Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Piracy teams.

Though the New York Times may be loathe to admit it, I think "piracy teams" or some variant thereof may be WAY cooler than "warez groups."

"Warez" is so 1998.

Go pirates!

ETA: Um, apparently I put the wrong link in there, so I just deleted the hyperlink. The sentiments, however, stand.

Sunday, August 28, 2005

I am a slug.

This weekend, I have done a fat pile of absolutely nothing. Yesterday was dedicated to watching TV shows and movies that happened to be on TV. Today, I watched another DVD and I want to do pretty much nothing at all.

I mean, I'm watching the fuzzy PBS cooking shows. They're cooking meat, for god's sake. I don't ever even cook meat. The occasional fish filet, maybe, but beyond that, I have no need for knowing how to prepare osso buco the right way, but now I sort of know. Damn you, America's Test Kitchen, for being so fascinating. Now it's Barbecue University with Steven Raichlen. Oddly enough, I have one of this guy's books--but it's called Low Fat, High Flavor Vegetarian Cooking, and there are some pretty tasty things in it. And a lot of things I would never make, but they look pretty.

Oh, he's preparing some salmon. Because you can't visit Seattle without sampling salmon, even though he's in West Virginia. Man, I haven't had salmon in a long fucking time. And he's talking about Ivar's! Holy crap! Damn you for making me miss Seattle, even if it's something as inconsequential to me as Ivar's.

On Friday, Kevin and I did our semi-regular Ethiopian dinner out, which was good as always. Afterwards, I wanted to pick up the new John Vanderslice album, so we went to Streetlight on Bascom. I bought more stuff than necessary, but I do have the new John Vanderslice, among other things.

Yesterday I watched the rest of the second season of Home Movies, which I didn't enjoy as much as the first for some reason, and the last disc of the first season of Deadwood, which was so fucking great I increased my Netflix rating of it to 5 stars. That show took a few episodes to get into, but now I'm clamoring for the next season to come out on DVD.

Broadcast TV had a surprising number of non-shitty movies on yesterday: UPN aired The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai and This Is Spinal Tap back to back, which I watched despite missing the first hour and a half of Banzai and owning an uncensored VHS copy of Tap, and in the evening, PBS showed Fargo. Sweet. I totally do not need cable.

Or that's what I keep telling myself.

I watched Jackie Brown this morning. I liked it more than I expected to, though I think I would've given it the same number of stars either way. Tarantino has to really suck before I give under 4 stars for his shit.

Speaking of suck, I am disappointed in the reviews The Brothers Grimm is getting. I can't be the only one. Terry Gilliam, what did you do to make your movie something I avoided on its opening weekend? Why? It's not fair!

I have in front of me a recipe for beet curry. I think I'll go attempt it in a bit.

Friday, August 26, 2005

Upcoming shows of hooray.

12 Sept. - The Decemberists @ The Fillmore
Tickets are in my desk. The 11th was sold out when I got them!

13 Oct. - Dan Bern @ The Attic (Santa Cruz)
I'm told he's an interesting performer. I definitely like his songs.

22 Oct. - The Gossip @ Bottom of the Hill
Who's in? Is my sister the only other Gossip fan I know in the area? You people.

5 Nov. - John Vanderslice @ The Independent
I'm fairly certain Kevin would actually go to this. Would love it if others would come see this guy.

I am sure there are more to come.

Thursday, August 25, 2005

Excited ornithologists and lethargy.

For whatever reason, I've been in the shittiest mood today. I've been shrieking louder and longer at those drivers around me who are stupid and getting bored as fuck by NPR's long reports about fucking ornithologists and their search for some kind of woodpecker sound clip. I am tired and cranky and I was irritated at work and bitched out a guy on IRC for no real reason.

I am so ready for the fucking weekend. Not that I have plans, but fuck. I'm tired.

