So...I'm in the airport right now, ready to fly to visit my family and friends back east. My flight should've left 20 minutes ago, but we have yet to board, due to a delay. So I figured I'd blog. It seems I've broken out of my 1.5-year-long posting slump lately. Let's hope it lasts.
To get to the airport, I took a cab. I call up the taxi company, order a cab, and try to figure out why the receptionist keeps calling me "honey." (It may have been a reference to how some of my friends in college called me Hunny, but that would be odd, since none of those friends work at the All-State Taxicab company.) So after a half day at work, I go home, gather and pack the last few things, and catch the cab waiting outside. The cabbie is nice and jovial and figures out without me telling him that I'm going to the airport. Nice.
We set off at a nice clip, and almost hit another car, but that's ok, since my motto in driving is "a near miss is still a miss." (This being my second driving motto, my first being "The brake is on the left, stupid.") And then as we're going along, the car hiccups, like we ran over something, or the engine is coming down with the black lung. I raise my eyebrows.
"What was that?" I ask.
"Oh, the air conditioning isn't working." He rolls down the windows. Hmmm. Kind of confused here.
"What was that?" I ask again.
"I don't know."
"You don't...?"
"Yeah, I don't know. I am surprised too." This would've been an ok thing to say if he had said it in an adult-being-concerned voice. But no, he said it with a kind of wonderment, as if the car had just started dispensing free candy out of the broken air conditioning vents, and we were just reaping the benefits.
Note to self: Design candy-dispensing air conditioning system for cars. Make millions and get a tummy ache.
"Oh," I say, unable to properly respond to this. Then he offers some new information.
"The check engine light is on....like always."
Great. I am going to die.
UPDATE: I did not die after all.
I'll tell you my in-the-airport story soon, but I think we may be boarding now.
Want to have some fun? Walk into Bed Bath and Beyond and have the following conversation:
YOU: Excuse me, where is the Bedding Department? BED BATH AND BEYONDER: (pointing) Over there. YOU: And where are the bath items? BED BATH AND BEYONDER: (pointing) Right there. YOU: Thank you. And, uh, where can I purchase the beyond? BED BATH AND BEYONDER: I hate you and everything you stand for. YOU: So...you're all out of beyond? BED BATH AND BEYONDER: There is not enough fire in hell to express the rage I am barely containing. YOU: Hmmm...I guess I'll just look around then. I heard they have the best beyond in town in this place.
So a few days ago, I posted an audio post, expecting accolades, pats on the back, and a possible Presidential Medal. But alas, I forgot that few people read this, fewer would be willing to sit and listen to 5 minutes of me prattling about waffles and Monopoly and how every male citizen of the Republic of Tonga has a crush on the same girl from Liechtenstein (a country whose primary claim to fame is that they are the largest exporter of false teeth - no joke!), and even fewer would be so bold or generous as to actually post a comment or give me a backrub. No, I'm here, commentless and with an aching back.
But I decided to invesigate why I had gotten no real response. I realized that though more people than usual had visited my site - likely due to the actual presence of a new post, of all things. But I don't think people actually bothered to listen to my audiopost because - get this - it was pretty boring. You had to wait till the middle just to get to anything halfway entertaining. I think maybe if I try another time, I should start with a song and dance. Well, you'd only hear the song, but the dance would be hella cool, I assure you.
So it seems that instead of actually posting, I posted about how I should post. In other words, I blogged about blogging. It is a well-known fact that bloggers love blogging about nothing more than themselves, the narcissistic ingrates.
Note to self: a fun side project/post-modern digital perfomance art: make a blog whose every entry is about why I'm blogging, how I should stop blogging, that I'm thinking about stopping blogging, why people blog in general, or why the sitcom Becker was never really given a fair chance. Find a way to make ridicuous amounts of cash money off of this blog - enough to purchase Gary Coleman, or at least rent him once a month.
In the meantime, I leave you with an excerpt from my in-progress novel, Limestone:
Mac woke up and instantly regretted it. He concluded that waking up would just be the first of a series of bad moves that day. He had no clue just how right he was. He rolled sideways and off of the bed. He realized it was not a bed, but a couch. Craig’s couch. He was in Craig’s apartment, he decided, as that was the standard location for Craig’s couch. The word apartment seemed to hold some special importance. He wasn’t sure why. Finally pushing himself up to his feet, Mac decided it was as good a time as any to open his eyes, and tried to. Succeeding on the third try, he discovered that the normally level ground was writhing and twisting like a python, or like he imagined a python might, were it a hardwood floor with furniture on it. He realized that his stomach was trying to tell him something, something urgent. He ran to the bathroom and vomited with gusto. Deciding that he had had such a good time of it the first time, he vomited again.Vomit jokes. Will they ever get old? No. No they won't.
