I know I’m a little late to the game, but I’ve finally added tags to my website. Oooo….
We also, if you are inclined to comment, have added some toys to the comment section. If you look right above the comment box, you’ll see a button with two arrows on it. Click that and you’ll get a bank of buttons that will make it easy to add formatting to your post. There’s even a dictionary.
I will send a gift to the first 3 people who leave a comment here on my blog.
I donâ€™t know what that gift will be yet, but you will receive it within 365 days (likely sooner than later). This may end up being almost anything. It could be a gift box, a hand made craft, a thrift store/garage sale find, a holiday oriented fascination, a poem, a book, a photo, or something else I find. Anything.
The only thing you have to do in return is â€œpay it forwardâ€ by making a similar agreement on your Journal.
So that’s the question du jour. Should I get a New York number for my cellphone or keep my Oregon number? I can keep the Oregon number active, so that’s not an issue.
The question is about getting work. I feel like the area code on the phone is becoming a sort of non-issue these days as more and more people switch to cells. On the other hand, it does instantly label me as an out-of-towner.
So what do you think? Switch to a 646 number or stay with the 503?
Edited to add: Thanks for the comments everyone. I decided that the continuity was probably worth more than the “local” number. Especially since I realized that I can just forward my 646 Skype number to my cellphone. It’s the best of both worlds. So, the 503 number stays.
I had dinner with Jay Lake tonight, which was fun. It’s nice to catch up with someone, like, in real life, instead of just existing online. I love you guys, but it’s nice to see facial expression beyond an emoticon. That and Jay is funny.
Afterwards, I went to see The Curse of the Golden Flower with Rob. My comment upon the films end was, “Wow. I never expected something so lavishly produced to make Phantom Menace look good.”
I have loved every one of Zhang Yimou’s films so far and this one was unredeemably awful in almost every respect. It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to leave a film. Also, one of the worst choices for end credit designs ever. Bad from beginning to end? Sadly, yes. We were trying to decide when we turned on the film, and I think it might have been when the prince arrived at the palace a full day before Chan, despite the fact that they left ten minutes apart, both riding horses at full gallops. And yet, Chan’s mother arrives a mere two minutes after she does, despite leaving considerably after her and having to battle what appear to be ninjas–several times–on her way to the palace. Yeah. Ninjas in the T’ang dynasty. I’m not worried about spoilers, because really, you should not see this film.
Have I mentioned how much I enjoyed dinner with Jay?
Oh my. Jason Sizemore is running a poll about the Apex issue six stories of which my “Cerbo en Vitro ujo” is one. The comments make me chuckle because everytime someone compliments a story it’s with phrases that would be perjorative if it weren’t about horror. Who knew that disturbing people was so much fun?
I’ve been having all kinds of trouble with downtime at my old hosting provider so I’ve switched to a new company. It will take 24-48 hours for the nameservers to proprogater through the internet, which means that my website will come back online at different times for different people. If you wouldn’t mind, would you post a comment about when you can see my website again?
What, I say, what was up with the thousand brides wandering around at the end of the Olympic Ceremony. The problem with not having commentary is that I’ve got no idea what they thought that would represent, or what the seemingly random burlesque/clown/royal court was about.
Okay…and now there’s someone dancing in what gives every appearance of being a carpet. Why?
Rob thinks it’s all to drive people out of the stadium. I suspect that it’s perhaps a dadaist choreographer–find order in random chaos.
Oh wait, it’s not a dancing carpet. It’s a dancing playing card. I’m going to bed now.
So far we’ve found the German, Danish and Italian coverage of the Olympics. The thing that they have in common is that they don’t comment during the events, only before and after each competitor goes. We’re watching the Italian channel because they sound sexier.
The other thing, and this is really cool, is that they show everyone competing in an event. In the US, we only see the top ten, the contenders. We’re watching the Women’s Figure Skating right now and seeing the foks who are coming in at the 18th and 22nd spot. It makes me really appreciate the top competitors in ways that all of the commentaries never do. I mean, this woman, who is the best figureskater in Uzbekhistan comes to the Olympics and sees what? 21 iceskaters who are better than she is. We’re talking about iceskaters so good that they win a medal even with fall. It’s not that the lesser competitors fall more, but the whole program is not as good. It’s very interesting. And you can see it in their faces when they finish. They know that they’ve got no chance of medaling; it’s just a matter of seeing how far down the ranks they are.
I had a rough day at camp today. One of the little girls is selfish, obnoxious, manipulative and I don’t like her. The kids made stick horses, which turned out really cute. At the end of class I told them to put them all at one end of the room while we joined the rest of camp for snack time at the other end.
As I walked past the snack table I saw that little Miss Snippy had her stick horse, which she’d been waving in my face and everyone else’s, so I told her to put it away.
“But it’s all the way over there. Can you put it away for me?” she said.
“No, it’s all the way over there for me too.”
“But,” she whined, “you’re a teacher. It’s your job to help kids.”
Biting my tongue, I took a breath and then replied, “It’s my job to help children who are having trouble, not children who didn’t follow instructions in the first place.”
“But I’ll lose my place in line.”
“There’s no one behind you. You’re the last one in line.” I turned and walked away, straight into the teacher’s lounge where I announced that I didn’t like her.
I’ve had children who don’t pay attention, or are disruptive, but not one that’s so openly manipulative. She’ll be like this when she grows up, it’ll just be more subtle.
So, I was very grouchy on my way home, but when I got there I found a box. My dear friend’s in NYC who let me stay with them when I come out have a fantastically appointed kitchen. The last time I was out, I was helping Marlene in the kitchen and commented on her sets of mixing bowls. She has a set of nesting glass bowls that come in every imaginable size and a set of steel bowls that are perfect. I mentioned that I covet them.
Today, without any provocation, Marlene sent me a set of nesting steel bowls. So, very, very kind.
Ginger Stuyvesant, an American heiress living in London during World War I, is engaged to Captain Benjamin Harford, an intelligence officer. Ginger is a medium for the Spirit Corps, a special Spiritualist force. Each soldier heading for the front is conditioned to report to the mediums of the Spirit Corps when they die so the Corps […]