I've done some things this week that were good. Last night was the Rufus Wainwright/Ben Folds show at the Mountain Winery way up in the hills in Saratoga. You'd never know Silicon Valley was so ugly from the view in the parking lot. I've never heard crickets chirping between songs, either. It's a rather nice outdoor venue and I enjoyed the performances. Kevin and I grabbed falafels from Gyro's House in Mountain View on the way there, which are always delicious.

I don't have much to say about them right now because...I'm fucking tired, but I feel sort of obligated to just post something because I haven't in a few days, and since this is really more for my own benefit than yours, I'd like a basic record of what has happened in my life. Yes, that's the point of a paper journal, but I don't seem to bother with those consistently enough. I do with this.

On Tuesday, I hung out with the Editor and saw The 40-Year-Old Virgin. I was not terribly impressed, though it had its moments. It felt way too long and tried to do a few too many things, but there were some genuine laughs.

I've been making a pretty decent lunch this week, which is described below:

-1/2 c. bulghur
-big handful baby spinach, chopped
-1/2 can chickpeas, drained
-12 or so cherry tomatoes, sliced in half
-feta cheese, if you like
-salt and lemon juice to taste

Soak the bulghur in enough water to give it the right texture. Add everything else and mix.

-1/4 c. plain yogurt (I've been using nonfat Greek)
-1 clove garlic, crushed and minced
-salt and lemon juice to taste

Mix everything together until it's creamy and set aside. Stir into the bulghur mixture when you're ready to eat it. This takes 15 minutes, tops, with chopping and everything.

Today I made some crappy pasta because the company-provided lunch was non-vegetarian. Well, there were some corn muffins and a basic salad (iceberg + romaine + red cabbage). It was from a barbeque joint. I couldn't even go in there because the smell of meat was so overpowering. (Sound dramatic much? Sorry. I don't mind meat smells mixed with other smells, but a predominantly meat aroma is...disconcerting.)

Anyway, I need to de-bitchify and think more positively and eat more tomato pizza.

Monday, August 22, 2005

2-1/2 restaurant reviews and two movies.

This weekend, my family visited four restaurants and ate at two. Only we can spend hours stomping around the foodie capital of America and come up starving and empty-handed at 9 on a Sunday night.

Lunch was an easy, if terrifyingly expensive, choice in Rose Pistola. The food was delicious and the service fine, though the price is enough to drive away any thought of returning. My brother had the penne with beef bolognese--shocking--while my mom and sister and I shared several antipasti: a roast beet salad with chunks of cheese, a spreckled romaine and red grape salad with a wonderful vinaigrette, an absolutely divine caprese with melt-in-your-mouth buffalo mozzarella and gorgeous heirloom tomatoes, a trio of bruschetta, and, most interestingly, deep-fried chickpeas with capers and lemon zest.

As we were visiting the Haight, Margot suggested a place called Asquew for dinner, which is an informal, inexpensive, healthy, and most likely tasty kebab spot, but we ended up not eating there due to the lack of available seating. We poked around a few thrift stores before heading back towards my sister's place.

We got off the bus a little early and decided to eat at a Greek restaurant on Polk we'd been to a few years ago. A large party had been seated just ahead of us, so we agreed to wait 10 minutes for a table. We looked at the menu and decided what to order while we waited, but when we were actually seated, no one came to take our order, bring us water, or even say hello. For thirty fucking minutes. The waiter spent ten minutes chatting with a another table, a party who were seated *after* we were. They got their orders, even. We stormed out.

Eventually, we ate at a little Italian place on Post called Caffe Bella Valencia or something like that. The prices were not unreasonable and the food was decent. The pasta was overcooked, but the flavors were all right. The service was a little slow after the initial bringing of water and bread and taking of the orders, but the place seemed somewhat busy and it was the poor guy's first night. Or that's what they told everyone to compensate for mediocre service. It took for-freaking-ever to get the check, and at that point, I wanted nothing more than the hop on BART and go to bed. On the plus side, I have leftovers for lunch, including my brother's vegetable side and polenta, which he mistook for potatoes and did not much care for.

