Lots of people have Attention Deficit Disorder, or so they claim. Yes, I agree that some people have a true chemical imbalance which creates this disorder, but far too many people claim they have it, when, most likely, they've just developed something akin to it. Among the people I know, I would be one of them.
Apparently, this has been in the news for quite some time now, except that I only just now got wind of it. And getting wind of it is right: this stuff stinks.
The Presbyterian Church USA just recently voted to rename the Trinity to various other metaphors that they say allow them to seek "fresh ways to speak of the mystery of the triune God" and to "expand the church's vocabulary of praise and wonder."
Actually, I love SPAM. That gooey, oozey salty jelly on the sides of the can really get me excited...
But I'm referring to email spam. So I took off for one business week of vacation, or nine full days, during which time I did not check my email. When I returned home, I had 160 emails in my inbox, of which 125 were junk emails. At work, I returned to find 80 emails in my inbox, of which 19 were PayPal phishing attempts. Of the 61 remaining, only 8 of them were not work-spam. You know, the type of email you get in order to "keep you informed," but which doesn't pertain to your job or your little domain of control....
So, let's count the numbers 240 emails, of which 43 were of use to me. That's a mere 18%.
I hate spam.
Ok, so I had spent a good deal of time writing the new episode of Back in the Day, when I tried to save, got shunted out of my own blog, and told my session had run out. When I logged back in, half the blog was gone. I don't feel like re-writing it at the moment. You'll have to wait till tomorrow for the new installment. In the meantime, here's the first installment of View Them And Weep, compliments of Jenny.
The other day I turned in an application for a loan, only to have the loan officer call me today to say that there is a blemish in my credit report, and could I please explain.
When I was growing up, my mother taught me how to cook. In fact, she made me learn how to cook. She did this because, as she said, "By the time you get old enough to marry, women won't know how to cook, so you better learn how to take care of yourself and your family, because you never know if you'll find a woman who can do that."
Continue reading "why I cook & sew, and sometimes build furniture" »
This morning, after not having checked my spam filter for the weekend, I came back to discovering that the blog-robots had been at it again. And not just a little bit, but 663 times in only 3 days. Thank goodness I 've got the new spam filter installed. What a waste of internet bandwidth.
In order to combat it, I've changed the directory my blog is kept in to something completely different, so that the spambots get confused, and think that I've disappeared. Unfortunately, that also means that all of my listings that have slowly made their way into Google's search results will now also be defunct. Still, I think I'd rather forgo that and just kill the bots.
Say what?!
In my Alma Mater's most recent alumni magazine there was an article about a sociologist from the National Study of Youth and Religion, who led "the largest-ever study of religious beliefs of American teenagers."
I just finished the final episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation
Not just a patriotic act anymore: it's a "coercive act" that violates a child's freedom.
http://www.cnn.com/2005/LAW/09/14/pledge.ruling.ap/index.html?section=cnn_topstories
So today I was making my rounds of blog reading, some of which are just randomly funny (naomi, jessica), and thoughtful/thought-provoking (padrerich, cody), and then quite a few which are just plain rants about everything from yogurt to car washes.
Every now and again I run across one of these bumper stickers on cars, and think, "this is true."
Actually, I think two thoughts normally. 1) This is true. 2) Probably a flaming liberal.
But that's beside the point.
So I've been going through all the seasons of Star Trek: The Next Generation recently, and one of the things that Picard normally orders is, of course, Earl Grey tea.
That's not why I drink it, but if I had a replicator I would order it as "Earl Grey, hot. Honey and cream." But today I'm having to drink it plain, because, horror of horrors, I ran out of creamer. Damn the food replicators; I haven't been able to get mine to work yet.
How do you claim heroism for committing suicide while destroying the lives of innocent people everywhere?
So one small part of the Credit Card project needs to change to appease the higher ups. Trouble is, I'm stuck.
This past weekend my sister came out for a visit from Tucson, and we spent a good part of our down-time playing Trivial Pursuit, a game we both love, but for which we find few willing participants.
A friend forwarded this to me, and I couldn't resist posting it here:
Occasionally I run across people who claim a theology of "pure grace" — as they call it — and which allows them the freedom to live exactly as everyone else does, with total disregard to the Will of God.
Again, having a bit of foreknowledge what is to happen to this young woman, I found this description of her rather chilling.
"The tone of her voice changed with the subject of her talk, passing from clear to shrill, veiling itself in languor, modulating to a drawl which dropped almost to a whisper when she spoke about herself. At moments she was gay, and looked at him with innocent wide eyes, then suddenly her lids would droop, and her eyes founder in a tide of boredom, while her thoughts took aimless flight."
Dissipation at its fullest, and a woman who has clearly not found herself within her own skin. Yuck.
As I read along in Gustave Flaubert's novel of human highs and lows, I found this description of the newly-widowed, yet suddenly freed young Dr. Bovary.
"He was filled with a hope which he did not specify, with a sense of vague happiness. As he stood in fornt of the mirror brushing his whiskers, he decided that he was beginning to look more attractive."
Wow. What a great description of the bloom of love.