So I'm trying something new: audioblogging.
Listen, and all will be explained.
Let me know what you think, whether you prefer text, etc.
powered by ODEO
powered by ODEO
I wasn't planning on posting. I didn't have anything to post on that I could think of. But then I happened across this post about Sukkot found on the Lansey Brothers' Blog. I just had to leave a comment to that post. Hilarity ensued. Or rather will ensue, I hope. Or maybe despair will ensue. I just want some ensuing to happen, ok?
As I recall (and I am not making this up), according to the halachot of sukkah, you can use a person as part of a wall of a sukkah, provided that 1) the person doesn't move and 2) the person is unaware that he/she is part of a sukkah. So just invite some friends over: Eli: Hey, guys, come over my house for dinner!
Guys: Great! Later that evening...
Guys: Can we come inside?
Eli: No, we're eating out here, because it's Sukkot.
Guys: Oh, right. But where's the sukkah?
Eli: Um...I don't...know. Can you guys stand in lines forming a rectangle? Here, let me arrange you. Now don't move, ok?
Guys: What's going on? Why can't we move?
Eli: It's, it's a game! the, um, the "don't move till we're done dinner game!"
Guys: Dinner? So we can eat now?
Eli: No, not so much.
Guys: Why not?
Eli: Because you're not in a sukkah.
The Guys spontaneously combust due to the volatile combination of frustration and absurdity.
The Rabbinic Sages roll in their graves. Some may even weep.
So there you have it - a simple solution, all laid out. All you have to figure out now is what to do about schach. (Eli: Ok, now wear these branches as hats...)
By the way, women are not excluded from this. Even though the mitzvah of being part of a sukkah is a time-bound positive mitzvah, a woman can be a sukkah wall as much as a man can. However, it may be wise to adopt the custom of not having a sukkah made of both men and women, as it may lead to mixed dancing.
One of my very first posts, one which to this day, inexplicably, has fans, was my musical debut - the hit song "Blender Man." I'd provided a link which has since gone dead, but has now been revived (without being all zombified or anything). So enjoy, at your own risk. Maybe I'll make some audio posts, if all y'all want me to.
While writing this post, I was reminded of a question asked by one of my campers years ago:
Is "pudding" a conjugation of a verb "to pud?" And if so, how does one pud?Furthermore, I would add, is it safe for children under the age of 18 to engage in pudding without an adult supervisor? Is it legal to pud in Nevada? Can anyone pud, or is it an activity restricted to a select few, trained over the millenia to master the sacred art of pudding? These, my friends, are the questions that our generation must answer. I can only hope, for our childrens' sake, that we're up to the challenge.
The world is going more and more crazy, and this time, at least, it isn't my fault. I recently came across the following on the label on a bottle of Mountain Dew Code Red, a substance with little to negative nutritional value, yet one which aided a great many of my late-night coding sessions:
Contains: Carbonated Water, High-Fructose Corn Syrup AND/OR Sugar...And/or sugar? And/or sugar?! I'm sorry, but the phrase 'and/or' belongs in insurance contracts, not in ingredient lists. Then again, I suppose that there were early warning signals that Code Red was bad news. First of all, the name: it definitely violates my never-drink-anything-named after-emergency-situation-terminology policy,
which I plan on sticking to much more carefully in the future.1 Second, the color should've been a tip-off. That particular hue is generally reserved by nature for such crucial messages as "I'm a tropical flower! Pollinate me!" or "I'm a particularly good-looking parrot! Let's mate!" or "I'm heat vision coming from Superman's eyes. Die, villain!"
Since I am neither Lex Luthor, nor able to pollinate much of anything, nor particularly attracted to parrots (good-looking or otherwise), maybe this isn't the beverage for me.
You live, you learn, I guess.
"AND/OR?" Sheesh.
________1The policy mentioned above is similar to my don't-eat-anything-that-sounds-like-an-Aladdin-character policy. This, of course, is why I do not eat Babaganoush.
You know what's worse than a fatal automobile collision?
A fatal automobile collision with a clown car.
I can see the headline now:
TWO-CAR PILEUP LEAVES 53 DEAD; CIRCUS MOURNSBut the thing is, despite the tragedy, it's kinda funny, 'cause, well, they're clowns.
Some of you might be wondering where I've been, and what I've been up to.
Good question. Thankfully, I have a good answer. Among other things, I was making this video for Purim, the Jewish holiday where we all act a little goofy.
Itt's made mostly from fairly undirected clips taken around our house here in Cornell. I would explain further, but I believe this video defies explanation. See the larger version here, and while you're at it, check out the other two shorts we made.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