On Saturday, mom and my brother were staying with us in Milpitas, so we had to devise some way to spend the day. My brother really wanted to see The Aristocrats, which is unlikely to show in Olympia soon, plus mom should never see that movie. She would be horrified. Comedy is something my brother and I have always bonded over--it's my fault that he's the only kid I knew who was reading The Onion at 12. The theater at Santana Row was playing Broken Flowers at 2, the same time as The Aristocrats was playing at the Camera 7, so we dropped her off for the less offensive film and went to ours. It was really entertaining and, we thought, surprisingly tame. Or we're just horribly desensitized, or context is everything.

Later, mom told us she looked up the joke online. She gave us quite a look.

Late Saturday night, after we'd feasted on tilapia filets I smeared with a potent mixture of spices and a garlicky greek yogurt sauce, mom and I watched The Motorcycle Diaries. She lent me the DVD at the beginning of the summer and I never got around to watching it, so I needed to do that and give it back to her while she was here. It was a damn fine film, and not entirely too heavy-handed considering the subject matter. Might have been nicer on something larger than a laptop screen, though.

It was good to see the family, but it was a very long weekend, and I am really tired today. I am a little concerned that my allergies are flaring up again, after months of respite, or that I'm coming down with a cold. Either of these possibilities would suck, but I am hoping a good night's sleep will do the trick. Heh.

Otherwise, I fully anticipate being a snot-nosed medicine head at Wednesday's Ben Folds and Rufus Wainwright show.

Thursday, August 18, 2005

(Ab)using Waiter.com.

I'm not sure how, but I made it almost to age 24 without really feeling much love for takeout. Oh, sure, I've used it--I can't count the number of times I ducked into a teriyaki joint on the Ave for chicken teriyaki (back when I wasn't a hippie) and some of that cabbage salad with the strange and wonderful dressing to take home and enjoy for the next two meals. Or the cheap and delicious lunch-is-anytime special Chinese that my Hong Kong-born roommate swore by. Or the time only a styrofoam container of bi bim bap could soothe my angry mind. Or, naturally, the zillions of boxes of leftover Thai.

No, since moving to California, takeout has been a bland experience, dotted with overpriced and surly Whole Foods lunches, cheap but bland Togo's sandwiches, and vegetarian Chinese that was of a sub-par quality compared to its in-restaurant brethren. Until recently, we suffered under the early closures of area restaurants--10 p.m. is hardly late for the man who gets home at 9 and his girlfriend who staves off the hunger pains with unnecessary junk food.

But there is a solution, and it's one so beautiful, I find myself wondering what the catch is: Waiter.com.

The Internet. No phone, no need of a photocopied takeout menu, just a few clicks and a short drive before closing and bam, there's your bag of delicious food. It works for pizza that is far more delicious (and expensive) than Pizza Hut. It works for goddamn burrito joints. Tonight we got Indian, which was so enormously satisfying, I don't even care that I was eating the Indian equivalent of supersized french fries in my order of spinach pakoras. They were too delicious, and came with three vats of equally delicious chutneys. The moong masala dosa, while not up to my beloved Udupi Palace standards, especially taking into account the comparative distance. I didn't even have to change out of my skanky workout clothes.

I am so full now, I could burst. And it's much later than I like eating, but I'll suffer through the inevitable bizarre dreams. Every gram of buttery fat is worth it.

Tomorrow my mom and brother will be here and the food wars will begin. Who will win: The middle-aged dieter, doing a damn fine job of working down her dress size? The tall not-quite-18-year-old with a penchant for steak, potatoes, and fettuccine alfredo? Or the neo-local with knowledge of area ethnic restaurants and a deep sympathy for vegans? Tune in next time.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

The first one is free.

Lately I've been thinking about the bands I like (or used to like) and the first songs I'd ever heard--or at least really listened to--by them. Only some of them have just one definite hook. The following is a list of some bands and the first song I heard by each of them, and maybe, just maybe, a little story.

