Sunday mornin' comin' down

I made these human eyeball pincushions last night, using this flickr tutorial. (There are also some for sale in the Etsy store of the woman who made the tutorial.) It was very easy, and I like how disgusting they look. I even learned a new embroidery stitch for this project, so I would say I've accomplished everything I need to for the weekend. (Plus, I found a way to recycle those plastic 2L pop bottle caps, which are a key structural element!) Everything I do today is just gravy. And I may make actual gravy.

I made a Facebook album of my various craft projects. I know, how self-aggrandizing of me.

(Whoa... in the USA, what size are the big bottles of pop ["soda"]? 2 litres is such an ideal size! I know we have more in common that what divides us [awwww....] but sometimes I am just so disoriented by the idea of living in a world where things are measured differently. Also, I have decided to start refering to the United States as the "USA," or better yet the "US of A," because I think it has a retro, old-timey feel. Anyway...)

Otherwise, though, the weekend has been a bit of a bust so far as I felt bizarrely, unpleasantly ill yesterday due to what was likely one or more of the following illnesses:

• Toxic Shock Syndrome [I regularly become convinced that I have this, in spite of its extreme rarity]
• Sunstroke [Even though I was very sick before I ever went out in the sun]
• Air conditioning malaise [because the air that is breathed into my apartment by the air conditioning system smells and tastes funny]
• hunger [on weekends, I sometimes become so lazy about food that I basically don't eat any of it, and my body rapidly progresses past hunger to a headachey, nauseated, muscle-achey state. Since I do not diagnose this state as hunger, I conclude that eating won't help, and I get sicker. This happens a surprising amount, and yet I just don't learn. I am like a baby bird that cannot care for itself.]
• the flu [when I have flu-like symptoms, generally I only consider a flu diagnosis as a last resort.]

So I spent most of the day indoors, watching Lost (and singing the theme song), and when I ran out of episodes, James drove me to not one but two movie stores to get more.

I am actually being serious here when I say that true love is driving someone around on a Saturday afternoon to rent them more DVDs, because they are feeling sick and sad. Not to mention driving them to Wal-Mart so they can buy felt and embroidery floss to make pincushions shaped like human eyeballs. I have the best boyfriend in the world, internets. Our six-year anniversary is coming up at the end of this month--I may have to write a commemorative poem or something. (I mean, I certainly wouldn't have wanted to date 18-year-old me, so I would say James really took one for the team there.) And despite the impression this website may give, I actually love other things about him besides the fact that he drives me around. I can list some of these other things in the poem, maybe.

I gotta bounce.

I am going to finish watching Season 1 of LOST this weekend. I like that this show doesn't have a theme song, that the opening credits just play over the opening scenes. It leaves more time for medical-emergency, mystery-solving, baby-having, hatch-finding, subtitled-fight-picking, Sawyer-sulking drama. But I do kind of miss having a song I can sing along with--it helps to give TV shows structure. (I never tire of the Buffy theme song, and the little finger-dance that goes along with it. I still rock out to the Dandy Warhols' Veronica Mars theme song [We Used to Be Friends] every time I hear it. I like the Alias theme song, and the maraca-like chick-a chick-a sound I always feel compelled to make at the end of it. The only theme song that I cannot abide is Gilmore Girls' Where You Lead. CAROLE KING, KISS MY ASS!) So to fill the void left by the absence of a LOST theme song, I have written my own. It is very short, composed of the word "LOST!" sung only once, but it has a dramatic operatic quality that I think will appeal to the show's audiences. If I can ever reach them with it. Ideally, this song should be sung twice every episode, once when the open title appears, and once at the end as the credits begin. It takes all my singing talent to sing it, and I sing it well.

[Actually, the LOST theme song I have written has a sort of interesting history. Joss Whedon's production company, Mutant Enemy, has a little segment that plays at the end of his shows. (If you want to watch the youtube video, and why not?, it's here.) But in the musical episode of Buffy, the little monster sings his "Grr argh," in a very cute and musical way. And the LOST theme song is actually the word "Lost," sung to the tune of the musical "grr argh," if you can picture that--and if you can, please make a recording of it and send it to me, because your version of it based on my convoluted description promises to be hilarious.]

