31 December 2014
Happy New Year
30 December 2014
On Your Left!
29 December 2014
Beastquake II
SB Nation has 13 things to appreciate about Marshawn Lynch's amazing run:
#3 is a side-by-side comparison with the original.
#6 "Waddling with speed might be the best way to describe Lynch's running style. He doesn't look like a speedster or even like a natural runner at all. Instead, he runs with a very wide base and maintains his balance at all times. That's why many times you'll see four, five or six players trying to gang tackle him all the time, and Lynch remaining upright at the end of the play with forward progress stopped."
#8 is a gif that lets you follow Ricardo Lockette and marvel at his speed.
#13 "Earl Thomas made the best effort to tackle Marshawn Lynch."
Bonus: Steve Raible's radio call.
#3 is a side-by-side comparison with the original.
#6 "Waddling with speed might be the best way to describe Lynch's running style. He doesn't look like a speedster or even like a natural runner at all. Instead, he runs with a very wide base and maintains his balance at all times. That's why many times you'll see four, five or six players trying to gang tackle him all the time, and Lynch remaining upright at the end of the play with forward progress stopped."
#8 is a gif that lets you follow Ricardo Lockette and marvel at his speed.
#13 "Earl Thomas made the best effort to tackle Marshawn Lynch."
Bonus: Steve Raible's radio call.
Labels: Seattle Seahawks
28 December 2014
Learning Languages
As someone who has taken French, ancient Greek, and ASL, I can confirm that this is 100% true:
x
x
Labels: grammar
27 December 2014
Nuggets
26 December 2014
Do As I Say, Not As I Capture On Film
From Carolyn Hax's Hootenanny of Holiday Horrors 2014:
Ah, that Christmas I was pregnant and my mother had been annoying the crap out of me with her esteemed parenting advice for several months by then. It was barely tolerable long-distance, but then with me home for the holidays I was on the edge of losing my mind. For some reason my dad decided to break out the old videocassettes of my childhood holidays. He used to set up a tripod and just leave the video-camera running for hours upon hours, so we had lots of boring footage UNTIL the nearly 30 minute clip of baby me, left alone in the room except for the video-camera filming me, systematically pulling ornaments off the tree and eating them. Like, swallowing chunks of non-edible semi-poisonous choking hazards. Magically, the esteemed parenting advice ended. And we no longer have to sit through hours of grainy footage of a Christmas tree. Win-win!
Ah, that Christmas I was pregnant and my mother had been annoying the crap out of me with her esteemed parenting advice for several months by then. It was barely tolerable long-distance, but then with me home for the holidays I was on the edge of losing my mind. For some reason my dad decided to break out the old videocassettes of my childhood holidays. He used to set up a tripod and just leave the video-camera running for hours upon hours, so we had lots of boring footage UNTIL the nearly 30 minute clip of baby me, left alone in the room except for the video-camera filming me, systematically pulling ornaments off the tree and eating them. Like, swallowing chunks of non-edible semi-poisonous choking hazards. Magically, the esteemed parenting advice ended. And we no longer have to sit through hours of grainy footage of a Christmas tree. Win-win!
Labels: holidays
25 December 2014
Carol of the Bells
24 December 2014
The Real Heroes
23 December 2014
Ok, Not OK
22 December 2014
A Retail Carol
At the store I used to work at, the busiest days of the year were the 22nd and 23rd of the December. So, so happy not to be there anymore!
[And I had to do the $%&! bank run...]
[And I had to do the $%&! bank run...]
