Catching Ducks

I've always been a very pale person. To start with, my ancestors come from places like Scotland and Denmark. I burn quite easily, so if I'm out in the sun, I always wear sunscreen. On top of that, I don't particularly like being outside, especially if it's sunny. All this has led to me being one of the white-est white people in the history of white-folk.

When I was in high school, my friends would tease me that my skin was the same color as my white socks! I was a little self-conscious, but never enough to actually, you know, tan. I knew I was more likely to burn than tan, plus I'm not a big fan of skin cancer, plus I saw plenty of girls my age who tanned who were already looking rather wrinkly. But more than anything, I just didn't care that much. I was comfortable with my skin color.

At some point somebody invented fake tan. (When, I have no clue. It wasn't like I was paying attention!) While I get think it's great that it's safer than actually tanning, I still don't understand the appeal.

What's wrong with being your own skin color? I just don't get it.

Recently I've been running across cookie recipes that tell me to remove the cookies from the baking sheet immediately, but when I do, the cookies fall apart! If I leave them on the sheet for a minute or so, they come off the sheet much more easily. What's up with that?

From the ever-brilliant Bill Watterson:


Calvin: Know what I pray for?
Hobbes: What?
Calvin: The strength to change what I can, the inability to accept what I can't, and the incapacity to tell the difference.
Hobbes: You should lead an interesting life.
Calvin: Oh, I already do!

Labels: Calvin and Hobbes

So I went to my first baseball game in I-don't-know-how-long (15 years?). I wouldn't say that I enjoyed it, but I did find it pretty amusing. It was a rather fascinating study in human behavior. I felt like an alien from another world. Everyone acted so bizarrely! It was very interesting....

My mom's been trying to talk me into going to a Mariner's game forever. For some bizarre reason, I actually said yes yesterday. So today I'm off to Safeco field. I figure it's a win-win situation. Either I'll have fun (unlikely), or I won't, and my mom will quit bugging me!

This is a fragment of a poem by Sappho. I've seen several translations, but my favorite was translated by one of my college professors, Sheila Colwell.



The moon has set and
the Pleiades are gone; it is
midnight, time passes,
and I sleep alone.

Labels: poetry

Last summer I followed Tofutti Cutie's lead and hacked a foot off of my hair for charity. (Locks of Love)

Afterwards I cried. It felt so short! It looked so short!

Finally it's starting to feel long again. Sometimes. When I comb it, it still feels short. But when I look at it in the mirror, I can see that it's grown several inches. Hooray for hair growth! Yay! Yay!

But I wouldn't mind it growing faster -- it's still five inches from my waist!

Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday dear Ja-ack,
Happy Birthday to you!


Your presents are going to be late, btw. I haven't even mailed them yet! But that just means your birthday lasts longer, right?

Right??

Oh well. Sorry!

For me, I think the thing that makes me feel like spring has arrived is the smell of fresh cut grass. I caught a whiff while running errands today. It smelled so good! Spring often annoys me because I know summer is coming soon, but on days like today (cloudy, windy, and cool), I rather enjoy this season. And the grass smell -- yum!

From the best tv show ever (aka Farscape), this is Rygel talking to an unconscious Crichton:


I don't care what Aeryn thinks, you certainly look dead to me. I don't know your customs for these situations -- not that I care -- so I'll give you the Hynerian Ceremony of Passage, and be done with it. Ahem. John Crichton: valued friend ... Now, wait a minute, "valued friend" is a bit of a stretch. John Crichton: unwelcome shipmate. May you have safe transport to the Hallowed Realm. Actually, not our Hallowed Realm. No, that's for Hynerians. Go find your own Hallowed Realm. With the Ceremony of Passage complete, I declare you officially dead, and claim all your possessions for myself.

From The Decline and Fall of Practically Everybody by Will Cuppy:


"Peter [the Great]'s habit of forcing all and sundry to drink huge bowls of brandy until they dropped senseless to the floor, or died, might not appeal to some constitutions."


[I thought it was appropriate considering my bout of food poisoning this week....]

Do



you



think



I



have



enough



books



??



(Keep in mind that the paperbacks are stacked two or three deep, depending on the bookshelf!)