Happy weekend, internets! I'm going to start making out with Friday in approximately 26 minutes, and I suggest you do the same.

The one-blog challenge.

There are lots of subjects that I care about, but I don't really have time to read a lot about them, so I need to find one good blog to tell me everything important on a daily or near-daily basis. I read one blog about money (get rich slowly), one about fashion/celebrities (go fug yourself), one about design and crafts (how about orange), one about efficiency and tech (lifehacker), one about books and reading (50 books), and so on. I'm looking for a really good environment/sustainable living blog. I'm thinking about lighter footstep, and may give it a one-week trial. (Or a one-week FREE TRIAL!) Any other suggestions?

CYOA; new words.

Flickr photoset: The Mission Stencil Story, a choose-your-own adventure story graffiti-ed on the streets of San Francisco. "The mission stencil story is an interactive, choose-your-own-adventure story that takes place on the sidewalks of the Mission district in San Francisco. It is told in a new medium of storytelling that uses spraypainted stencils connected to each other by arrows. The streetscape is used as sort of an illustration to accompany each piece of text."

New words for the 07 Mirriam-Webster include "ginormous," "smackdown," "speed dating," and (be still my librarian heart!) "gray literature."

The happiest of all days, or at least, all copyright-law-related days

Did you know that today is Fair Use Day? Fair Use is the part of copyright law that lets you use copyrighted works in certain ways without the copyright holder's permission--you can quote or use excerpts for the purposes of criticism, satire, or educational purposes. We at deletia hq LOVE fair use because without it, I would be stuck writing nothing but 100% original material, all day long. Bo-ring!

Actually, we don't have fair use in Canada, we have something even vaguer called "Fair dealing." But I sometimes observe other countries' copyright holidays; that's just how I roll.

May I suggest you buy this? #4

Any of a large number of prints (the originals are portraits printed on novel pages--how novel!) by johnclark.

Originals $50 / Prints $10

My aspirations, such as they are.

I arrived at the university this morning, and from my position in the Tim Horton's line I could see the lush green of Quad, nearly empty, and dramatic charcoal-gray skies overhead, and I realized I wanted nothing more than to walk out into quad, lie on the grass in my dumb work outfit, and wait for it to rain on me. Then I would take off my shoes, walk home across the high-level bridge, shivering and wet, and curl up on my couch and watch the last three discs of Season 1 of Lost, all in a row. It's not like my dreams are unachievable--usually they're so small.

Instead I got my coffee and bagel and came to work and sat down in front of my computer. And in a moment I shall load Outlook Mail, and then the day will fall into place in front of me.

From the, town of Springfield, he's about to hit a chestnut tree

Vanity Fair has a Simpsons extravaganza in honour of the upcoming movie. Also featured is an interview with Conan O'Brien about his time as a staff writer for the show.

I think Mr. Burns was my favorite, because he had two qualities that are perfect if you're a comedy writer and want to have fun: he's infinitely old, and he has unlimited wealth. And he's evil. So, three. Those three qualities are great, because they allow you to create anything. A scene can open with him coming out of a hyperbaric chamber where he sleeps at night. He can have sinister robots. He can have a cavernous basement under his mansion. He can have a bat cave. There is literally nothing you can't do with Mr. Burns.

air miles, terrorists, emo bands, and voyeurism

From Wired: mileage runners find ways to fly cheap, long flights to accumulate air miles. "Of Solomin's five runs to date, one of the more impressive was a trip from San Francisco to Tampa via Los Angeles, San Diego and Washington, then back with connections in D.C., Seattle and Portland. Thanks to his Premier status, he earned double miles for the trip, more 16,000 of them, for just $232."

From Ironic Sans: Terrorist logos. Apparently, if you want people to take your terrorist organization seriously, you need to include guns and/or stars. Or better yet, two crossed guns. Same with emo bands.

