Or nerdy things, depending on your perspective...
1. The Great Turtle Race
Eleven leatherback sea turtles have been tagged with a satellite tracking device and you can follow them on their 3,700 mile migration from Canada to the Caribbean. Each turtle has a name and a sponsor and an Olympic swimming "coach" that will provide commentary on their turtles throughout the race.
You can pick a turtle and sign up to get email updates on it's progress and then follow all of the turtles on a map: http://animals.nationalgeographic.com/animals/article/greatturtlerace.html
My turtle is a 5'3" long / 970 pound female named Nightswimmer. Why is she named Nightswimmer? Because she's sponsored by R.E.M. How cool is that!? (There's also a turtle named Backspacer that's sponsored by Pearl Jam). I'm a little bummed there's not a turtle named Crush, but maybe he wasn't a leatherback...
2. Happy Anniversary Strunk and White
The Elements of Style turns 50 this year. Written by author E. B. White and his professor, William Strunk, it's a good guide for anyone who ever has to write anything. Which is a lot of us.
I received my first copy in college during freshman orientation - along with the APA Style Guide and the university's rules on plagiarism. It was like one of those scenes from a movie where someone enlists in the army and then promptly gets a stack of fatigues and a helmet slapped onto his outstretched arms.
Those last two publications were daunting with lots of meticulous rules to follow and a lecture of what would happen if you didn't - bad marks for the former and expulsion for the latter - yikes. Both scared the beejeezus out of me to the point that I didn't even want to open either of them. But that little, unassuming and nonthreatening copy of S&W - that I could handle.
That eventually dog-eared and scribbled-on copy from college was "borrowed" by an ex-roommate (along with a vintage set of James Joyce's Dubliners and his Collected Poems, but that's a story for a much angrier day...). There's now a much less-worn edition of S&W sitting on the cabinet behind me as we speak. It's there next to the New York Times Manual of Style and Usage and a copy of Robert's Rules of Order (which is surprisingly handy to have around).
S&W is not the most orderly or user-friendly reference book in the world, but it has served me well. Besides - it's not a manual or a rule book - it's the elements of style. And after all, who has better style than the man who wrote Charlotte's Web - except for maybe the man who taught him. Go here and listen to E.B. White read a passage from Charlotte's Web. A very, very cool thing.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Surfacing: 2nd Attempt
It's just me again, linking to other people's stuff...
Today's victim: My iGoogle page.
Not only is this photo spectacular, but I just love giraffes. Maybe it comes from a lifelong desire to be tall and skinny... Thankfully, clicking on it did not lead me to a story of environmental gloom and despair as this widget often does. Nope. Only an anecdote about being in the right place at the right time. Very nice.
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My Sesame Street Terror Alert System would like for us to know that
Today's Threat Level is Brought to You By:
Don't know about you, but I long for a world that's at a nice Oscar and/or Cookie...
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I inadvertently celebrated National Pecan Day Eve last night with a piece of chocolate chip pecan pie for dessert. It was damn good. Useless fact of the day - the pecan tree is the only nut tree native to North America. Interesting, no? And the Pecan Pie? Definitely wins for native pie of the South. Heaven in an aluminum tin.
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Today in History: John Wilkes Booth shot Lincoln.
Not much to say there. But it did remind me of Sarah Vowel - one of my favorite writers, humorists, irreverent historian, AND the voice of Violet in The Incredibles. She wrote a book, Assassination Vacation that chronicles her various road trips to visit sites associated with presidential assassinations. It's brilliant. And what's even better? The audio book features Conan O'Brien as Robert Todd Lincoln and Jon Stewart as President Garfield.
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The English Word of the Day: Chafe.
The Italian Word of the Day: Eta. (Age)
The Font of the Day: Alpha Echo
The Saint of the Day: St. Lydwine
Patron Saint of sickness. And stigmata. Excellent. Any day you can work "stigmata" into the conversation is a good day.
And let's not forget the Quote of the Day: "They called it golf because all the other four letter words were taken." - Walter Hagen.