Labels: comics, holidays, work
21 December 2014
The Great Christmas Bloodbath
From Carolyn Hax's Hootenanny of Holiday Horrors 2014:
Like many children, when I was growing up I had a hard time sleeping through the night on Christmas Eve. Early one Christmas morning when I was around 5 years old, I was in my bed awake waiting for it to be time to go upstairs and collect my stocking, when I heard a scream and loud thumps from my parents room upstairs. Curious and scared, I crept upstairs and tiptoed into my parents bedroom. What in front of my wondering eyes did appear than my father, passed out half on the bed, half on the floor with blood running down his face, and my mother passed out nearby clutching a bloody towel. I screamed, imagination running wild with visions of Santa Claus sneaking down the chimney and assaulting my parents. Luckily my screams awoke my mother who was able to calm me down. Turns out my father had a particularly realistic dream of being buzzed by a fly, jerked his sleeping head to avoid it and and rammed his forehead into the corner of his 1980s clock radio, cutting a big gash in it. He screamed, panicked and passed out at the sight of his own blood. My mother, aiming to help, stood up too fast and after grabbing a towel and beginning to apply it to the wound, passed out herself. That's where I entered to the bloody scene. My father spent Christmas with a giant bandage on his forehead, I was consoled with presents, and the day was dubbed The Great Christmas Bloodbath. We never were able to get all of the Christmas Blood out of the carpet.
Like many children, when I was growing up I had a hard time sleeping through the night on Christmas Eve. Early one Christmas morning when I was around 5 years old, I was in my bed awake waiting for it to be time to go upstairs and collect my stocking, when I heard a scream and loud thumps from my parents room upstairs. Curious and scared, I crept upstairs and tiptoed into my parents bedroom. What in front of my wondering eyes did appear than my father, passed out half on the bed, half on the floor with blood running down his face, and my mother passed out nearby clutching a bloody towel. I screamed, imagination running wild with visions of Santa Claus sneaking down the chimney and assaulting my parents. Luckily my screams awoke my mother who was able to calm me down. Turns out my father had a particularly realistic dream of being buzzed by a fly, jerked his sleeping head to avoid it and and rammed his forehead into the corner of his 1980s clock radio, cutting a big gash in it. He screamed, panicked and passed out at the sight of his own blood. My mother, aiming to help, stood up too fast and after grabbing a towel and beginning to apply it to the wound, passed out herself. That's where I entered to the bloody scene. My father spent Christmas with a giant bandage on his forehead, I was consoled with presents, and the day was dubbed The Great Christmas Bloodbath. We never were able to get all of the Christmas Blood out of the carpet.
Labels: holidays
20 December 2014
Silent Night
One of my least favorite carols, but I'll listen if Kelly Clarkson, Trisha Yearwood, and Reba McEntire are singing!
19 December 2014
Stitching the Pillow Already
From Carolyn Hax's 12/5/14 chat:
Q: My wife's parents are sponsoring a cruise for this Christmas, but I can't go because I have deadlines just before and just after New Year's. My assistant invited me to spend Christmas with her. Thing is my wife hates my assistant because she thinks I just hired her for her looks. She is amazing in every way, but I don't think it's a bad thing to have someone who looks gorgeous and is highly confident as your assistant--it keeps business smooth and clients are often nicer when she's around. So how do I deal with my wife's demand that I spend 14 hours Christmas Day in the office to PROVE that I really can't go on a cruise with deadlines on Dec. 29 and Jan. 5?
A: When you blow off Christmas with your wife, don't spend it with your hot assistant.
I'm stitching the pillow already.
Q: My wife's parents are sponsoring a cruise for this Christmas, but I can't go because I have deadlines just before and just after New Year's. My assistant invited me to spend Christmas with her. Thing is my wife hates my assistant because she thinks I just hired her for her looks. She is amazing in every way, but I don't think it's a bad thing to have someone who looks gorgeous and is highly confident as your assistant--it keeps business smooth and clients are often nicer when she's around. So how do I deal with my wife's demand that I spend 14 hours Christmas Day in the office to PROVE that I really can't go on a cruise with deadlines on Dec. 29 and Jan. 5?
A: When you blow off Christmas with your wife, don't spend it with your hot assistant.
I'm stitching the pillow already.
Labels: holidays
18 December 2014
Is It April Yet?
17 December 2014
No.
16 December 2014
How To Toothpaste
15 December 2014
May I Speak to Your Supervisor?