One of the things I love about Flickr is that it gives you a chance to peek into other people's houses--albeit, the shots of their houses they think will most impress you. My new design porn is therefore Flickr's Fresh New Spaces pool. And also speaking of design, I am totally lusting after one of these huge 8x13 wall maps--doesn't it seem like something out of a Wes Anderson movie?

Finally, if I was ever home to install firefox add-ons, which I'm not, I would be installing this RSS ticker that updates RSS feeds to your status bar in firefox. Some of us just do not have time to wait for regular RSS feeds--we need a newer, faster instant gratification!

Still no titles for posts. Weird blogger.

Do you have any Grey Poupon?

i. At Cookies by George, i ask, "Do you have any little containers of skim milk?" and the woman working there says no, "but I could give you some in a cup." So I get a cookie and a cup of milk. Perhaps later I can order some chicken nuggets, or grilled cheese, or something else from the children's menu.

ii. there is a Coke machine in my building that actually sells cans of pop for $1, making it the last remaining machine IN THE WORLD to do so.

iii. I've never had a nickname, but in my last job, some of my co-workers took to calling me "JB," which i like. it's punchy. Someone at THIS job just called me that too. Perhaps as I grow older I become more nick-name-able. Or initials-able.

iv. i am engaged in three separate Scrabble games on Facebook, although at the moment i am only winning one of them. Fun! I think Scrabble plays throughout the day create thicker, bushier dendrites.

Also proponents of the Guns for Brains program.

The Zombie Food Pyramid.
From The Futility Closet: an optical illusion.

Another one of those weekends which seemed barely weekendy, at all. I woke up this morning feeling oddly disoriented and hungry from having tossed and turned all night. (Note: Why the cliche "tossed and turned"? It's not a particularly good description of bad sleeping, although it does have alliteration. I should say I rolled and woke up, intermittently.) I hate those nights were time seems interminable, incomprehensible, and you wake up feeling like you've lived an extra year during the night.

I did get to see the Transformers movie, so I guess not the whole weekend was lost. The movie was kind of good, by the way. I liked it a lot more than I thought I would. There is something inherently hilarious about trucks and cars that turn into giant, fighting robots--especially since the robots seem to contain a huge amount of metal, more than would fit in the cars and trucks. It's a mystery of mass, and filmmaking. Perhaps this is only funny because Transformers were not a part of my childhood, so I am a latecomer to their innate meanings and metaphors. Also, why do the Decepticons get to transform into much tougher, more useful vehicles than the Autobots, like tanks and fighter planes? That hardly seems fair. [James and I had a discussion about the idea of "transforming," and whether the Transformers' natural state is actually robot or vehicle. We decided that since, on their home planet, they presumably remain in robot form, they must be said to transform into vehicles, even though this may seem counter-intuitive within our human paradigm.]

I am taking a summer term class that starts tonight, the last of my degree. I am still working full-time, although "working" is not always the most accurate description of what I do while at work. I think the next six weeks are going to be exhausting, Internet. This morning, writ large. I may later wax philosophical about the last class of my graduate degree, but I already wrote a paragraph about Transformers that contained the phrase "counter-intuitive within our human paradigm," so I think I'm all pretentioused up for today.

Sometimes I get the feeling Facebook is surreptitiously using me for market research.

I tried to make a title for this post, but Blogger won't let me. So I shall informally name it, Untitled No. 2: A Sonata in B-.

lead us not into temptation

The current tagline for this site is a joke from Arrested Development, which I have just finished watching in its entirety. The Bob Loblaw Law Blog clip is on YouTube. (You may have to say it aloud to get the full impact.) It turns out there is a real guy named Robert Loblaw, and he used to run a law blog, but for some reason I don't find that as funny as I feel I should.

Why, why, why, Dehlilah?

Ok, well, you can take the girl out of the Warcraft but you can't take the Warcraft out of the girl. Or the other way around, possibly. Regardless, on one particularly ill-fated Gnomeregan run, the theme song for the Fighting Mongooses was written. I'm pretty excited that the complete lyrics are now available, to be sung to the tune of Stan Rogers' "Barrett's Privateers".

