but decide to call J instead. "Twins!" I proclaim. "Both girls!" I do not bother to mention the fur, claws, or anything kitten-related. I consider calling my mother again, but do not.

I pace around the apartment. A neighbor pops in the door and either drops of or removes a large bag of wood shavings from the entryway, I am not paying much attention. I sit on the brown tweed couch, which is located about 3 feet from the television. I am sure something like Montel or Jerry Springer is on, but I am concentrating more on the increasingly squirmy kittens trying to get out of my lap. By the time J returns home, I cannot contain them in my arms or lap entirely, and I think the two head-tails have disappeared. My babies are normal. No one seems to think otherwise.

Then I wake up.

Friday, July 01, 2005

Sandra Day O'Connor has announced her resignation from the Supreme Court. The only reason I have put up with the Democrats' weak spines over the past year or two (letting Bush get away with his creepy fanatic judicial nominees, Terry Schaivo, not holding anyone accountable for this mess in Iraq...) is because I have been holding out a weak line of hope that they were saving their ammo for this very fight. Especially now as I read a preliminary list of potential appointees. This shit is SCARY, people! Among the supposed contenders:

-Alberto Fucking Gonzales. I doubt it's necessary to say much about the torture memo guy! Another example of Democrats giving in.

-Judge Janice Rogers Brown. Right-wing nutjob who describes the New Deal as "the triumph of our own Socialist revolution." Senate wimps let her right on through to the Court of Appeals.

-Judge Samuel Alito Jr. Voted to uphold spousal-notification rights for abortion in PA in 1991 (later ruled unconstitutional by the Supreme Court).

-Federal Judge Emilio Garza. In a 1997 opinion, he wrote that "ontological issues such as abortion are more properly decided in the political and legislative arenas.'' This does not sound like a good idea to me, but just to be sure I Googled the word "ontological". I found this:

Ontological arguments are arguments, for the conclusion that God exists, from premises which are supposed to derive from some source other than observation of the world — e.g., from reason alone. In other words, ontological arguments are arguments from nothing but analytic, a priori and necessary premises to the conclusion that God exists.
The first, and best-known, ontological argument was proposed by St. Anselm of Canterbury in the 11th. century A.D. In his Proslogion, St. Anselm claims to derive the existence of God from the concept of a being than which no greater can be conceived. St. Anselm reasoned that, if such a being fails to exist, then a greater being — namely, a being than which no greater can be conceived, and which exists — can be conceived. But this would be absurd: nothing can be greater than a being than which no greater can be conceived. So a being than which no greater can be conceived — i.e., God — exists.

My conclusion: politicians have a hard enough time with simple issues like flag burning and how much brain potential there might be in a vegetative woman, let's leave all this ontological gobbledeygook to be decided IN PRIVATE for god's sake.

-Judge Edith Hollan Jones. Would likely overturn Roe v. Wade.

-Judge J. Michael Luttig. Considered a moderate in comparison with the other nominees, though he has backed parental-notification abortion laws for minors and voted to strike down a law letting rape victims sue their assailants in federal court and to limit the scope of the Endangered Species Act.

- Judge J. Harvie Wilkinson III. Also voted to uphold parental notification laws and the military's "don't ask don't tell" policy. Considered the most conservative of the potential nominees. Did I mention he has also voted to strike down a law authorizing suits by rape victims?

To my representatives in Congress: PLEASE, I beg of you, show some spine!!! We are counting on you.