Since giving up the left hander book I've already finished Douglas Coupland's All Families Are Psychotic!
This is my third Coupland book, and only the second of his fiction. (I'm counting "Dictator Style" as nonfiction even if the bookstore had it in the humor section.) This was funnier than "Girlfriend in a Coma", but you have to immediately suspend disbelief almost from the first page, as the family and the situations they stumble into through their own dysfunctional interactions get more and more outrageous. In the last half of the book, every chapter was an exercise in "Oh my God, now what?" but it stayed funny the whole way through.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Monday, June 11, 2007
Mystery of Moo Face
Today when I got home from work there was a flyer for one of the local fitness centers stuck in my door. When I stopped to pull it out, I noticed this on the porch:
I shook my fist in outrage.
“Moo Face? Have I gotten so fat that people are leaving me notes implying that I’m a cow? Who was it? Two Jobs Girl? Porch Pots Lady? Rescue Dog Matron? Which one of them did this?”
I took my letter to Moo Face inside and opened it, where I discovered that I am not Moo Face:
(Click that to make it bigger.)
While I’m no longer enraged at my neighbors, I’m filled with questions. Did Moo Face drop this, or was it a letter that Kristina never had a chance to deliver and has carried around for three years? Why would either of them carry it around for three years? Did something happen to Kristina, or Moo Face?
Did something happen to both of them?
What if the letter is cursed? What if I take it home and unfold it and read it and then I wake up in the middle of the night and Moo Face is standing over me with an axe screaming, “Kristina’s back from Hilton Head!” and then I get hacked to pieces like Joan Crawford’s husband in “Straight Jacket” and one of the cops or ambulance workers who comes in to carry out my body picks up the note and then that night he wakes up and Moo Face is standing over the bed?
What if I hadn’t watched so many bad horror movies when I was little?
I left the letter on the porch in case Moo Face comes back for it.
I also locked the door.
I shook my fist in outrage.
“Moo Face? Have I gotten so fat that people are leaving me notes implying that I’m a cow? Who was it? Two Jobs Girl? Porch Pots Lady? Rescue Dog Matron? Which one of them did this?”
I took my letter to Moo Face inside and opened it, where I discovered that I am not Moo Face:
(Click that to make it bigger.)
While I’m no longer enraged at my neighbors, I’m filled with questions. Did Moo Face drop this, or was it a letter that Kristina never had a chance to deliver and has carried around for three years? Why would either of them carry it around for three years? Did something happen to Kristina, or Moo Face?
Did something happen to both of them?
What if the letter is cursed? What if I take it home and unfold it and read it and then I wake up in the middle of the night and Moo Face is standing over me with an axe screaming, “Kristina’s back from Hilton Head!” and then I get hacked to pieces like Joan Crawford’s husband in “Straight Jacket” and one of the cops or ambulance workers who comes in to carry out my body picks up the note and then that night he wakes up and Moo Face is standing over the bed?
What if I hadn’t watched so many bad horror movies when I was little?
I left the letter on the porch in case Moo Face comes back for it.
I also locked the door.
Saturday, June 9, 2007
out of town visitors
Kim and Kevin came to town yesterday so that Kevin could go to a convention, and I met them out at their hotel last night so that we could go to dinner. I squeezed them into my car (they’re not fat; putting any group of people into a bug automatically qualifies as squeezing) and took them out to Buddy’s for barbecue. After a quick trip to Super Target we split up for the night, and then this morning I picked Kim up while Kevin went to the convention.
I took Kim to the used bookstore, where we spent hours and hours walking around. I picked up four books, but Kim must have gotten at least a dozen, and I thought we’d have to pry her out of the store with a crowbar even after Kevin called. Once he called, we drove out to campus to meet him, and then went to get sandwiches for lunch at McCallister’s.
Or McAllister’s.
I can’t remember the name even though I’ve driven past or seen ads for it plenty of times. We ate inside, because it’s hot today, but had a lot of fun watching the birds outside pick apart the food on the tables waiting to be bussed.
After lunch we went to buy t-shirts, and then I drove them around campus for a tour.