Pulp, "I Spy"

I was reminded of this tonight as I listened to Different Class and sang along loudly. One summer, Becky and I visited our then-Internet-buddies Tristan and Sarah in Corvallis, Ore. Tristan sat us down in an overcast parking lot by the river and placed a pair of giant headphones on each of our ears and played this song.

Luna, "23 Minutes in Brussels"

This was the work of Sammy. I listened to this and iimmediately wanted more.

Blur, "Beetlebum"

Yeah, so everyone heard "Song 2," but it was a 1-minute clip of "Beetlebum" that made me get the album. I'm kind of a sucker.

The Mountain Goats, "See America Right"

Gabe sent me this mp3 like a hundred years ago. I didn't pick up Tallahassee for a couple years, but I did get a few other albums. It took me awhile to be convinced based on this song alone, but there's no turning back. (Had he sent "No Children," I don't think wild horses could have stopped me from running up to fucking Cellophane Square and dropping full price on the CD.)

The Decemberists, "The Soldiering Life"

A KRS freebie that, in conjunction with a damn fine Bumbershoot set in ought-three, forced me to buy a CD that, while it isn't their best, got me in line with the Youth and Beauty Brigade.

DJ Shadow, "Midnight in a Perfect World"

Probably everyone's first DJ Shadow, considering how many between-NPR-bits it occupies, among other things, but you know what? For good reason.

Ben Folds Five, "Battle of Who Could Care Less"

I know, it was a radio single, but there is a little story behind why this song, which I absolutely loved, failed to get me to obtain the album for years. I heard it on the radio once and was excited. The second time, I managed to tape it--at the time, I carried around a 90-minute cassette full of songs I liked that I taped off the radio--and listened to it on my Walkman for weeks. I forced certain friends to listen to it, and they hated it, so I didn't buy it. And that is a lesson about the power of peer pressure.

Built to Spill, "I Could Hurt a Fly"

Ah, finally, something Kevin sent me. There isn't much else to say about it, but this song rocks, and I really like BTS now. Yay.

Anyone else got a list of firsts?

Monday, August 15, 2005

Dorkier than DDR.

I have started working out. To a video game. No, not DDR. Worse than DDR.

Yourself! Fitness.

For fucking serious, the exclamation point is in there.

It's totally designed for soccer moms. And it is kicking my ass.

I am super uncoordinated, so some of the movements are like whoa, but overall? I sweated and I will be sore. That's probably a good thing. And it's slightly less embarrassing than actually going to a gym, and a hell of a lot cheaper. It also doesn't require me to leave the house and potentially interact with my potentially irritating suburban neighbors, for whom I feel vague scorn, just because. I am a horrible person.

However, I have many delicious snacks in my house. I am hoping Kevin will help me consume at least some of them, as they are all vegan: apple pie (*vegan* apple pie, natch), organic raspberries, and Double Rainbow chocolate sorbet (bestest sorbet in the westest), and a 70% dark chocolate "save the animals or whatever" bar. (I do think that brand is silly. They give something like 10% of profits to some vaguely animal-related charity. The chocolate is decent, however, and reasonably priced, so I'll buy it sometimes.) I imagine he won't partake of the chocolate items, but he personally OK'ed the pie, so he better be in for at least half.

Fuck, I'm hungry. Today my awesome vegetarian coworker--with whom I have split pretty much every lunch since she started--brought homemade idly, which was all kinds of delicious. If you've never had them, idly are a little white cake made of ground-up rice or rice flour and a pale dahl, with a texture sort of resembling polenta. In restaurants, they are usually served with a cup of sambar, which is a kind of vegetable soup for dipping. She taught me how to eat it like she does, which is to put a couple idlies in a bowl and pour the sambar over it, then used the spoon to cut up the idly so more of the flavor soaks into it. Her sambar had something I thought was potato, but turned out to be bottleneck gourd, which was really tasty.

