Times I Wish I Had My Camera: Number 1,475 in a Series
At lunch today, when I saw the new H2 Hummer parked across 2 1/2 compact parking spaces.
sigh
Do you have the Gary Coleman radio spots for CashCall in your area? They start with something like:
Hi, I’m Gary Coleman. You may think of me as a rich celebrity, but I’m a working guy just like you…
Gary, I would never think of you as a rich celebrity.
There are few things more inspiring than having your iTunes playing on “Party Shuffle” all day long, and putting your headphones on just as the fast part of The Who’s Pinball Wizard comes on.
OK, I think I have enough wood lined up, a basic design, and pairs of some of my more favorite animals (I don’t intend to track down any of the boring ones like billy goats, only exotic or deadly ones like pirahna and llamas), but I’m not exactly sure of the scaling. How big, exactly, is 40 cubits? Get back to me pretty quick because the water’s already up to my ankles.
The weird thing about massive blogger-stardom (as I have with my all of 40 readers) is that it makes the practice extremely non-private.
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Which is a strange thing to say, not only because a mass-published weblog is inherently non-private, but also because I’m pretty sure “non-private” is a grammatical and vocabularic nightmare (yes, I just made up vocabularic, feel free to use it… with the appropriate royalty and credit given).
I just looked up “vocabularic” on dictionary.com not make sure I hadn’t stumbled into a higher plane of intelligence. I hadn’t.
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At any rate, before anyone really knew about my blog, I could write about anything, and that was the point. Even then, though, I wasn’t really all that personal in my blog because just enough people knew about it to keep me slightly censored. So censored, in fact, that one close friend told me that she hadn’t found anything even remotely indicative of how awesome I am (I may have embellished that last bit… slightly).
Now, a lot of people know about it. Or, more correctly, a lot of people I know know about it, which has increased the censorship… or at least increased the performance anxiety.
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This is not a “Dear John” post, by the way, I’m just saying.
This increased self-censoring doesn’t really effect me too much, because my posts have always been mostly observational, not introspective. The problem, though, is that I am now less and less publicly observational about things going on with friends and work… and that’s a lot of good material.
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I’m thinking I need to loosen back up a bit, and let the chips fall where they may. Or perhaps I should set up a personal, secret blog. But what, then, would feed my narcissism?
I had a dream last night in which the neighbors were having sex. It wasn’t a particularly erotic dream as I couldn’t see them or anything. It was more informational, like, “Ah, hear that noise? The neighbors are having sex.” This went on for a bit, and then I woke up for real… to the neighbors having sex… at 5:00AM. Bravo Kevin and Robin, bravo.
Tsunami Relief
.: American Red Cross via Amazon
.: Unicef
.: Listing of over 50 relief organizations
You go away for a few days and grumble about crowded airports and babies on planes. Then, you come back to the real world and learn about 22,000 155,000+ dead in the countries surrounding the Indian Ocean and decide to shut the hell up because your life’s little problems are even smaller than you thought. What else can an observer say?
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A first-hand account from a Washington Post reporter swimming in Sri Lanka when the tsunami hit.
What are tsunamis?
Tsunami highlights lack of warning system
I was just checking the baggage restrictions on my airline of choice to prepare myself for some sweet holiday traveling. I clicked around until I found the “Special Baggage” section, which is, among other things, for odd-shaped cargo like skis, tubas, and the like. It is not, unfortunately, for desktop computers (I assume for liability reasons); which means I will now need to next-day ship my hand-me-down Dell to my parents.
That was not the funny part.
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The funny part is that on the tabbed list of “special items”, the clicking of which would lead to a more thorough explanation of the vagaries of transporting said item, the first item listed was Antlers.
Antlers.
This means at least two things:
1) Enough people fly with their antlers to necessitate a tab and,
2) ANTLERS!
