Hit the mall at 10:00 a.m.
Left the mall at 7:30 p.m.
This is not sane.
Around 3:00, I called home to check my messages, and found a "early fraud alert" from my credit card company. "Yes, yes, it's me. I did that. Yes, that one too. Yes, they're all me." I never complain when Citibank flags suspicious activity, but they do seem to be getting more suspicious lately. This is my third annual Columbus Day shopping trip to this mall, and they never flagged it before -- and I spent way more money the other times.
Yeah, the trip wasn't entirely successful -- I managed only about five Christmas presents. But I bought about 11 things for me, so it wasn't a total loss. :)
Two blog-worthy events --
1. In Cost Plus World Market, they carry a Kosher Teriyaki Sauce. The label says .... (anyone? anyone?) "Soy Vey."
2. Wandering in Bed Bath & Beyond -- and I mean wandering. Bed Bath & Beyond is at about the three-quarter point in my journey through the mall. While I've recently been fired up by lunch, I'm still starting to fade, and the synapses aren't firing as quickly as I'd like. So, I'm wandering in Bed Bath & Beyond, and a dude stops me and says, "Are you married to Scott?"
"Um, no. Sorry." (Continue pushing shopping cart.)
"You look really familiar."
He does not look familiar to me. But, y'know, synapses firing slowly. I give him the benefit of the doubt. I am certain, however, that I'm not married to Scott. I'd remember something like marriage.
"Are you married at all?"
I say "No," before my brain starts waving the red flag that says, "Who tries to pick up women in Bed Bath & Beyond??"
"You're very beautiful."
I smile and say "thanks," because that's what we do as reflex. This, however, knocks me back into consciousness. Don't get me wrong here, the following is not low self-esteem talking. I am not beautiful today. I am, to be sure, capable of beautiful. Today, however, I'm not even close. Jeans. Sweatshirt (with, I noticed later, lunch stain on it). Hair pulled back in a scrunchie. No make-up to speak of. Eyes looking vaguely in different directions. Lips so chapped they hurt. Objective evaluation comes up with: No; not remotely beautiful. He's giving you a line.
He holds out his hand and says, "I'm Steve."
I shake it and say, "I'm Sarah."
(I'm not really Sarah. I'm sorta Sarah. It's an 80% lie.)
I give him a wave and start walking off to shop.
He goes on. "Do you live around here?"
Ha. My brain really wants to say, "Dude, you are SO wasting your time," but instead I just say, "No; I've just come down here for my annual holiday shopping." He doesn't take Geographical Inconvenience for "no" and presses, "What do you like to do for fun?" (My brain says, "I'm not sure; but getting picked up in Bed Bath & Beyond is not on the list.) I smile and laugh and say, "I've really got to get back to shopping" and head on off into the store.
I don't look back. I don't listen back either, but I thought I might've head him say something about how totally rude I was.
(Why, exactly? Because I didn't want to try out the mattresses with you??)
Monday, October 13, 2008
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Oh COME ON
I looked into blogger help re: the "flag this blog" business -- and apparently, according to blogger, you can "unflag" a blog if you change your mind.
Of course, my phone -- which is now certain I've flagged the blog as objectionable -- does not show the unflag button.
I'm gonna have WORDS with Verizon.
Of course, my phone -- which is now certain I've flagged the blog as objectionable -- does not show the unflag button.
I'm gonna have WORDS with Verizon.
My blog -- she is not objectionable.
My phone is a prude.
I have one of those phones that claims internet access. It's not completely useless in terms of email (but can't get the email from one of my accounts, because said account stupidly requires cookies), but its internet capabilities are largely exaggerated.
Case in point: Thought I'd take a look at my blog from my phone. (I'm away from home. Not really away away, just spending the night at a hotel near the "biggest indoor mall West of the Mississippi" (so says their website) so I can get up bright and early and attack my holiday shopping tomorrow.) In any event, I typed in the blog's new URL in my phone, and my phone started loading the page.