There’s not really a lot to see on campus on a non-game weekend, especially in summer, and they had to get back on the road soon, so we wrapped up with a quick trip to the gardens.
Other than making a big, oven baked homemade mac and cheese tonight, I don’t really have anything planned for the rest of the weekend.
I took Kim to the used bookstore, where we spent hours and hours walking around. I picked up four books, but Kim must have gotten at least a dozen, and I thought we’d have to pry her out of the store with a crowbar even after Kevin called. Once he called, we drove out to campus to meet him, and then went to get sandwiches for lunch at McCallister’s.
Or McAllister’s.
I can’t remember the name even though I’ve driven past or seen ads for it plenty of times. We ate inside, because it’s hot today, but had a lot of fun watching the birds outside pick apart the food on the tables waiting to be bussed.
After lunch we went to buy t-shirts, and then I drove them around campus for a tour.
There’s not really a lot to see on campus on a non-game weekend, especially in summer, and they had to get back on the road soon, so we wrapped up with a quick trip to the gardens.
Other than making a big, oven baked homemade mac and cheese tonight, I don’t really have anything planned for the rest of the weekend.
Friday, June 8, 2007
I'm a quitter
I’ve been trying to read the same book since the first week of April, and I’ve finally surrendered and given up. Usually I read a book in a week or maybe two weeks if it’s long, so taking this long on one book and not even being halfway through it is kind of like slamming my hand in a car door repeatedly. Each time I pick it up and try to read another page it feels like I’m getting poked in the eye with a railroad spike, but now that I finally gave up on it, I have a nice, crushing feeling of failure, since I haven’t put a book down without finishing it since junior high.
It’s a lose/lose situation.
I was trying to read Stanley Coren’s "The Left Hander Syndrome". I’m left handed, so a book that claimed to be able to tell me how I got that way, if it’s true that I’ll die sooner than right handed people, whether or not I’m more creative, and a number of other questions seemed like it would be interesting.
It wasn’t.
It’s like Coren had someone go through and remove any metaphor, any analogy, any attempt at colloquial language, and did their best to make this as boring, dense, and dryly academic as possible. Granted the subject matter doesn’t seem like it should really set the world on fire or that it would be a gripping page turner, but reading this was a terrible experience.
It’s a lose/lose situation.
I was trying to read Stanley Coren’s "The Left Hander Syndrome". I’m left handed, so a book that claimed to be able to tell me how I got that way, if it’s true that I’ll die sooner than right handed people, whether or not I’m more creative, and a number of other questions seemed like it would be interesting.
It wasn’t.
It’s like Coren had someone go through and remove any metaphor, any analogy, any attempt at colloquial language, and did their best to make this as boring, dense, and dryly academic as possible. Granted the subject matter doesn’t seem like it should really set the world on fire or that it would be a gripping page turner, but reading this was a terrible experience.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
special thursday
The SUV in front of me on my way home this afternoon had two “Fred Thompson 2008” bumper stickers on the back, one on either side of the red, white, and blue “Remember 9/11” magnet. How the hell did people get bumper stickers so fast? Didn’t he just decide to run yesterday or the day before?
I would have taken a picture, but my Thursday night pizza was on top of my bag, so I couldn’t get to my camera. I had a pizza because Thursday is, as Brian says, my “special day”, when I go to the comic store and then get a five dollar pepperoni pizza from the store next door. I take both of them home and read my comics while I eat half of my pizza.
With a knife and fork.
I don’t want my comics all greasy and smeary, you know?
Not that it would be all that tragic if “Omega Flight” got smeared all to crap. I’m sending my comic guy a note tomorrow to cancel that from my pull list before I forget, since I’m three issues in and can’t find a single good thing about it other than that Julia Carpenter is on the team, and I like her.
I hate her new codename, though.
And her redesigned costume.
Still, though, it’s a comic that’s so bad that this issue they actually used “your” instead of “you’re”. Not only does it look like they drew it with a half-melted crayon, but they can’t even take the trouble to proofread it.