While I'm on the food kick, Kevin and I tried a Lebanese restaurant in Fremont the other night. The proprieters were chatting with a family when we got there, so we overheard some of their discussion of Beirut (apparently, it's a nice place) and how the restaurant had been at that location for something like 20 years. Impressive. We tried the fattoush salad, which was a little too tangy to finish, the falafel sandwich, and the veggie combo. (Sometime I think I should write about the "veggie combo" at several different restaurants.) The combo featured falafel, hummus, and yabraks, which appear to be the Lebanese version of dolmas. I didn't try those, but the hummus was delicious and the falafels were awesome. They were rich with spice and had a good texture, an even consistency, and weren't too greasy or crispy. Next time we go, I'd like to try the tabbouleh, order the falafels as an appetizer--just eat 'em straight or with some hummus--and try this one thing the owners had the table next to us try: something like hummus, but made with cauliflower. That sounded so intriguing.

And finally, here's this week's roundup of Netflix rentals:

Deadwood: Season 1, disc 3: This shit is getting good. I wasn't totally digging it immediately, but something about it said, "Give me a chance, you cocksucker." So I did, and I'm definitely into it now.

Ran: I have now officially seen it. Damn good and beautiful and fucking long as fuck.

Hard Eight: P.T. Anderson's first movie boasts an impressive cast and isn't a bad movie. I was expecting way more violence than it had, though, and I am not sure I totally understood the main character's motivations. It seems like it might bear repeated viewings, but that isn't high on my priority list.

Sunday, August 14, 2005

A tip for how not to feel like an idiot.

If you have any kind of evidence that you were ever under the age of 18, don't go looking at it.

For example, I have on one of my hard drives several versions of several websites I created and maintained while I was in high school. I should not have done that. I should definitely not have kept them. And I should especially not be looking at them now, because wow, that's depressing.

Also, I liked crap. And I used smileys to excess. And quoted lyrics ALL THE TIME (okay, so that's not changed too much, but it should have).

I may be a dork now, but I was dork^n back then.

Saturday, August 13, 2005

I hope we both die.

The following is the subject line of an email I received today from Amazon.com:

Amazon.com recommends Funeral

I hope you die, too, Amazon. I hope we both die.

Just saw Broken Flowers. The people I saw it with said the trailer gave away all the jokes, but they still enjoyed it, and I did too. With movies like that, it seems best to avoid detailed reviews and trailers prior to seeing the movie. I'd rather have the ability to absorb it, unbiased. Unless liking Jim Jarmusch and Bill Murray counts as bias, which I'd imagine it does a little. It's the first Jarmusch movie that I found laugh-out-loud funny, though his others are funny, too.

Afterwards, we sipped iced tea and enjoyed the manufactured environment of Santana Row. It was sunny, but not too warm, and there was a breeze. We complained about the Disneyland Main Street USA for the Platinum card set-ness of it all, but secretly, it's not that the place is manufactured that arouses my suspicions. It's the lack of non-manufactured alternatives. It's great to have a place to sit comfortably, sip tea, and chat with friends, just as it's great to have a giant bookstore where you can browse all kinds of reading material and get a coffee and sit on a couch, but something about the experience at Santana Row, just like at Borders/Barnes & Noble, rings false. That's what makes me sad.

Friday, August 12, 2005

Rob writes a rap.

About me. Hee.

[roboter] emily's burning it up. west coast! you suckas don't front it.
[roboter] emily's like Bam! like cannon. cause thats her last name.
[roboter] I'm making a rap song about emily.
[roboter] take notes! you dead wrong. emily fix your spellin. she's got it going on.

Then he had to go work.

What's that? Yes, Rob IS the coolest mothafucka in Yuma, Arizona.

Thursday, August 11, 2005

The pizza that is, should be.

I am awesome with the cheater pizza. Awesome, I say.

Tonight's concoction: whole wheat dough, spread 1/4" thin and round, with sauteed red onion, diced marinated fire-roasted red peppers, artichoke hearts, and a healthy sprinkling of red pepper flakes, topped with chopped baby spinach, feta, and a mixture of "Mediterranean" cheeses that melt nicely. After this is baked until the cheese is bubbly and the crust is lightly browned, add slices of some gorgeous fresh heirloom tomato.

