Saturday, May 10, 2003

Jeremy, I dreamed about blogger last night. I dreamed that they'd implemented an easy way to allow comments on each entry. (I'm addressing this to you since you're the one that whined about not being able to comment on my entries.) ;-)

Alas, it was just a dream. Or maybe a sign that I should get my butt in gear and figure out something like that for my page on my own.
I was reading Jeremy's blog this morning. He's doing a "100 things about me" list. Interesting idea.

I think it might be just as interesting, if not more so, to see a "100 things about So-and-So" list done be someone other than the subject, preferably someone who has been fairly close to them at some point in their life. I'm sure I'd list at least a number of different things about Jeremy than he would about himself, or vice-versa.

Perhaps I'll do a list like that sometime. Or perhaps I'll have a guest blogger do a list about me. Or both. 'twould be interesting to see how the two lists differed.

Friday, May 09, 2003

Wearing wet pants is remarkably unpleasant.

My washing machine broke while doing laundry the other day. The motor pooped out and it would no longer spin or drain. I hand wrung all the clothes and tossed them in the dryer, and then poof, partway through the cycle the dryer broke too. I was in a hurry and all my pants were in the load I was doing, so I wore a pair of slightly damp overalls and hung everything else up to dry.

The pants dried on their own fairly quickly (I was in the car and sped the process up by venting lots of air at myself), but the bit of time while they were wet was still pretty icky feeling.

Yay for dry clothes, and yay for working dryers. Mine is fixed now. I think. I hope. So says the note from the maintenance guy, anyhow.
I finished reading "Kitchen" by Banana Yoshimoto today. A bit of a light read, but really good. I thought of Jeremy while reading it; I think he'd really like it. Even the reviews at the beginning of the book lend that impression: "Ms. Yoshimoto's writing is . . . as emotionally observant as Jane Smiley's, as fluently readable as Anne Tyler's." -- The New York Times, Jane Smiley being one of Jeremy's all-time favorite authors. So Jeremy, if you're out there, you should check this book out. Good stuff.

I thought of Jeremy last weekend, too. I was working a dance workshop, and they fed us lunch from World Wraps. Yum. I think it's the first time I've had that since Jeremy moved back to Atlanta.

Monday, May 05, 2003

I just took a half-assed Myers-Briggs type test. It still listed me as INFP (I=22%, N=56%, F=78%, P=67%), same as I got on the more complete test back in my high school days. I'll have to dig around and see if I can find a more complete test on the net to see if it says the same thing.

According to the informational blurbs following, only 1% of the general population shares my type. A. A. Milne was an INFP. So is Calvin of Calvin and Hobbes, if fictional characters count for anything. Yay me. Yay Calvin. Yay Pooh.
Wired News, Making It Harder for Prying Eyes - "A bill in the California state legislature would protect the anonymity of Internet users by requiring Internet service providers to send customers copies of subpoenas seeking to learn their identities."

Cool stuff. I wish all states would do that.
There's no more coming back this way
the path is overgrown and strewn with thorns
They've torn the lifeblood from your naked eyes
cast aside to be forlorn

In the terms of endearment
In the terms of the life that you love
In the terms of the years that pass you by
In the terms of the reasons why

Funny how it seems that all I've tried to do
seemed to make no difference to you at all





I may take a holiday in Spain
leave my wings behind me
drink my worries down the drain
and fly away to somewhere new

Hop on my choo choo
I'll be your engine driver in a bunny suit
If you dress me up in pink and white
we may be just a little fuzzy 'bout it later tonight

Well, she's my angel -
she's a little better than the one that used to be with me
'cause she liked to scream at me
Man, it's a miracle that she's not living up in a tree

I may take a holiday in Spain
leave my wings behind me
drive this little girl insane
and fly away to someone new