First, it loaded the text.
Then, while loading, it loaded a line that read "Flag this blog to blogger for objectionable content."
Then, without me doing a damn thing, it changed that line to read "You have flagged this blog as having objectionable content."
Really? I flagged my own blog? That'd be pretty stupid, wouldn't it?
I immediately turned off my phone, hoping that the thought police over here at blogger wouldn't be pounding down my cyber-door and killing the blog I so painstakingly created (and so recently moved).
Five minutes later I tried again -- to see if I couldn't figure out what happened.
What happened was: it did the same thing again. Now I've apparently twice flagged my own blog as objectionable.
Am awaiting the thought police at any minute now. Hopefully, this won't be my last entry.
I have one of those phones that claims internet access. It's not completely useless in terms of email (but can't get the email from one of my accounts, because said account stupidly requires cookies), but its internet capabilities are largely exaggerated.
Case in point: Thought I'd take a look at my blog from my phone. (I'm away from home. Not really away away, just spending the night at a hotel near the "biggest indoor mall West of the Mississippi" (so says their website) so I can get up bright and early and attack my holiday shopping tomorrow.) In any event, I typed in the blog's new URL in my phone, and my phone started loading the page.
First, it loaded the text.
Then, while loading, it loaded a line that read "Flag this blog to blogger for objectionable content."
Then, without me doing a damn thing, it changed that line to read "You have flagged this blog as having objectionable content."
Really? I flagged my own blog? That'd be pretty stupid, wouldn't it?
I immediately turned off my phone, hoping that the thought police over here at blogger wouldn't be pounding down my cyber-door and killing the blog I so painstakingly created (and so recently moved).
Five minutes later I tried again -- to see if I couldn't figure out what happened.
What happened was: it did the same thing again. Now I've apparently twice flagged my own blog as objectionable.
Am awaiting the thought police at any minute now. Hopefully, this won't be my last entry.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Yes! We have the technology!
Yeah, ok, I likes me some Brit TV.
(BTW, is it odd that Blogger's "profile" thing asks your favorite movies. music, and books, but not TV programs? I understand leaving out theatre (although, being a theatre critic on the side, I do have favorite plays and musicals) but TV? Dude. The masses watch TV.)
ANYWAY, I like, and watch, a reasonable amount of British TV. (Thank you, BBC America.) But an hour-long program (programme?) in the UK is not an hour-long program in the U.S., as our hour-long shows are about 40 minutes, thanks to commercials. Meaning that, if you want to watch an entire British TV show, as it was intended to be seen, you probably need to get your hands on some DVDs and the right technology.
I have both. Thanks to what is, absolutely, the best customer review in the history of Amazon, I could acquire, for a reasonable price, a DVD player that plays British DVDs on an American TV. (Because, y'know, region coding normally makes it impossible to play foreign DVDs on a domsestic player.) Thanks to Amazon's UK Sister, I can acquire said British DVDs. Life is awesome.
But, let's just suppose, hypothetically, that I wanted to share my love for these British TV programs with a few of my friends. Historically, this has been possible only by bringing said friends into my living room. But let's suppose that I'd like to share my love for these British TV programs with my friends in their own living rooms. Historically, this has been possible only by giving said friends a code-free DVD player. (Which I've actually done. Honestly, I should just buy those things in bulk.)
A couple of months ago, I purchased a DVD Recorder. The purpose of said piece of tech is to act much like a VCR -- it records stuff to DVD (for personal use, of course). My cable TV DVR comes with a "record to VCR" feature, by which it sends a copy of any program (saved on the DVR) to the VCR on the receiving end. The beauty part is that the cable DVR box has no idea what the machine on the receiving end happens to be. So, if I plug the DVD Recorder in there, I can now make copies of stuff I've recorded off television. (For personal use.)
