K-Squared Ramblings

Command-shift-BLAMMO

I just caught myself repeatedly pressing control-V and wondering why nothing was pasting. As I’m a lifelong Mac user, this is a personal sign of the plural of apocalypse. Somebody shoot me before I attract any horsemen.

No hablo nada

I swear, I cannot win with people anymore. I used to have a good, unloseable Spanish accent when saying people’s names. I started losing it on purpose when I royally frelled up speaking to someone who outranked me at the Dungeons & Demons job, and it’s pretty much gone. I wince when I hear myself say “manual” for “Manuel,” but at least I don’t confuse the person on the other end of the line.

Like today. I called a place for info on the file of someone whose last name I’ll say is Rivera. Like a good little white girl, I said it rih-VAIR-a.

“Oh, Mr. ree-VEH-ra?” asked the receptionist, and I conceded. The place called me back later and asked for a return call, and when I got the receptionist again I asked for the person who’d called, on the file of Mr. ree-VEH-ra.

“Sorry, what was the last name?”

*sigh* “rih-VAIR-a.”

“Oh, ree-VEH-ra. Let me transfer you.”

Like I said. No winning.

Pitchers of Choo-Choo

On the trip to Ikea to get the patio furniture, we had a Choo-Choo Bear sighting in the parking lot–an auspicious beginning to any shopping spree, if you ask me.

Me: “For $1.99, you want to get one and paint eyes on it?”

Kelson: “For $1.99, why not?!”

Murr!

Apocalyptic Timing

While surfing around, I stumbled across a March 6 post on the rompe blog linking to Ghost Town, a truly fascinating account of a Russian(?) woman who likes to ride her motorcycle through the Chernobyl dead zone. The site is full of photographs of the wilderness, of abandoned buildings, and the few people who still live in the area. Apparently radiation levels have fallen enough that it’s safe if you stick to the roadways and avoid dust – and of course bring a radiation meter along! At one point she goes into the town nearest the power plant, and looks at a dilapidated park, looted shops (people didn’t bother with banks or jewelry stores in the evacuation, but the motorcycle shop was ransacked!), and apartments with family photos still sitting on the shelves. She likens it to Pompeii, in terms of how the whole town is frozen in time. In some ways it’s more like Roanoke, with the exception that we know where the people of Chernobyl went.

A bit later, I started on my usual rounds, and discovered that Neil Gaiman remarked on the same site just a few hours ago.

Get Folked?

On the way home tonight, we saw this billboard advertising Queer as Folk:

(Sorry about the image quality – there’s not much time to compose a shot when you’re trying to pull out the camera while driving by at 40 mph!)

Silver lining

Sometimes you just get lucky.

On Saturday, I took the car in for maintenance. There was a snafu involving a mislabeled box from a parts supplier that closed earlier than the shop, and I was left with a complimentary rental car for the weekend.

On Sunday, an Ikea catalog arrived with the paper, and Katie spotted some nice, reasonably-priced patio furniture. So we descended upon the tiny rental car (a Hyundai Accent) with a tape measure, and a few hours later our balcony actually looked like someone lived in the apartment.

After I got the car back on Monday, I lowered the back seats to see just how big the opening to the trunk was. And despite the fact that it’s a larger car (a Nissan Sentra), there’s no way we could ever have fit the box in there.

A nice day for a swim

Today it was bright, sunny and warm – the perfect day to go swimming.

Well, so much for that idea.

I just don’t get it

OK, one of my pet peeves is people who refuse to walk 50 feet out of their way to a crosswalk, instead dashing across a busy street where cars are more likely to hit them (or swerve and hit other cars, buildings, etc.)

But the number of people who jaywalk from the courthouse to the Starbucks across the street just amazes me. Especially since the courthouse is at the corner. The point where people cross the street is close enough to the intersection that the left turn lane has already opened up.

I mean, talk about a triumph of laziness over self-preservation. Saving ten seconds vs. risking life and limb? And flagrantly violating traffic laws in front of the courthouse?

I just don’t get it.

Things we’re not registering for

I got this ad a few years ago in my Science Fiction Book Club mailer and kept it for the fall-on-your-ass-laughing value. What with the picking out of china patterns that goes along with modern weddings, it seemed perfect to trot out now.

I’ve tried to find out if it’s possible to get just a set of mugs, which it wasn’t at the time. Maybe I should start hunting around on eBay……

Meditations for dirty minds

Ever feel like the universe is screwing you over?

I think they’re trying to tell us something

I don’t get what it’s saying. Maybe there’s a hidden message on it.

This is why you plan ahead

It seems that Benton County, Oregon, has decided to stop issuing any marriage licenses until the state makes up its mind who can and can’t get married. For now, straight couples in the area will have to go to the next county over to get married.

The rationale, of course, is that they “need to treat everyone in our county equally” — even if it’s not clear whether they’re allowed to let one class of people marry.

So I suppose gay marriage can negatively impact straight marriage after all: (1) Longer lines at the courthouse might deter spur-of-the-moment weddings. (2) Confuse the clerks enough, and they’ll just throw up their hands and say “Come back tomorrow!”

Not that either is likely to happen here in über-conservative OC, but I am glad we’ve already picked up our license.

Silly Censors

A few weeks ago I was looking at the website error logs and noticed some attempts to access images with names like /flash/images/%20%20%20%20%20%20%20ans3.jpg. I got around to looking at it today, and all of them are the same name, all of them from browsers looking at my profile of the Teen Titans, which includes an image called teentitans3.jpg.

I finally realized what’s going on. Some moronic filter has broken up the name not as “teen titans” but as “teen tit ans,” decided it must be porn, and replaced the “offending” words with spaces (%20 is the code for a space in a URL).

It really makes me wonder how badly mangled the page looks to these people, especially if it turns out that every instance of the team’s name gets pointlessly erased.

Further reading: The Censorware Project, Peacefire, Electronic Frontier Foundation.

Stout-Hearted

Decided to try Murphy’s instead of Guinness this year. I much prefer Murphy’s.

Apartment snobbery

We got home tonight, after a good round of beer therapy and poking fun at the evil that is casual dinnerware, and found that we now live in Aliso Springs. They didn’t change the city name, mind you, just the name of our apartment “village.” We’d been wondering how they were going to handle having painted over the metal number plates affixed to our doors. Now we know: artsy little ceramic number plates affixed to the stucco, using slightly eastern script for the “Aliso Springs” and that much-too-popular raggedy calligraphy one for the numbers.

Gag me. These people need to get a clue. This place was never high-class and it’s never going to be. And, considering how frelling expensive it is to live in the kind of place they want to turn this into, it shouldn’t be, not in this area.

I think I need more beer therapy.