Here's a great website for those of us who are online all the time and are sick of registering for everyhing:
bugmenot.com
Public usernames. Why didn't I ever think of that?
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Turducken is here!
The monstrosity is baking nicely in its own juices...will post pictures and review later!
Today I am eating:
Turducken with creole sausage and cornbread stuffing
Sweet corn cakes
Mashed potatoes
Roasted garlic lemon potatoes
Broccoli salad
Buttered corn
Stuffing
Pumpkin pie
Apple pie
Lemon poppyseed scones
Cranberry orange scones
...and MORE!
Today I am eating:
Turducken with creole sausage and cornbread stuffing
Sweet corn cakes
Mashed potatoes
Roasted garlic lemon potatoes
Broccoli salad
Buttered corn
Stuffing
Pumpkin pie
Apple pie
Lemon poppyseed scones
Cranberry orange scones
...and MORE!
Sunday, November 20, 2005
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
spending most of my time reading lately--absorbing rather than purging information--so i have felt less inclined to write. short update:
-we named my kitten Mouse, and i am completely and utterly obsessed with her.
-my sister came to visit and we went to the zoo and saw koalas shit on each other.
-i took the professional responsiblity test, and left feeling unprofessional and irresponsible.
-i was too apathetic to vote yesterday.
-i bought three pairs of adorable shoes for $13.99 due to pricing error.
-they hurt my feet.
-we named my kitten Mouse, and i am completely and utterly obsessed with her.
-my sister came to visit and we went to the zoo and saw koalas shit on each other.
-i took the professional responsiblity test, and left feeling unprofessional and irresponsible.
-i was too apathetic to vote yesterday.
-i bought three pairs of adorable shoes for $13.99 due to pricing error.
-they hurt my feet.
Monday, October 24, 2005
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
i am so proud of myself.
so. proud.
i just found and bought a round-trip ticket to Hong Kong from LAX, nonstop, on Cathay Pacific, for $503.00.
Five hundred and three dollars.
plus taxes and airport charges of course, but holy FUCK it's still cheap!
Victory dance!
*wiggle wiggle*
i just found and bought a round-trip ticket to Hong Kong from LAX, nonstop, on Cathay Pacific, for $503.00.
Five hundred and three dollars.
plus taxes and airport charges of course, but holy FUCK it's still cheap!
Victory dance!
*wiggle wiggle*
Monday, October 03, 2005
addictions
it just sunk in today that i am hopelessly addicted to two things: coffee and sriracha hot sauce. not together, mind you, but they might as well be, since they're sloshiing around in a happy stew in my stomach right now.
i'm the poster child for future heartburn commercials. i can see it now:
"i spent my twenties recklessly drinking caustic liquids that ate away my stomach lining. but thanks to prilosec, i now lead a somewhat normal life."
yum.
i'm the poster child for future heartburn commercials. i can see it now:
"i spent my twenties recklessly drinking caustic liquids that ate away my stomach lining. but thanks to prilosec, i now lead a somewhat normal life."
yum.
Monday, September 26, 2005
small joys
today i was driving home from class
when i decided to flip around and look for
a spanish language radio station to listen to
and i found a station where a woman was reading
what could, by its cadence,
only be a beautiful peice of literature
i listened and thought: this reminds me of
gabriel garcia marquez.
the rythm and the word choice were so familiar.
then, i listened more closely,
and realized--it WAS garbriel garcia marquez!
i had stumbled upon
a spanish radio reading of
"La prodigiosa tarde de Baltazar."
and all day i have been immensely proud of myself
for having been able to identify
Gabo in his native language.
and you thought this was going to be a poem, didn't you?
when i decided to flip around and look for
a spanish language radio station to listen to
and i found a station where a woman was reading
what could, by its cadence,
only be a beautiful peice of literature
i listened and thought: this reminds me of
gabriel garcia marquez.
the rythm and the word choice were so familiar.
then, i listened more closely,
and realized--it WAS garbriel garcia marquez!
i had stumbled upon
a spanish radio reading of
"La prodigiosa tarde de Baltazar."
and all day i have been immensely proud of myself
for having been able to identify
Gabo in his native language.
and you thought this was going to be a poem, didn't you?