Which leads me to last night's journey into ... well, into the web of cables hiding behind my TV (which is now, in case you've lost count, hooked up to: The code-free DVD player, the DVD recorder, the cable DVR box, and a Pinnacle ... thing that functions like a slingbox). Suppose I wanted to, say, personally use a DVD of a British TV program over at a friend's house, when my friend (sadly) does not own a code free DVD player? Can I play the damn thing on the code-free player but have the audio and video feeds go not to the TV, but instead to the inputs of the DVD Recorder? Thereby making an American DVD copy of a British DVD. (For personal use.)
Why, yes. Yes, I can. (Joy!)
The DVD player only has one set of outputs. So I attach the outputs to the TV, crank up the British DVD, go through the menus, get it to the first screen of the actual program, pause it, change the outputs to go to the inputs of the DVD recorder, and hit record on the recorder while I un-pause the DVD player. I'm flying blind, but I can do it.
And the unexpected bonus of this was that, I wasn't flying blind. Since the DVD Recorder has outputs to the TV, I can actually watch what I'm recording, as it just passes the signal right out through. Score!
(Do you know what this means? I can now show people what the original Life on Mars looked like, rather than just saying, "No, really, it's better than the one on ABC.")
(BTW, is it odd that Blogger's "profile" thing asks your favorite movies. music, and books, but not TV programs? I understand leaving out theatre (although, being a theatre critic on the side, I do have favorite plays and musicals) but TV? Dude. The masses watch TV.)
ANYWAY, I like, and watch, a reasonable amount of British TV. (Thank you, BBC America.) But an hour-long program (programme?) in the UK is not an hour-long program in the U.S., as our hour-long shows are about 40 minutes, thanks to commercials. Meaning that, if you want to watch an entire British TV show, as it was intended to be seen, you probably need to get your hands on some DVDs and the right technology.
I have both. Thanks to what is, absolutely, the best customer review in the history of Amazon, I could acquire, for a reasonable price, a DVD player that plays British DVDs on an American TV. (Because, y'know, region coding normally makes it impossible to play foreign DVDs on a domsestic player.) Thanks to Amazon's UK Sister, I can acquire said British DVDs. Life is awesome.
But, let's just suppose, hypothetically, that I wanted to share my love for these British TV programs with a few of my friends. Historically, this has been possible only by bringing said friends into my living room. But let's suppose that I'd like to share my love for these British TV programs with my friends in their own living rooms. Historically, this has been possible only by giving said friends a code-free DVD player. (Which I've actually done. Honestly, I should just buy those things in bulk.)
A couple of months ago, I purchased a DVD Recorder. The purpose of said piece of tech is to act much like a VCR -- it records stuff to DVD (for personal use, of course). My cable TV DVR comes with a "record to VCR" feature, by which it sends a copy of any program (saved on the DVR) to the VCR on the receiving end. The beauty part is that the cable DVR box has no idea what the machine on the receiving end happens to be. So, if I plug the DVD Recorder in there, I can now make copies of stuff I've recorded off television. (For personal use.)
Which leads me to last night's journey into ... well, into the web of cables hiding behind my TV (which is now, in case you've lost count, hooked up to: The code-free DVD player, the DVD recorder, the cable DVR box, and a Pinnacle ... thing that functions like a slingbox). Suppose I wanted to, say, personally use a DVD of a British TV program over at a friend's house, when my friend (sadly) does not own a code free DVD player? Can I play the damn thing on the code-free player but have the audio and video feeds go not to the TV, but instead to the inputs of the DVD Recorder? Thereby making an American DVD copy of a British DVD. (For personal use.)
Why, yes. Yes, I can. (Joy!)
The DVD player only has one set of outputs. So I attach the outputs to the TV, crank up the British DVD, go through the menus, get it to the first screen of the actual program, pause it, change the outputs to go to the inputs of the DVD recorder, and hit record on the recorder while I un-pause the DVD player. I'm flying blind, but I can do it.