I was told we’d roam the caves for Gnomeregan gold
We’d fire no guns, shed no tears
Now I’m a broken elf on a Menethil Pier
The last of Danglar’s Privateers...

(Danglars is James's warlock.) Goddamn them all, I wish I was in Stormwind now, a little.

On another note, this is the 300th post since I moved this site over to blogger. I shall celebrate with a cocktail and a cold shower.

died from being boring

Did you leave a brown 70s-style polyester jacket at my house? I was cleaning out my closet (like Eminem... It's a metaphor, but that actually happened) and I found it. I swear I've never seen it before, except it seems like something I would buy from the thrift store. Anyone? Anyone?

Little red book? How about a little red blog.

From how about orange: Maopost.com, a website devoted to posters from Maoist China. Most exciting, you can submit a photo of yourself and have a custom painting made, in which you are rendered as a "socialist hero." That's so hot. If only I had 169 American dollars... There are also regular, non-personalized posters (actual posters, not copies) for sale, many of them featuring wholesome-looking Chinese peasants going about their wholesome lives, looking utterly untroubled by the acts of bloodshed perpetuated by their regime.* Right on!

After searching for a few minutes, the best relatively cheap similar posters (reprints, not originals) I've found are from China Books. I didn't know it when I woke up this morning, but my unexpected GST rebate cheque may be destined to buy posters. I am all about times of great political strife being reinvented as pop art.

I am so hungry, internet. I am like a hungry, angry baby. But I did quite a bit of real work today, including sending out some VERY professional-sounding emails, so I will be able to go home in 25 minutes with a song in my heart. Plus... and I know you've been waiting for news with baited breath... they fixed the air conditioning, or something! I'm not an air conditioningologist, but it's much much cooler in my office today. Now if only there was a cracker and cheese plate... and maybe some juice boxes... I would be the happiest digital-library-something-or-other in the world.

*I do not mean to suggest that the wholesome peasants are responsible for the regime of Chairman Mao. I realize that it was not their fault, and also, it was probably not their Best Political System Ever. After all, they probably got tired of teaching useless city-slickers how to do various wholesome peasanty things.

Inside-out teddy bears, and other mysteries of the Interweb

Via BoingBoing: Kent Rogowski's Bears. This artist makes art out of inside-out teddy bears. You can also read an interview with him. "The bears resonate with people because the act of how a bear looks when you’ve turned it inside-out directly challenges all of the layers of meaning and nostalgia that we place on teddy bears. I imagine most things would look strange or ugly if they could be turned inside out."

The blog Swapatorium has the slogan "A journey through junkland," which is something I can 100% get behind. The most recent post is about a beautiful picture made of pills covered in mod podge. The kitsch! Boy, people from the past were crazy!

Razr and iPod: A Love Story

To answer the unspoken question: yes, I do find myself endlessly amusing. Please notice the soft lighting.

How hot it is on the 6th floor

1. It is hot enough that I sit absolutely still (except for my typing fingers) and pretend I can feel the movement of individual air molecules.
2. It is hot enough that I make excuses to wander down to the cool(er) (slightly) end of the office-- "I need to fill up my water bottle!" As a result, I drink several litres of water a day.
3. It is hot enough that instead of having its usual calming effect, the otter cam just makes me angry. Ever since I first visited the otters, I have admired their lifestyle, but today I just feel embittered. Stupid otters--I hate them! You can bet it's nice and cool in their stupid otter pool!
4. It is hot enough that when I walk down the stairs to the 5th floor, hitting the wall of properly air-conditioned and circulated air is like walking into a cave, or a basement.
5. It is hot enough to make my job just a little bit unbearable.

Linky Mondays--On Tuesday?!?