I'd rather spend my comic budget on something like "Fables" or "The Plain Janes" instead. I liked that so much I ordered copies for two of my friends today.
I would have taken a picture, but my Thursday night pizza was on top of my bag, so I couldn’t get to my camera. I had a pizza because Thursday is, as Brian says, my “special day”, when I go to the comic store and then get a five dollar pepperoni pizza from the store next door. I take both of them home and read my comics while I eat half of my pizza.
With a knife and fork.
I don’t want my comics all greasy and smeary, you know?
Not that it would be all that tragic if “Omega Flight” got smeared all to crap. I’m sending my comic guy a note tomorrow to cancel that from my pull list before I forget, since I’m three issues in and can’t find a single good thing about it other than that Julia Carpenter is on the team, and I like her.
I hate her new codename, though.
And her redesigned costume.
Still, though, it’s a comic that’s so bad that this issue they actually used “your” instead of “you’re”. Not only does it look like they drew it with a half-melted crayon, but they can’t even take the trouble to proofread it.
I'd rather spend my comic budget on something like "Fables" or "The Plain Janes" instead. I liked that so much I ordered copies for two of my friends today.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
being neighborly
I never lived off campus before I moved here, but I always had this vision of what it would be like to live in an apartment, mostly shaped by “Melrose Place”. There are mild differences, of course.
The people who lay out by the pool are significantly older, since my apartment complex has a lot of retirees, and no one has ever fallen into it during a fight, during a wedding, or while staggering drunk on platform heels because Billy told them he wanted a divorce.
The laundry room here has windows and a television, so it’s bright and cheery, rather than basementy, and I’ve never found Sydney tied up in it while Kimberly wires the building with explosives.
On that same note, the building has never blown up or caught on fire, even though we did have a power outage when our building was struck by lightning Easter weekend.
I guess I just always had this picture of living in a building where everyone knew each other and sat out on the steps at night chatting and got really involved in each other’s lives even though they had nothing in common. Also, I assumed everyone else would be really hot, but people here pretty much keep to themselves most of the time. Every once in a while they surprise you, though.
Today I was pulling in and Porch Pots Lady was outside watering her plants. I was grumbling internally, vowing once again to get at least one plant to try to offer up a little competition. She waved and I waved, as we do when we see each other, but then she called me over rather than letting me scurry into my apartment.
“Do you cook?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Here, let me give you some herbs!”
She gave me a handful of oregano, and when I said I’d probably make spaghetti with it she said, “Oh, you’ll need basil, too!” and picked me off a big handful. I was so touched and surprised. My neighbor gave me something to put in my mouth, just like that time Jake decided to start dating Allison.
My dinner involved much less raging alcoholism, faking blindness, and also dating Kelly from “90210”, but it was still good.
The people who lay out by the pool are significantly older, since my apartment complex has a lot of retirees, and no one has ever fallen into it during a fight, during a wedding, or while staggering drunk on platform heels because Billy told them he wanted a divorce.
The laundry room here has windows and a television, so it’s bright and cheery, rather than basementy, and I’ve never found Sydney tied up in it while Kimberly wires the building with explosives.
On that same note, the building has never blown up or caught on fire, even though we did have a power outage when our building was struck by lightning Easter weekend.
I guess I just always had this picture of living in a building where everyone knew each other and sat out on the steps at night chatting and got really involved in each other’s lives even though they had nothing in common. Also, I assumed everyone else would be really hot, but people here pretty much keep to themselves most of the time. Every once in a while they surprise you, though.
Today I was pulling in and Porch Pots Lady was outside watering her plants. I was grumbling internally, vowing once again to get at least one plant to try to offer up a little competition. She waved and I waved, as we do when we see each other, but then she called me over rather than letting me scurry into my apartment.
“Do you cook?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Here, let me give you some herbs!”
She gave me a handful of oregano, and when I said I’d probably make spaghetti with it she said, “Oh, you’ll need basil, too!” and picked me off a big handful. I was so touched and surprised. My neighbor gave me something to put in my mouth, just like that time Jake decided to start dating Allison.