And the unexpected bonus of this was that, I wasn't flying blind. Since the DVD Recorder has outputs to the TV, I can actually watch what I'm recording, as it just passes the signal right out through. Score!
(Do you know what this means? I can now show people what the original Life on Mars looked like, rather than just saying, "No, really, it's better than the one on ABC.")
Friday, October 10, 2008
The Arial Curse
I see the Arial Curse has followed me from AOL.
I like typing in Arial. It's my font of choice.
And there was something really weird about it on AOL. Despite the fact my journal was set to default to Arial 12, it would actually default to Arial 10. But it thought it was 12. So I'd have to change the font on the whole thing to something else (like 14-point) and then I could size it back to 12 and it would go to 12.
So, it transfers my entire journal in what appears to be a good, normal size of text. I write a new entry. I tell it to make my text "Small" because that looks good on the screen. I preview it. It previews at the same size as the transferred entries. I post it. As you can see, it comes out teeny tiny.
So, I went back in and changed the text size to "normal." Did it change it? Only in preview. In the journal, it came out as "small" again. I tried kicking it up to the next size ("large") and it was freakin' HUGE. Normal sized text in Arial? Sorry, apparently we can't do that.
(Bear with me. My posts are generally more interesting than bitching about font size.)
I like typing in Arial. It's my font of choice.
And there was something really weird about it on AOL. Despite the fact my journal was set to default to Arial 12, it would actually default to Arial 10. But it thought it was 12. So I'd have to change the font on the whole thing to something else (like 14-point) and then I could size it back to 12 and it would go to 12.
So, it transfers my entire journal in what appears to be a good, normal size of text. I write a new entry. I tell it to make my text "Small" because that looks good on the screen. I preview it. It previews at the same size as the transferred entries. I post it. As you can see, it comes out teeny tiny.
So, I went back in and changed the text size to "normal." Did it change it? Only in preview. In the journal, it came out as "small" again. I tried kicking it up to the next size ("large") and it was freakin' HUGE. Normal sized text in Arial? Sorry, apparently we can't do that.
(Bear with me. My posts are generally more interesting than bitching about font size.)
Checkin' Out the New Digs
So. This is blogger.
:::looks around, checks out the scenery:::
Looks pretty user-friendly, which is good, because I don't have time for anything that will require actual effort to figure it out.
In other news, I may be making a rather larger move. One in the real world.
Yes, kids, after (more or less) two years of listing and unlisting my condo, I actually have a tentative deal to sell it.
(Insert tentative dance of tentative joy. Knock on wood many times.)
We opened escrow this week; apparently survived the buyer's inspection and termite inspection; and the buyer is pre-approved for a loan. Still, we've got a couple weeks of contingencies left, and if I know anything about selling this place, it's not to believe it is actually sold until such time as I have a big pile of money in my hand and they have the keys.
So, forgive me if I'm a bit distracted right now. I'm alternating between excitement over the idea that I'll get a house ... and stress over the idea that I might not.
:::looks around, checks out the scenery:::
Looks pretty user-friendly, which is good, because I don't have time for anything that will require actual effort to figure it out.
In other news, I may be making a rather larger move. One in the real world.
Yes, kids, after (more or less) two years of listing and unlisting my condo, I actually have a tentative deal to sell it.
(Insert tentative dance of tentative joy. Knock on wood many times.)
We opened escrow this week; apparently survived the buyer's inspection and termite inspection; and the buyer is pre-approved for a loan. Still, we've got a couple weeks of contingencies left, and if I know anything about selling this place, it's not to believe it is actually sold until such time as I have a big pile of money in my hand and they have the keys.
So, forgive me if I'm a bit distracted right now. I'm alternating between excitement over the idea that I'll get a house ... and stress over the idea that I might not.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Dude. Good luck with that.
Dude in line in front of me at the grocery store was purchasing two packs of condoms ... and a home pregnancy test.
Ouch.
Ouch.
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