Saturday, September 24, 2005
THEY'RE MADE OUT OF MEAT
by Terry Bisson
"They're made out of meat."
"Meat?"
"Meat. They're made out of meat."
"Meat?"
"There's no doubt about it. We picked up several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, and probed them all the way through. They're completely meat."
"That's impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the stars?"
"They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don't come from them. The signals come from machines."
"So who made the machines? That's who we want to contact."
"They made the machines. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Meat made the machines."
"That's ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You're asking me to believe in sentient meat."
"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. These creatures are the only sentient race in that sector and they're made out of meat."
"Maybe they're like the orfolei. You know, a carbon-based intelligence that goes through a meat stage."
"Nope. They're born meat and they die meat. We studied them for several of their life spans, which didn't take long. Do you have any idea what's the life span of meat?"
"Spare me. Okay, maybe they're only part meat. You know, like the weddilei. A meat head with an electron plasma brain inside."
"Nope. We thought of that, since they do have meat heads, like the weddilei. But I told you, we probed them. They're meat all the way through."
"No brain?"
"Oh, there's a brain all right. It's just that the brain is made out of meat! That's what I've been trying to tell you."
"So ... what does the thinking?"
"You're not understanding, are you? You're refusing to deal with what I'm telling you. The brain does the thinking. The meat."
"Thinking meat! You're asking me to believe in thinking meat!"
"Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat. The meat is the whole deal! Are you beginning to get the picture or do I have to start all over?"
"Omigod. You're serious then. They're made out of meat."
"Thank you. Finally. Yes. They are indeed made out of meat. And they've been trying to get in touch with us for almost a hundred of their years."
"Omigod. So what does this meat have in mind?"
"First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the Universe, contact other sentiences, swap ideas and information. The usual."
"We're supposed to talk to meat."
"That's the idea. That's the message they're sending out by radio. 'Hello. Anyone out there. Anybody home.' That sort of thing."
"They actually do talk, then. They use words, ideas, concepts?"
"Oh, yes. Except they do it with meat."
"I thought you just told me they used radio."
"They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat, it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat."
"Omigod. Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you advise?"
"Officially or unofficially?"
"Both."
"Officially, we are required to contact, welcome and log in any and all sentient races or multibeings in this quadrant of the Universe, without prejudice, fear or favor. Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and forget the whole thing."
"I was hoping you would say that."
"It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make contact with meat?"
"I agree one hundred percent. What's there to say? 'Hello, meat. How's it going?' But will this work? How many planets are we dealing with here?"
"Just one. They can travel to other planets in special meat containers, but they can't live on them. And being meat, they can only travel through C space. Which limits them to the speed of light and makes the possibility of their ever making contact pretty slim. Infinitesimal, in fact."
"So we just pretend there's no one home in the Universe."
"That's it."
"Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to meet meat? And the ones who have been aboard our vessels, the ones you probed? You're sure they won't remember?"
"They'll be considered crackpots if they do. We went into their heads and smoothed out their meat so that we're just a dream to them."
"A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat's dream."
"And we marked the entire sector unoccupied."
"Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others? Anyone interesting on that side of the galaxy?"
"Yes, a rather shy but sweet hydrogen core cluster intelligence in a class nine star in G445 zone. Was in contact two galactic rotations ago, wants to be friendly again."
"They always come around."
"And why not? Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the Universe would be if one were all alone ..."
the end
More stories from Terry Bisson here.
"They're made out of meat."
"Meat?"
"Meat. They're made out of meat."
"Meat?"
"There's no doubt about it. We picked up several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, and probed them all the way through. They're completely meat."
"That's impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the stars?"