One of my favorite co-workers recently told me a story from her previous job, when she worked at a call center for a national company:
A man called with a complaint. The woman who answered the phone tried to help, but he demanded to speak to her supervisor, so she passed him on. The supervisor tried to help, but the man wasn't happy with her help, either, and demanded to speak to her boss. Her boss was my current co-worker. My co-worker tried to help the man. After a few minutes he said in frustration, "This just isn't working. Isn't there a man there who can help me??"
My co-worker replied: "Well, there's a janitor here. Would you like to speak to him?"
Needless to say, he shut up and let her help him.
A man called with a complaint. The woman who answered the phone tried to help, but he demanded to speak to her supervisor, so she passed him on. The supervisor tried to help, but the man wasn't happy with her help, either, and demanded to speak to her boss. Her boss was my current co-worker. My co-worker tried to help the man. After a few minutes he said in frustration, "This just isn't working. Isn't there a man there who can help me??"
My co-worker replied: "Well, there's a janitor here. Would you like to speak to him?"
Needless to say, he shut up and let her help him.
Labels: work
14 December 2014
Snowflakes
13 December 2014
December 13, 2014
12 December 2014
The Cones of Dunshire
11 December 2014
Patriarchy Proverb
10 December 2014
Xena, Warrior Pioneer
From What We Owe Xena:
How was Xena a female pioneer? Let me count the ways. She had no male support or regular romantic interest. She didn’t, unlike Wonder Woman or the Bionic Woman, have a conventionally feminine day-to-day alternate identity, though on a mission she could pose as a Roman matron, a virgin priestess or an exotic dancer. Xena was not “strong but feminine”; she was unapologetically strong and unapologetically female, sexy and powerful, unafraid to get sweaty and dirty on the job, and all the more beautiful for it. Nor did she care about pleasing anyone: In one memorable exchange, a slick opportunist seeking to enlist Xena as an ally says, “I like you,” and she shoots back, “Don’t. I’m not a likable person.” (As Lawless once said, Xena is “a good person who doesn’t think she is.”)
How was Xena a female pioneer? Let me count the ways. She had no male support or regular romantic interest. She didn’t, unlike Wonder Woman or the Bionic Woman, have a conventionally feminine day-to-day alternate identity, though on a mission she could pose as a Roman matron, a virgin priestess or an exotic dancer. Xena was not “strong but feminine”; she was unapologetically strong and unapologetically female, sexy and powerful, unafraid to get sweaty and dirty on the job, and all the more beautiful for it. Nor did she care about pleasing anyone: In one memorable exchange, a slick opportunist seeking to enlist Xena as an ally says, “I like you,” and she shoots back, “Don’t. I’m not a likable person.” (As Lawless once said, Xena is “a good person who doesn’t think she is.”)
Labels: Xena
09 December 2014
What Happens When the Weatherman's Computer Fails
They start getting creative ~1:25.....
WCIV-TV | ABC News 4 - Charleston News, Sports, Weather
"How much warmer?"
WCIV-TV | ABC News 4 - Charleston News, Sports, Weather
"How much warmer?"
Labels: random awesomeness
08 December 2014
Mama....
07 December 2014
Say What, Now?
06 December 2014
I am *so* done with this day
I am so done with this day. In chronological order:
1) While washing dishes, a freshly scrubbed (and therefore soapy) cookie sheet slip out of my hands, flew onto the floor, and slid across the kitchen floor.
2) I was putting a almost empty carton of eggs back in the fridge, but I put the empty end in first, and (apparently) didn't push it in far enough, and it tipped onto the floor, breaking an egg (on the floor).
3) While a batch of Christmas cookies were baking, I sat down on my couch to watch a movie and eat a snack of pizza rolls. (Don't you judge me!) Somehow the plate slipped out of my hands and, as I tried to save it, I knocked my water glass over and got hot cheese on my hand. The water cleaned up easily enough, but the cheese burn is bad enough that every time I take it away from the ice/cold water, it starts to hurt again.
As soon the last batch of cookies is out of the oven, I'm going to bed!
1) While washing dishes, a freshly scrubbed (and therefore soapy) cookie sheet slip out of my hands, flew onto the floor, and slid across the kitchen floor.