Earlier I mentioned that 7-Elevens are being converted to Kwik-E-Marts as advertising for the Simpsons movie. This Flickr photoset shows one of the converted stores. I'm sad because it is more obviously Simpsons-y than I had hoped it would be, and less cinema verite. I wanted to walk into one of these 7-Elevens and think, "Whoa, this is like being in a real-life Kwik-E-Mart," not, "Wow, this is like being in a giant commercial for the upcoming Simpsons movie." Simpsons movie: I'm watching you. And I'm wearing my "Worst Episode Ever" shirt.

A sad article about the state of Romanian zoos. Romania's entry into the EU has meant tougher regulations for zoos. My favourite part is the allegation that "less valuable zoo animals had been killed as food for more expensive reptiles." Stupid expensive reptiles! God loves all the animals, even the smaller lemurs and muskrats!

Joss Whedon, aka Jocelyn's TV Hero, is auctioning off a number of items for charity, including a dinner with him in San Diego during ComciCon. Described as "Three hours of intimate conversation, hilarious anecdotes and dark, awkwardly personal secrets." Hot. (Although, I'm not convinced that dinner with Joss Whedon would be that great an experience. I have never had any desire to meet celebrities, even the ones I really admire. I don't want them to sign things, or pose for pictures with me, or anything. Mainly, I want to watch the films and television shows they make in the comfort of my air-conditioned living room. Maybe I'm just not that kind of fan.) (The auctions support Equality Now, which advocates for women's rights. Again, hot.)

Today is Tuesday, but it's like an honourary Monday, because it was a long weekend. I like Canada Day. It reminds me of Canada. I also like July, because it is a three-paycheque month. However, I do not like Tuesday. It makes me uncomfortably hot. Also, I am engrossed in the third season of Arrested Development and the first season of Lost. Did I mention how air-conditioned my apartment is? Le sigh.

The long weekend happened.

Apparently. A few days just vanished into the abyss. You know? I'm concerned about the abyss. It didn't really feel like that much time went by.

This morning so far: a recap.

6:50: Wake up. Lie in bed for one minute. Look at clock. Realize I can go back to sleep.
6:52-7:21: Try to get back to sleep. Become convinced the air conditioning in my apartment is suffocating me with its disgusting, stale smell. Open window; turn off air conditioning; still can't get back to sleep.
7:22: Get up. Yes, my alarm clock goes off at 7:22. If there is one thing I have learned from my father, it's that there's no reason to do things only at times that end in :00, :15, :30 or :45.
7:23-7:33: Defrost and toast bagel. Check email. Burn bagel. Decide not to eat burnt bagel.
7:34-7:50: Get dressed. Brush teeth.
7:50-8:20: Go to the bank. Go to work. Bank is necessary because I need Tim Horton's for breakfast, but the T-Ho's in CAB only takes cash, so the morning has suddenly become more complicated.
8:20-8:28: Get breakfast. Get to work relatively on-time. Too hot to drink coffee.

(That's right, I wake up at 7:22 to leave my house at 8 and get to work at 8:30. I do this because there is almost nothing that is more important to me in the morning than sleeping, so I have reduced my morning schedule to its fastest, most minimalistic possible format. 7:22 is the latest I can wake up and still get to work on time looking not-disgusting.)

Also, in order to get to my current position, in the past hour I have gone: down nine stories in an elevator, down one flight of stairs, down one escalator, up three escalators, down one flight of stairs, up two flights of stairs, down one flight of stairs, up six stories in an elevator, and then up one more flight of stairs. I'm so tired. Not because it's physically exhausting, it just seems endlessly complicated. I feel like I'm staring into the abyss.

I'm at work and it is WAY too hot to do anything.

Over the weekend I met a little girl at a party. She was 8, and the niece of a friend. We got to know each other in the way 8-year-olds customarily do: by making lists of our favourite and least favourite things in various categories.

Little girl: Who is your favourite boy singer?
Jocelyn: Oh, I don't know... maybe Elvis Costello.
Little girl: Mine is... I don't know if you've heard of him... Justin Timberlake?

I am now so old that children do not know how old I am. They just think I'm a grown-up. As far as that little girl knows, I could be 100. I could live in some other, grown-up world, without Justin Timberlake.