I think this guy was a professional golfer and this is supposed to be one of those "ha ha - we're over-privileged white men joking about golf - aren't we hilarious!?!" kinds of sayings that you have on an apron that you bought from one of those catalogs in the pocket of your seat on an airplane and that you wear while you're grilling something on a fancy grill. I don't know beans about Walter Hagen, so I shouldn't assume or associate him with that image... but I do know that this quote is fitting for an entirely different set of reasons - mainly because I despise golf and because I thought I was going to unleash a series of four letter words on Easter if I had to listen to any more people talk about The Masters. Seriously. I'd rather watch NASCAR.
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From gocomics.com: a Tom Toles' political cartoon
I used to have several political cartoonists on a feed with other cartoons from gocomics.com, but he's the only one who continuously astounds me with his ability to convey such a profound thought with a simple drawing. So, I pared down and now it's just him and Doonesbury and re-runs of Opus and Calvin & Hobbes.
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And finally, from the news feed for the New York Times, BBC, Salon.com, Grist, Enviro-link and Nature:
Well... you know... the economy sucks, icebergs are melting, everyone hates each other, the president's getting a dog, etc. BUT apparently someone is trying to make a substitute for Styrofoam out of mushrooms. Good news!
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Well, I think that covers it. Happy Pecan Day!
Monday, April 6, 2009
Surfacing
Hola. I have been a negligent blog-owner. There is somewhat of an excuse... I suppose. I spent one very busy, but fun, work week and one even funner week actually enjoying my Birthday Girl status. A nice switch from the Snarky, Glass-Half-Empty, Grouchy, Hermit Girl that I normally tend toward...
I returned to the interwebs this morning to catch up on what were some really excellent posts by other people. So, what's a better way to dip my little sausage toes back into the bloggy water than to just post links to other people's stuff? There is none! Enjoy!
Where I am an official reader:
Katie at Proof Positive shared an excellent and coffee-up-the-nose hilarious post about the joys of parenting a strong-willed child.
Green Girl in Wisconsin had a great write-up on litter (yes, litter) and has inspired me to hunt down a Woodsy the Owl replacement t-shirt.
Big Happy Family has fallen victim to Twilight and I think I am partly responsible. Again, Carrie, my apologies...
AuntieM Writes posted about one of my most favorite places in the world - the New York City Public Library and their lions. Beautiful pictures. When I next up my Tragic Spinster certification I will name my first two cats Patience and Fortitude.
Where I am but a partial lurker:
And speaking of my Tragic Spinster status... Green Girl's friend at Noodleroux had a post on the eve of my birthday about dating in your 30s that gave me great joy.
Rocky Top Talk had an excellent analysis of one of the spring scrimmages leading up to next weekend's Orange and White Game. Woo hoo! What?!? I hear you rolling your eyes - yes, it's college football. The NCAA basketball championship is tonight, people - what else am I supposed to do for the next four and a half months? Read? Knit? Work for a living?
The Lost recaps on MamaPop are always really good in a weird stream-of-consciousness kind of way. And, they just posted a very funny video about White People Problems.
Where I still maintain full lurker status:
Crazy Aunt Purl detailed her past experience, that I am all too familiar with, about the public humiliation of failing a car emissions test. While I did not cry, few things are more shameful for a chronic over-achiever than having to pull away from the tiny testing station with a computer-generated form containing (and HIGHLIGHTED IN YELLOW by the 16 year old testing station attendant): sad face, sad face, FAIL. Truly awful. Yeah... I know... White People Problems...
What Would Jane Austen Do had a funny list. And lists are always good. She also had a more serious, but equally good post about April Food Day and fighting hunger.
Zen Habits had a completely apropos post - also on the eve of my birthday - about saying "yes" when you mean "no" and vice-versa.
And last, and certainly never least, Dooce has been in rare form with the posts from her book tour and one hysterical one about Angelina's plans for her next adoption that, if nothing else, has given me a new phrase to shout the next time I find myself completely exasperated about something. Perhaps in June when I have to take my car back for it's next emissions test...
This should keep you busy for a while.
I returned to the interwebs this morning to catch up on what were some really excellent posts by other people. So, what's a better way to dip my little sausage toes back into the bloggy water than to just post links to other people's stuff? There is none! Enjoy!
Where I am an official reader:
Katie at Proof Positive shared an excellent and coffee-up-the-nose hilarious post about the joys of parenting a strong-willed child.