"They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don't come from them. The signals come from machines."
"So who made the machines? That's who we want to contact."
"They made the machines. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Meat made the machines."
"That's ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You're asking me to believe in sentient meat."
"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. These creatures are the only sentient race in that sector and they're made out of meat."
"Maybe they're like the orfolei. You know, a carbon-based intelligence that goes through a meat stage."
"Nope. They're born meat and they die meat. We studied them for several of their life spans, which didn't take long. Do you have any idea what's the life span of meat?"
"Spare me. Okay, maybe they're only part meat. You know, like the weddilei. A meat head with an electron plasma brain inside."
"Nope. We thought of that, since they do have meat heads, like the weddilei. But I told you, we probed them. They're meat all the way through."
"No brain?"
"Oh, there's a brain all right. It's just that the brain is made out of meat! That's what I've been trying to tell you."
"So ... what does the thinking?"
"You're not understanding, are you? You're refusing to deal with what I'm telling you. The brain does the thinking. The meat."
"Thinking meat! You're asking me to believe in thinking meat!"
"Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat. The meat is the whole deal! Are you beginning to get the picture or do I have to start all over?"
"Omigod. You're serious then. They're made out of meat."
"Thank you. Finally. Yes. They are indeed made out of meat. And they've been trying to get in touch with us for almost a hundred of their years."
"Omigod. So what does this meat have in mind?"
"First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the Universe, contact other sentiences, swap ideas and information. The usual."
"We're supposed to talk to meat."
"That's the idea. That's the message they're sending out by radio. 'Hello. Anyone out there. Anybody home.' That sort of thing."
"They actually do talk, then. They use words, ideas, concepts?"
"Oh, yes. Except they do it with meat."
"I thought you just told me they used radio."
"They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat, it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat."
"Omigod. Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you advise?"
"Officially or unofficially?"
"Both."
"Officially, we are required to contact, welcome and log in any and all sentient races or multibeings in this quadrant of the Universe, without prejudice, fear or favor. Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and forget the whole thing."
"I was hoping you would say that."
"It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make contact with meat?"
"I agree one hundred percent. What's there to say? 'Hello, meat. How's it going?' But will this work? How many planets are we dealing with here?"
"Just one. They can travel to other planets in special meat containers, but they can't live on them. And being meat, they can only travel through C space. Which limits them to the speed of light and makes the possibility of their ever making contact pretty slim. Infinitesimal, in fact."
"So we just pretend there's no one home in the Universe."
"That's it."
"Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to meet meat? And the ones who have been aboard our vessels, the ones you probed? You're sure they won't remember?"
"They'll be considered crackpots if they do. We went into their heads and smoothed out their meat so that we're just a dream to them."
"A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat's dream."
"And we marked the entire sector unoccupied."
"Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others? Anyone interesting on that side of the galaxy?"
"Yes, a rather shy but sweet hydrogen core cluster intelligence in a class nine star in G445 zone. Was in contact two galactic rotations ago, wants to be friendly again."
"They always come around."
"And why not? Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the Universe would be if one were all alone ..."
the end
More stories from Terry Bisson here.
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
new arrival
i have a kitten! she is the most adorable thing in the world.
she doesn't have a name yet--any suggestions?
i wanted to name her mephistopheles, but she has such an angel face, i can't bring myself to call her the devil.
Monday, August 29, 2005
meeting, anyone?
I am so sick of meetings. Ever since school started, it's meeting this, meeting that. Maybe it's my fault for having gotten involved in far too many meeting-generating organizations, but this is ridiculous. "Let's have a meeting to discuss our upcoming meetings!"
Fuck meetings.
Fuck coordinating your schedule with five to ten other busy, frazzled law students who have overlapping meetings. Fuck administrative fucked-uppedness. My skin crawls whenever anyone says the word "meet." My little blue dayplanner is more used than a two-dollar whore.
Okay...I feel better now. Just needed to vent.
off to my next meeting!