2) I was putting a almost empty carton of eggs back in the fridge, but I put the empty end in first, and (apparently) didn't push it in far enough, and it tipped onto the floor, breaking an egg (on the floor).
3) While a batch of Christmas cookies were baking, I sat down on my couch to watch a movie and eat a snack of pizza rolls. (Don't you judge me!) Somehow the plate slipped out of my hands and, as I tried to save it, I knocked my water glass over and got hot cheese on my hand. The water cleaned up easily enough, but the cheese burn is bad enough that every time I take it away from the ice/cold water, it starts to hurt again.
As soon the last batch of cookies is out of the oven, I'm going to bed!
05 December 2014
Seinfeld
From Not-stalgia: Why I Don't Miss 'Seinfeld', by Linda Holmes:
I remember laughing occasionally at Seinfeld. I'm pretty sure there's tape of me somewhere, probably on a podcast, acknowledging that it's good. Because of peer pressure.
I don't like Seinfeld, I don't miss it, and every time I'm asked to participate in some sort of acknowledgment of its greatness, or its place in the pantheon, I feel myself cringe and lie and say I understand, but I am here to tell you, and then never to be so cowardly again: I don't understand.
This was brought back to me in full force when I saw the Super Bowl ad Sunday night with Jerry Seinfeld and Jason Alexander, and I thought, almost involuntarily, "Not this again." When I mentioned this on Twitter, I thought that I would immediately be crushed under the weight of other people's nostalgia and hostility, but no! There are many of us! And we all feel alone! We all feel like we are the only ones!
I am here to tell you: There are many of us. It is a show that benefits from the kind of nostalgia that enforces itself through consensus, by assuming that We All Know how great it is and how important it is, and for plenty of people, that is a legitimate reflection of their joyful adoration with which I'd never quibble.
But there are many of us.
I remember laughing occasionally at Seinfeld. I'm pretty sure there's tape of me somewhere, probably on a podcast, acknowledging that it's good. Because of peer pressure.
I don't like Seinfeld, I don't miss it, and every time I'm asked to participate in some sort of acknowledgment of its greatness, or its place in the pantheon, I feel myself cringe and lie and say I understand, but I am here to tell you, and then never to be so cowardly again: I don't understand.
This was brought back to me in full force when I saw the Super Bowl ad Sunday night with Jerry Seinfeld and Jason Alexander, and I thought, almost involuntarily, "Not this again." When I mentioned this on Twitter, I thought that I would immediately be crushed under the weight of other people's nostalgia and hostility, but no! There are many of us! And we all feel alone! We all feel like we are the only ones!
I am here to tell you: There are many of us. It is a show that benefits from the kind of nostalgia that enforces itself through consensus, by assuming that We All Know how great it is and how important it is, and for plenty of people, that is a legitimate reflection of their joyful adoration with which I'd never quibble.
But there are many of us.
Labels: Linda Holmes, TV
04 December 2014
Turn, Turn, Turn
My "favorite" is when drivers slam on their brakes, turn, and then flash their turn signal once or twice after the turn is completed. That's awesome.
Labels: Rick Mercer, travel
03 December 2014
Intro to Journalism
One of my favorite online writers is Anne Helen Petersen. She used to write for The Hairpin and on her own blog while working as a professor, but recently she was hired full-time at Buzzfeed. This essay is about her first six months on the job, and the transition from academia to journalism:
"I came back with 10,000 words of copy, because why wouldn’t the reported version be as lengthy as the first? My editors told me to cut 2,000 because people only read 10,000 words when the name Ta-Nehisi Coates is on the byline. I hemmed and hawed and stared at the screen and did it. They asked for a better lede. I googled 'lede.' I made a better lede."
"I came back with 10,000 words of copy, because why wouldn’t the reported version be as lengthy as the first? My editors told me to cut 2,000 because people only read 10,000 words when the name Ta-Nehisi Coates is on the byline. I hemmed and hawed and stared at the screen and did it. They asked for a better lede. I googled 'lede.' I made a better lede."
Labels: Anne Helen Petersen
02 December 2014
Yeah, That's Annoying
01 December 2014
Coupons