Green Girl in Wisconsin had a great write-up on litter (yes, litter) and has inspired me to hunt down a Woodsy the Owl replacement t-shirt.
Big Happy Family has fallen victim to Twilight and I think I am partly responsible. Again, Carrie, my apologies...
AuntieM Writes posted about one of my most favorite places in the world - the New York City Public Library and their lions. Beautiful pictures. When I next up my Tragic Spinster certification I will name my first two cats Patience and Fortitude.
Where I am but a partial lurker:
And speaking of my Tragic Spinster status... Green Girl's friend at Noodleroux had a post on the eve of my birthday about dating in your 30s that gave me great joy.
Rocky Top Talk had an excellent analysis of one of the spring scrimmages leading up to next weekend's Orange and White Game. Woo hoo! What?!? I hear you rolling your eyes - yes, it's college football. The NCAA basketball championship is tonight, people - what else am I supposed to do for the next four and a half months? Read? Knit? Work for a living?
The Lost recaps on MamaPop are always really good in a weird stream-of-consciousness kind of way. And, they just posted a very funny video about White People Problems.
Where I still maintain full lurker status:
Crazy Aunt Purl detailed her past experience, that I am all too familiar with, about the public humiliation of failing a car emissions test. While I did not cry, few things are more shameful for a chronic over-achiever than having to pull away from the tiny testing station with a computer-generated form containing (and HIGHLIGHTED IN YELLOW by the 16 year old testing station attendant): sad face, sad face, FAIL. Truly awful. Yeah... I know... White People Problems...
What Would Jane Austen Do had a funny list. And lists are always good. She also had a more serious, but equally good post about April Food Day and fighting hunger.
Zen Habits had a completely apropos post - also on the eve of my birthday - about saying "yes" when you mean "no" and vice-versa.
And last, and certainly never least, Dooce has been in rare form with the posts from her book tour and one hysterical one about Angelina's plans for her next adoption that, if nothing else, has given me a new phrase to shout the next time I find myself completely exasperated about something. Perhaps in June when I have to take my car back for it's next emissions test...
This should keep you busy for a while.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Cultist
The other day at work we received an angry, angry letter. One of those in all caps with all kinds of poor grammar and errant use of quotation marks. The kind where you know that if the writer could have typed in a font called "manifesto" he totally would have. It was that good.
An email update from my media service soon found the source of the outrage. The director of the environmental non-profit I do some work for / share office space with was quoted in an article about the nuclear industry. In it he said something about how maybe it would be a good idea to try energy conservation first before we go building any nuclear power plants. And apparently it struck a nerve.
In the letter we were called several crafty names - the very best being "GRANT SEEKING LIBERALS" and "PEA BRAINED CULTISTS."
That first one is outstanding. Because, for one, it's 100% accurate. I am indeed a grant-seeking liberal. It's kinda how I avoid living in a box down by the river. And, for two, it makes me feel so much better about myself. Because here I've been working under the assumption that I was supposed to be a "latte-drinking, Prius-driving liberal." And let me tell ya, I was failing miserably at that.
So really, this is good news.
Ah, but if he is right about that one, does this mean I could also be a "pea-brained cultist"? I don't know. Now I'm worried. Let me think...
I guess I can't deny occasional pea-brained-ness on my part. I once misread a recipe for white chicken chili and instead of 1/4 teaspoon of cloves I added 4 teaspoons and nearly asphyxiated in a giant cloud of clove gas that formed over my crock pot. Things like this happen to me on a fairly regular basis. It's probably why I have to depend on grants for my livelihood - no one would actually pay me an hourly wage to be this much of a ding-bat.
So, OK fine - I'll give him that. But cultist? I may have to draw a line there.
But then I read an article yesterday and it hit me. Like a cloud of clove gas. Yes, I am indeed a cultist.
I belong to the cult of Rick Steves.
Yes, Rick Steves, the dorky PBS travel guy. That Rick Steves.