This takes under 15 minutes, not counting the baking and the anticipation.

It's nice when being lazy pays off.

A post that is not a list.

Here's a possible first since moving to California: I got out of the house two nights in a row. Both times because of the Editor.

When we first started talking, he'd made a generous offer of sitting down to talk about writing with me. I took him up on it, at least as a first step, because god knows I've written jack shit since college. It was a very encouraging talk, and he gave me a lot to think about and specific things to do, which I'm gonna do. (I hate saying it that way, though, because I keep saying I'M GONNA DO SOMETHING and then not doing it. I have to work on my follow-through.)

Tonight he called me up and said I should come to this deal in Mountain View his paper was having, and despite my usual array of social anxieties, I showed up. It ended up being pretty cool, and I got to meet some of his staffers, which provided further ass-kicking in the direction of not being a lump anymore.

Jesus, that was convoluted. I want to write?

There was also a guy from the local Green Party, who gave us a half-drunken spiel about energy conservation and Green activism and tried to sell us stickers. Another guy, upon hearing my name, complimented it, saying it sounded very East Coast. I told him that was funny, because I'm West Coast through and through.

Anyway, back to the writing thing, since I'm trying to concentrate on it. I need to think about--make a list--of topics I'd like to write about. Story ideas. It's difficult for me to get into that mindset. It was difficult even when it was what I had to do, though not for a living, but for school. So that's task no. 1.

The trouble now lays in my horrible complacency. I may complain about boredom and not wanting to stagnant, but part of me is happy to be in a fairly comfortable--though who knows how ultimately unstable--place, at least for the moment. Then, when I think about breaking out of that mold, I have to confront my insecurities and anxieties, which are numerous, but whose aren't? What's so fucking insurmountable about mine that I can't get over them enough to do something I want to do when other people have?

So there's all that inward-thinking, which, in addition to merely exacerbating the aforementioned insecurities and anxieties, cloud any judgment I have with regard to what's interesting in the world that I could write about. Hah.

I do know that I won't be happy if I stay where I am forever, or even in a place close to it. It's not fulfilling. There's a lot of good in it, but my heart isn't in it. I can only cut my teeth for so long before they start to dull.

Monday, August 08, 2005

Oceanographer's choice.


Well, guy in a skeleton costume goes up to the guy
In the Superman suit and runs through him with a broadsword.

(Link swiped from Defamer.)


Wouldn't it be great if they made a tiny cell phone that was designed so the earpiece was on your thumb and the mouthpiece was on your pinky?

Think about it.

Things I did this weekend.

A list:

1. Spent too much on dinner at Citronelle with my boyfriend. It was open late and I remembered incorrectly where the restaurant we wanted to try existed, so it was out of desperation.

2. Slept in, in the only way I can: by waking up early, then passing out repeatedly until I get bored.

3. Went to TJ Maxx and bought a lightweight black hoodie and a nice Anolon hard anodized 10"/3-qt. saute pan.

4. Watched the last disc of Homicide season 3.

5. Ordered and picked up some pizza from Amici's again.

6. Slept in slightly less.

7. Watched the second disc of Deadwood season 1, which warmed me to the show.

8. Took a walk around the part of the Don Edwards SF Bay National Wildlife Refuge that has an entrance in Alviso. Saw a pretty sunset and some pretty birds and things.

9. Got burritos for dinner.

10. Now there is a fucking jackhammer outside. It's time to go.

Sunday, August 07, 2005

Because I am a big dork...

I'm totally excited to learn that there is an open source layout program: Scribus.

Not that almost anyone besides me will give a shit, but whoa.

It appears to have the same basic functionality as Quark and Adobe's products, though the interface and navigation are going to take some getting used to. I had the same problem with the GIMP at first, and now it all makes sense.