Fuck meetings.
Fuck coordinating your schedule with five to ten other busy, frazzled law students who have overlapping meetings. Fuck administrative fucked-uppedness. My skin crawls whenever anyone says the word "meet." My little blue dayplanner is more used than a two-dollar whore.
Okay...I feel better now. Just needed to vent.
off to my next meeting!
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Monday, August 22, 2005
one day at a time
it's strange being back in san diego, especially since this place has never really been "home" to me. i've always associated this city with school-induced headaches and my burgeoning inferiority complex.
it was even more strange when i drove back "home" to OC to visit my parents in a house so remodeled that it hardly resembles the house i grew up in. the hallways and bedrooms are in the same familiar places, but my dear baby sister is all grown up into a beautiful young woman and my father and stepmother have gone completely psychotic with religious zeal.
these past few days i have laughed and cried and shouted at the top of my lungs. i have climbed on precarious shelves to reach inside cobweb-festooned carboard boxes of my old things in the garage, untouched since i left the house after college, and pulled out old favorite books to bring home and old photos to smile at, and old journals to read through.
it's strange, but good, being back.
it was even more strange when i drove back "home" to OC to visit my parents in a house so remodeled that it hardly resembles the house i grew up in. the hallways and bedrooms are in the same familiar places, but my dear baby sister is all grown up into a beautiful young woman and my father and stepmother have gone completely psychotic with religious zeal.
these past few days i have laughed and cried and shouted at the top of my lungs. i have climbed on precarious shelves to reach inside cobweb-festooned carboard boxes of my old things in the garage, untouched since i left the house after college, and pulled out old favorite books to bring home and old photos to smile at, and old journals to read through.
it's strange, but good, being back.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
The Beach
On an island off the coast of Thailand, I found the closest aproximation yet of "The Beach (you know, the Leonardo diCaprio movie).
It's a place we heard through by word of mouth, doesn't exist on any map. Bungalows directly on the beach. A deck over the crashing waves, where people sit on pillows on the floor or lounge in one of the many hammocks, playing with the cats or sipping a fuit shake or wicked cocktail or eating delicious food.
At night, some of the best DJs I have heard spin buddha bar loungey music, breakbeats and house, and we all dance under the stars.
In December, the whole place is picking up and moving to an undisclosed location. The beach is getting to crowded, and they are moving to a lonlier place, now only accessible by boat.
We made friends with the bartender who told us where they are moving. Sweet.
It's a place we heard through by word of mouth, doesn't exist on any map. Bungalows directly on the beach. A deck over the crashing waves, where people sit on pillows on the floor or lounge in one of the many hammocks, playing with the cats or sipping a fuit shake or wicked cocktail or eating delicious food.
At night, some of the best DJs I have heard spin buddha bar loungey music, breakbeats and house, and we all dance under the stars.
In December, the whole place is picking up and moving to an undisclosed location. The beach is getting to crowded, and they are moving to a lonlier place, now only accessible by boat.
We made friends with the bartender who told us where they are moving. Sweet.