The article was on Salon.com. They did an interview with him and in it he almost achieved Jon Stewartdom. All funny and smart and self-deprecating and connecting-the-dots with spot-on observations and philosophies about everything from terrorists to marijuana. (The difference being that I have too much of a crush on Jon Stewart to worship him in a cult-like fashion whereas Rick Steves wears those glasses and the shirts with the two front pockets much like a David Koresh would, making him much more cult-worthy... )
Anyway... I first became acquainted with Rick Steves when I was planning a trip to Europe - not quite ten years ago. I had planned to go with a friend and do a quasi back-packing style trip through several countries. A month out she decided not to go and in a fit of pig-headed-ness I decided to just go by myself. To aid me on my trip I had a couple of ridiculously large, travel company-produced Guides To Europe that were quickly deemed useless and abandoned at my first hostel.
But I also had Rick Steves' guide to Italy. Small, concise, well-written and actually useful. He espouses the perfect (well, what I consider to be perfect) philosophy on travel abroad. He gives you tangible and realistic advice while showing you, on an adorably hand-drawn map, directions to the perfect cafe on the perfect side street in Rome. Or a great pub crawl to do in Venice where you will be able to dine for next to nothing on delicious food and wine and hang out with locals. Or which alley to turn down in Florence to find the most delightful tiny hotel where over the front desk in the lobby hangs an enormous painting of Tricky, the crazy owner's chihuahua.
And you go to these places and not only is the cafe perfect, and not only do you spend an evening on the pub crawl drinking wine and being quizzed on jazz by a bunch of twenty-something Venetians, and not only do you actually get to meet the real, live Tricky, but you also meet other Americans along the way. Americans who believe in the same idea of travel - that you should be a "visitor" to another country, not a "tourist." Americans who believe that our way isn't always the best way and that you don't learn anything when you travel if you spend all your time speaking extra loudly in English and don't deliberately wander away from the souvenir carts.
Americans who believe - after you have all downed several bottles of vino and a plate or two of gnocchi - that Rick Steves should be declared your personal god as you start sketching on a napkin the temple you're going to erect in his honor out of focaccia bread in the middle of Piazza San Marco.
It's been a while since I've reaffirmed my devotion to my dorky, public television travel guy. (What with saving all my money for the lattes and my new Prius I just haven't had any money to travel!) But I think after reading this article that should be taken care of. Pea-brained cultist that I apparently am.
And now, I have to go back to work. I have a grant report due tomorrow.
An email update from my media service soon found the source of the outrage. The director of the environmental non-profit I do some work for / share office space with was quoted in an article about the nuclear industry. In it he said something about how maybe it would be a good idea to try energy conservation first before we go building any nuclear power plants. And apparently it struck a nerve.
In the letter we were called several crafty names - the very best being "GRANT SEEKING LIBERALS" and "PEA BRAINED CULTISTS."
That first one is outstanding. Because, for one, it's 100% accurate. I am indeed a grant-seeking liberal. It's kinda how I avoid living in a box down by the river. And, for two, it makes me feel so much better about myself. Because here I've been working under the assumption that I was supposed to be a "latte-drinking, Prius-driving liberal." And let me tell ya, I was failing miserably at that.
So really, this is good news.
Ah, but if he is right about that one, does this mean I could also be a "pea-brained cultist"? I don't know. Now I'm worried. Let me think...
I guess I can't deny occasional pea-brained-ness on my part. I once misread a recipe for white chicken chili and instead of 1/4 teaspoon of cloves I added 4 teaspoons and nearly asphyxiated in a giant cloud of clove gas that formed over my crock pot. Things like this happen to me on a fairly regular basis. It's probably why I have to depend on grants for my livelihood - no one would actually pay me an hourly wage to be this much of a ding-bat.
So, OK fine - I'll give him that. But cultist? I may have to draw a line there.
But then I read an article yesterday and it hit me. Like a cloud of clove gas. Yes, I am indeed a cultist.
I belong to the cult of Rick Steves.
Yes, Rick Steves, the dorky PBS travel guy. That Rick Steves.