Anyway, it made me think that I'd like to do the zine project with as much open source stuff as possible. Not in an overt way; I don't want it to be *about* open source by any means, but I'd like to make something that uses open source and isn't a purely geek exercise. I think open source is way cool, and it would be fun to apply it to something other than my minimal Linux skills.

Friday, August 05, 2005

Life as a situation comedy.

Two tales of Friday:

1. My boyfriend, leaning heavily on Curb Your Enthusiasm for inspiration, wants to start carrying marbles with him to restaurants. With the marbles, he plans to test waitstaff patience by experimenting with the angle of the table surface. Will it roll? How much is the table tilted?

He thinks this would make a great focus for a restaurant review site, though he is unwilling to dissuade people from trying a restaurant based on his own reviews. I asked if the reviews would focus on the flatness of the eating surface or the quality of the food, and he said both.

A side note: In high school, I carried around a small velveteen pouch containing two marbles and a semi-precious stone with the word "Peace" engraved on it. The latter was inside the pouch to symbolize "inner peace," (I know) but the marbles I carried around just so I wouldn't lose them. When I told Kevin that, he thought it was ridiculous. I'd lose them if I carried them around instead of keeping them in a safe place, he said. I said I didn't lose them then, but upon reflection, I don't know where they are now, so I guess I've lost my marbles.

2. Apologies to my coworker, should he ever find this, but he came into my office this afternoon just to tell me about a dream he'd had the night before. Apparently, his dream had a commercial. A commercial for Jennifer Aniston Sings Motown and R&B hits. He said he could hear her nasally voice in his dream.

I thought that was beautiful.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

The best things always find me.

Sunday night ended up being some fun, as Kevin's dad, his girlfriend, and her daughter all stopped by in the evening. We hung out and ate ice cream (uh, well, mostly it was Kevin's dad and his girlfriend's daughter and I who polished off two pints of Haagen-Dazs, but who's counting) and played Apples to Apples. Kevin's dad beat everyone by a long shot.

(Side note to the Harem: It's hard to play the "Your Mom" custom card in a group where one player's mom is present, one player's dad is present and divorced from that player's mom, and one player's mom is deceased.)

Their impromptu visit spurred a rapid housecleaning effort by yours truly, as the house was in its usual embarrassingly disgusting state. Kevin's dad went into the backyard and picked up three grocery bags' worth of apples that had fallen to the ground but weren't rotten or wormy and took them home to juice.

The house stayed clean enough that I wasn't too embarrassed to ask the Editor over to watch a movie when he suggested we go catch one in the theater Monday night. I couldn't get the monitor in the living room to turn on, so I dragged Kevin's 13" TV out, swiped the RCA cable from my TV, and hooked up the hacked CyberHome player on a chair two feet from the couches. This worked out well, at least as soon as Kevin dug up the remote so we could turn on the subtitles.

The movie was Eyes Without a Face, a French thriller from 1959. It was damn good and creepy, though in retrospect, the concept of face-stealing seems ridiculous. It does make me wonder when cosmetic surgery became well-known, though, because that would have sort of negated the need for the entire plot of the film. And also, apparently Paris police are dumb. But it was enjoyable.

One complaint I have about Netflix is the lack of labeling things as Criterion Collection releases, and it would be nice to be able to search for those as well. Reckless Video in my old Seattle neighborhood had a special Criterion shelf, and it was always cool to pick something out of that and know I'd end up with something worthwhile.

I've been working on a small project at work that requires a modicum of creative thought. Imagine that. I also worked on five regular projects before 11, only to spend most of the rest of the day twiddling my thumbs. Sheesh.

I wish I had more interesting things to say, but I don't. I'm boring. Sorry.

The zine project is still being contemplated. I have emailed several of you and I EXPECT to hear back. Hah. (Jesse gets a pass due to the whole getting-married-in-Romania thing, but the rest of you!) My sister has offered to draw a political comic off "Stay Hungry." What will YOU do?