Friday, August 19, 2005
places i've been, places i want to see
I think I should start listing the places I’ve been since I graduated from college. So here it is:
Places I’ve been in the past four years, in no particular order (times in parenthesis if visited more than once):
Paris (3)
Lyon
Marseilles
Iles du Frioul
Cassis
Barcelona (2)
Mallorca
Cinque Terre (2)
Amsterdam (4)
Lisse
Siena
Prague (2)
Vienna (2)
Rome (2)
Venice (2)
Florence
Shanghai
Guangzhou
Hangzhou
Suzhou
Taipei
Kaoshuing
Hong Kong (2)
Bangkok
Phuket
Phi Phi
Ko Chang
Oahu
Vegas (10+)
Puerto Nuevo (4)
Places I want to see in the next four to five years (chosen because I want to do the adventurous, out of the way stuff while I am young, and leave the tamer locations for later):
Macchu Picchu
Teotihuacan
Tulum
Tortuguero
Galapagos Islands
Palau
Buenos Aires
La Coruna
Costa Rica
Honduras
Maldives
Goa
Mumbai
Seychelles
Laos (Vang Vieng)
Myanmar
Pamplona
I don’t expect to see all these places in four years, since I suppose in a year I will have to get a real job and actually work, but let’s see how far I get…
Places I’ve been in the past four years, in no particular order (times in parenthesis if visited more than once):
Paris (3)
Lyon
Marseilles
Iles du Frioul
Cassis
Barcelona (2)
Mallorca
Cinque Terre (2)
Amsterdam (4)
Lisse
Siena
Prague (2)
Vienna (2)
Rome (2)
Venice (2)
Florence
Shanghai
Guangzhou
Hangzhou
Suzhou
Taipei
Kaoshuing
Hong Kong (2)
Bangkok
Phuket
Phi Phi
Ko Chang
Oahu
Vegas (10+)
Puerto Nuevo (4)
Places I want to see in the next four to five years (chosen because I want to do the adventurous, out of the way stuff while I am young, and leave the tamer locations for later):
Macchu Picchu
Teotihuacan
Tulum
Tortuguero
Galapagos Islands
Palau
Buenos Aires
La Coruna
Costa Rica
Honduras
Maldives
Goa
Mumbai
Seychelles
Laos (Vang Vieng)
Myanmar
Pamplona
I don’t expect to see all these places in four years, since I suppose in a year I will have to get a real job and actually work, but let’s see how far I get…
from my tattered brown travel journal:
Entries from my travel journal: Bangkok and Cambodia
Sawasdee House, Bangkok, Thailand July 31, 2005
There is something immensely freeing about being somewhere completely, utterly removed from home, where all you lay claim to in this world fits into a small backpack.
Spending the afternoon sipping cocktails and lounging around on a triangle cushion. Being able to say when someone asks you where you will be tomorrow: “I don’t know.”
The bottoms of my feet are not black yet, which means I haven’t yet really begun to travel.
I have been eating everything in sight lately. The street stalls are so enticing, especially those that have huge pots of god-knows-what that you just gesture at for a scoop.
August 2, 2005
Last night Stella and I went drinking at this mobile bar that folds out of a van. It’s called Shark, and they serve 180 baht (approx. US $4.50) huge buckets of alcohol. The guys who throw this party were there drinking, and they attached a big bell to the top of the tarp that formed a makeshift canopy. Every time one of the guys got up and rang the bell, everyone at the bar got a free drink. The drunker the guys get, the more often they ring the bell. Stella and I started out with two buckets of alcohol, but then the guys rang the bell and we had four buckets of alcohol. They ended up ringing the bell 5 times.
We got smashed and met a group of cool travelers. When the bar-in-a-van closed, we somehow fit all eight of us in a tuk-tuk (which comfortably seats three small people) to go drinking some more. Fun night!
Siem Reap, Cambodia August 3, 2005
WHAT A DAY! Woke up at 6am in Bangkok to catch the bus to Siem Reap, which was supposed to take 11 hours. Of course, everything was delayed and it ended up taking us 18 hours to get to Siem Reap.
Before the border at Poipet, we got kicked off our comfortable double-decker bus and into the back of a modified pickup truck, which we rode to the border. Then they took us to an exchange house that looked very official but ended up totally scamming us on the exchange rate. My fault, though, for not checking the exchange rate before I left Thailand.
After the exchange scam, about 20 of us were herded into the back of what can only be described as a cattle truck, and we rode for about 2 hours on a bumpy, dusty dirt road, trying to avoid falling through the holes in the floorboards. The dirt eventually turned into mud, and we were forced to get out, put on our backpacks and walk 2 kilometers in the mud and heat to our dingy, waiting bus.
We didn’t arrive in Siem Reap until almost 1AM.