The article was on Salon.com. They did an interview with him and in it he almost achieved Jon Stewartdom. All funny and smart and self-deprecating and connecting-the-dots with spot-on observations and philosophies about everything from terrorists to marijuana. (The difference being that I have too much of a crush on Jon Stewart to worship him in a cult-like fashion whereas Rick Steves wears those glasses and the shirts with the two front pockets much like a David Koresh would, making him much more cult-worthy... )
Anyway... I first became acquainted with Rick Steves when I was planning a trip to Europe - not quite ten years ago. I had planned to go with a friend and do a quasi back-packing style trip through several countries. A month out she decided not to go and in a fit of pig-headed-ness I decided to just go by myself. To aid me on my trip I had a couple of ridiculously large, travel company-produced Guides To Europe that were quickly deemed useless and abandoned at my first hostel.
But I also had Rick Steves' guide to Italy. Small, concise, well-written and actually useful. He espouses the perfect (well, what I consider to be perfect) philosophy on travel abroad. He gives you tangible and realistic advice while showing you, on an adorably hand-drawn map, directions to the perfect cafe on the perfect side street in Rome. Or a great pub crawl to do in Venice where you will be able to dine for next to nothing on delicious food and wine and hang out with locals. Or which alley to turn down in Florence to find the most delightful tiny hotel where over the front desk in the lobby hangs an enormous painting of Tricky, the crazy owner's chihuahua.
And you go to these places and not only is the cafe perfect, and not only do you spend an evening on the pub crawl drinking wine and being quizzed on jazz by a bunch of twenty-something Venetians, and not only do you actually get to meet the real, live Tricky, but you also meet other Americans along the way. Americans who believe in the same idea of travel - that you should be a "visitor" to another country, not a "tourist." Americans who believe that our way isn't always the best way and that you don't learn anything when you travel if you spend all your time speaking extra loudly in English and don't deliberately wander away from the souvenir carts.
Americans who believe - after you have all downed several bottles of vino and a plate or two of gnocchi - that Rick Steves should be declared your personal god as you start sketching on a napkin the temple you're going to erect in his honor out of focaccia bread in the middle of Piazza San Marco.
It's been a while since I've reaffirmed my devotion to my dorky, public television travel guy. (What with saving all my money for the lattes and my new Prius I just haven't had any money to travel!) But I think after reading this article that should be taken care of. Pea-brained cultist that I apparently am.
And now, I have to go back to work. I have a grant report due tomorrow.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Observations in Madness (Sunday night)
I actually spent a great deal of time this weekend doing things other than watching basketball. I went shopping. I went to the grocery store. I went to an art gallery and then to a sushi bar - where I did occasionally stretch my short self as tall as I could muster to peek up over the top of the booth at the TV in the back of the restaurant - but still, I participated in witty conversations and only managed to get soy sauce on my new shirt once. I went to church and to grown-up Sunday school and to lunch and then did yard work. All the while assuming that I was still clinging to life in 6th place in our pool.
And then I updated our brackets just a couple of hours ago, and dude, I am somehow now in 3rd place. I managed to pick 15 of the Sweet 16. Trust me, I am as stunned as you are. I don't really expect it to last, but it is nice for now. Here's what else:
1. I am a bit self-defeating. The on-going battle I have with myself every March when I fill out my bracket is always head vs. heart. Who do I want to win and who do I think will win. It's often not the same thing. If my bracket involves a couple of innocent dollars, I usually go with my head but then find myself on a Sunday evening yelling for Siena to beat Louisville even though I have Louisville in the Final Four.
So yeah - how 'bout that Siena / Louisville game? What was a heart-breaker! Or. Go Cards! I'm good either way...
2. In other crazy games... Western Kentucky - so close! And Marquette - I'm sorry your game ended so strangely and unfortunately (well kinda - because again - Go Mizzou!) but your coach sorta scares me and he maybe should invest in some Nylabones or something because that one kid chewed on his towel for the last like 15 minutes of your game.
3. Say it ain't so! The Lady Vols will NOT be headed to the Sweet 16 for the first time ever. Ever. I guess it had to happen sometime. Also, the Middle Tennessee State University women's team lost a very close one. The coach of the Lady Blue Raiders is the neighbor of a friend of mine and I am really bummed for him. I probably shouldn't keep up with the women's tournament if my only reason for doing so is to hope that someone beats UConn, but hey, at least I'm honest.
Happy Sweet 16!