My dinner involved much less raging alcoholism, faking blindness, and also dating Kelly from “90210”, but it was still good.
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Adventurecon!
Marvel Comics had a long running, frequently revived series called “What If?” that offered stories based on a single question, like, “What if the Fantastic Four Got Different Powers?” or “What if Spider Man Didn’t Marry Mary Jane?” With that in mind, I offer, “What if the Punisher Stopped Hitting the Gym?”
While the main answer seems obvious, the secondary one seems to also be that he’d make friends with one of Sgt. Pepper’s bandmates.
This morning Brian and I drove downtown to the convention center at World’s Fair Park for the Adventurecon comic convention. Brian hasn’t read comics in years, but remembers them fondly, while I still make my trip to the comic store every week. I’ve been to part of the convention center, but this is the closest I’ve been to the Sunsphere:
We weren’t sure which building to go to a first, but it was pretty easy to follow the costumes:
Even the kids got into it:
Brian and I were both a little concerned that the kid was leaning over a several yard drop with nary a parent in sight, but hey, it wasn’t our kid. When Brian pointed out that we should leave so we didn’t become witnesses, I pointed out that I’d at least be able to send the picture to CNN.
Some costumes were a little scarier than others. I’m not sure what this guy was dressed as, but he could have used some underwear, because you could see all his space junk whether you wanted to or not:
I saw a really sad Green Lantern that I didn’t get a photo of, some Lord of the Rings elves with rather modern handbags and hair clips, a half dozen 45 year old Hogwarts students, and people from pretty much every other science fiction fandom you could think of. I waited so long for Brian to get out of the ticket line that I thought I sprained my sneering muscle, but I managed to find it again in time for Mr. Not-Quite Fantastic:
Brian asked why one of his gloves was gold, and I answered, “He’s wearing the Infinity Gauntlet.”
Right after that I realized I didn’t really have a sneering leg to stand on.
I guess, in the end, different people have fun doing different things. Some people like dressing up as Boba Fett or a pale, female Darth Maul…
…some guys like dressing up like Elvira…
…some people like staying in character even on the escalator…
…and some people like smugly sneering at them from behind their camera. In the end, all that really matters is that everyone goes home happy, like this biker scout and his girlfriend.
While the main answer seems obvious, the secondary one seems to also be that he’d make friends with one of Sgt. Pepper’s bandmates.
This morning Brian and I drove downtown to the convention center at World’s Fair Park for the Adventurecon comic convention. Brian hasn’t read comics in years, but remembers them fondly, while I still make my trip to the comic store every week. I’ve been to part of the convention center, but this is the closest I’ve been to the Sunsphere:
We weren’t sure which building to go to a first, but it was pretty easy to follow the costumes:
Even the kids got into it:
Brian and I were both a little concerned that the kid was leaning over a several yard drop with nary a parent in sight, but hey, it wasn’t our kid. When Brian pointed out that we should leave so we didn’t become witnesses, I pointed out that I’d at least be able to send the picture to CNN.
Some costumes were a little scarier than others. I’m not sure what this guy was dressed as, but he could have used some underwear, because you could see all his space junk whether you wanted to or not:
I saw a really sad Green Lantern that I didn’t get a photo of, some Lord of the Rings elves with rather modern handbags and hair clips, a half dozen 45 year old Hogwarts students, and people from pretty much every other science fiction fandom you could think of. I waited so long for Brian to get out of the ticket line that I thought I sprained my sneering muscle, but I managed to find it again in time for Mr. Not-Quite Fantastic:
Brian asked why one of his gloves was gold, and I answered, “He’s wearing the Infinity Gauntlet.”
Right after that I realized I didn’t really have a sneering leg to stand on.
I guess, in the end, different people have fun doing different things. Some people like dressing up as Boba Fett or a pale, female Darth Maul…
…some guys like dressing up like Elvira…
…some people like staying in character even on the escalator…
…and some people like smugly sneering at them from behind their camera. In the end, all that really matters is that everyone goes home happy, like this biker scout and his girlfriend.
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