Angkor Wat, Cambodia, August 5, 2005
I don’t know how long I’ve dreamt of sitting here, writing this. I am near the central tower of the sanctuary of Angkor Wat (equal in height to the towers at Notre Dame). A strong, cool breeze blows at my back, I am seated facing inside, looking into an empty basin that may have been used as a reflecting pool.
This place is breathtaking in its harmony, immensity, detail. Every inch is covered with the most intricate carvings. It feels so great to have finally made it here.
Seven wonders of the world: two down, five to go.
Smiley’s Guest House, Siem Reap, Cambodia August 6th, 2005
What else can I say about Angkor, except that words cannot do it justice? Climbing around the temple-mountains, staring face-to-face with the Bayon, I could not find the wherewithal to write.
Sawasdee House, Bangkok, Thailand July 31, 2005
There is something immensely freeing about being somewhere completely, utterly removed from home, where all you lay claim to in this world fits into a small backpack.
Spending the afternoon sipping cocktails and lounging around on a triangle cushion. Being able to say when someone asks you where you will be tomorrow: “I don’t know.”
The bottoms of my feet are not black yet, which means I haven’t yet really begun to travel.
I have been eating everything in sight lately. The street stalls are so enticing, especially those that have huge pots of god-knows-what that you just gesture at for a scoop.
August 2, 2005
Last night Stella and I went drinking at this mobile bar that folds out of a van. It’s called Shark, and they serve 180 baht (approx. US $4.50) huge buckets of alcohol. The guys who throw this party were there drinking, and they attached a big bell to the top of the tarp that formed a makeshift canopy. Every time one of the guys got up and rang the bell, everyone at the bar got a free drink. The drunker the guys get, the more often they ring the bell. Stella and I started out with two buckets of alcohol, but then the guys rang the bell and we had four buckets of alcohol. They ended up ringing the bell 5 times.
We got smashed and met a group of cool travelers. When the bar-in-a-van closed, we somehow fit all eight of us in a tuk-tuk (which comfortably seats three small people) to go drinking some more. Fun night!
Siem Reap, Cambodia August 3, 2005
WHAT A DAY! Woke up at 6am in Bangkok to catch the bus to Siem Reap, which was supposed to take 11 hours. Of course, everything was delayed and it ended up taking us 18 hours to get to Siem Reap.
Before the border at Poipet, we got kicked off our comfortable double-decker bus and into the back of a modified pickup truck, which we rode to the border. Then they took us to an exchange house that looked very official but ended up totally scamming us on the exchange rate. My fault, though, for not checking the exchange rate before I left Thailand.
After the exchange scam, about 20 of us were herded into the back of what can only be described as a cattle truck, and we rode for about 2 hours on a bumpy, dusty dirt road, trying to avoid falling through the holes in the floorboards. The dirt eventually turned into mud, and we were forced to get out, put on our backpacks and walk 2 kilometers in the mud and heat to our dingy, waiting bus.
We didn’t arrive in Siem Reap until almost 1AM.
Angkor Wat, Cambodia, August 5, 2005
I don’t know how long I’ve dreamt of sitting here, writing this. I am near the central tower of the sanctuary of Angkor Wat (equal in height to the towers at Notre Dame). A strong, cool breeze blows at my back, I am seated facing inside, looking into an empty basin that may have been used as a reflecting pool.
This place is breathtaking in its harmony, immensity, detail. Every inch is covered with the most intricate carvings. It feels so great to have finally made it here.
Seven wonders of the world: two down, five to go.
Smiley’s Guest House, Siem Reap, Cambodia August 6th, 2005
What else can I say about Angkor, except that words cannot do it justice? Climbing around the temple-mountains, staring face-to-face with the Bayon, I could not find the wherewithal to write.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
picture album of southeast asia trip
I've put together an album of a few pictures from my trip. There are over 380 but I just chose around 80 to share-editing takes forever!
Click here to view
Click here to view
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