And then I updated our brackets just a couple of hours ago, and dude, I am somehow now in 3rd place. I managed to pick 15 of the Sweet 16. Trust me, I am as stunned as you are. I don't really expect it to last, but it is nice for now. Here's what else:
1. I am a bit self-defeating. The on-going battle I have with myself every March when I fill out my bracket is always head vs. heart. Who do I want to win and who do I think will win. It's often not the same thing. If my bracket involves a couple of innocent dollars, I usually go with my head but then find myself on a Sunday evening yelling for Siena to beat Louisville even though I have Louisville in the Final Four.
So yeah - how 'bout that Siena / Louisville game? What was a heart-breaker! Or. Go Cards! I'm good either way...
2. In other crazy games... Western Kentucky - so close! And Marquette - I'm sorry your game ended so strangely and unfortunately (well kinda - because again - Go Mizzou!) but your coach sorta scares me and he maybe should invest in some Nylabones or something because that one kid chewed on his towel for the last like 15 minutes of your game.
3. Say it ain't so! The Lady Vols will NOT be headed to the Sweet 16 for the first time ever. Ever. I guess it had to happen sometime. Also, the Middle Tennessee State University women's team lost a very close one. The coach of the Lady Blue Raiders is the neighbor of a friend of mine and I am really bummed for him. I probably shouldn't keep up with the women's tournament if my only reason for doing so is to hope that someone beats UConn, but hey, at least I'm honest.
Happy Sweet 16!
Friday, March 20, 2009
Observations in Madness (Friday - very late)
1. Bless their hearts. Fitting comment for East Tennessee State University both because of where they're from and for how they played. We all know a #16 has never beaten a #1 - but it has to happen sooner or later, right? For a brief moment it looked like it might be possible when ETSU played Pittsburgh this afternoon. They played confidently for every minute of the game, never getting rattled or losing steam until the very, very end when Pittsburgh finally pulled ahead by double digits. Two hard-fought losses by the Volunteer State today. Memphis? I hope you were watching and paying attention.
2. What's up, ACC? Clemson, Wake Forest and Florida State are out? Two of you to Big 10 teams? What - do you think it's football season? You're killing me. Well, just my bracket actually, but still...
3. Upset, upset. My mother was the only one who picked Dayton over West Virginia. A couple of us correctly picked Siena over Ohio State (how awesome was that game?!) and a few more picked Arizona, Boston College or Wisconsin. But only one of us picked all four. And it definitely wasn't me. I commented at dinner earlier on the lack of trash talking in our pool, but I have a feeling that's all about to end.
How's your bracket?
Observations in Madness (Friday Two-ish)
1. Oh the wailing and gnashing of teeth. Tennessee lost by two points in the last few seconds of their game today. Fortunately for my bracket I did not pick them to go past the next round, so at least there's that. But still... sadness and woe...
2. Last night saw local favorite Western Kentucky upset Illinois. My mother always takes the opportunity during basketball season to mention how she nearly went into early labor with me in March of 1971 because of Western. They were the "giant killers" that year and every game they somehow kept pulling out win after win. So, your call - my love of March Madness - nature or nurture? I don't have the Hilltoppers picked to go past the next round but, you know, I am having a birthday party on the same day as the Final Four - so how cool would it be if Western made it that far? Yeah, I know...
3. Speaking of my mother - she's leading our basketball pool. There are eight of us in the pool and the only game she didn't pick from yesterday was the Clemson/Michigan game. And that's not her fault in the least (or five other people in the pool) is it, Clemson?!?!? No, no it's not.
As for me, I'm hanging in at 5th place.
2. Last night saw local favorite Western Kentucky upset Illinois. My mother always takes the opportunity during basketball season to mention how she nearly went into early labor with me in March of 1971 because of Western. They were the "giant killers" that year and every game they somehow kept pulling out win after win. So, your call - my love of March Madness - nature or nurture? I don't have the Hilltoppers picked to go past the next round but, you know, I am having a birthday party on the same day as the Final Four - so how cool would it be if Western made it that far? Yeah, I know...
3. Speaking of my mother - she's leading our basketball pool. There are eight of us in the pool and the only game she didn't pick from yesterday was the Clemson/Michigan game. And that's not her fault in the least (or five other people in the pool) is it, Clemson?!?!? No, no it's not.
As for me, I'm hanging in at 5th place.
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