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People Envy Your Compassion |
 You have a kind heart and an unusual empathy for all living creatures. You tend to absorb others’ happiness and pain. People envy your compassion, and more importantly, the connections it helps you build. And compassionate as you are, you feel for them. |
Archive for Miscellany and Whatever
What do People Envy About You?
My smartest spammer
There’s a spammer out there who has a porn site. The thing is, he’s got this brilliant spam technique, where he leaves film star comments. His search engine finds references to certain movie stars, and then the spam is a note with an apparently meaningful comment about that star. So when I review a movie with Meryl Streep, I’ll get a remark about how great she was in The Devil Wears Prada.
When I look at my moderated comments folder, I can scroll quickly past most spam, because most of it is full of links, and has no plain text. But this guy’s porn links are only in his name, and his comments seem sensible. If you don’t pay attention, they get through.
…but if you click the name at work, BAM firewall. Tres embarrassing. So I moderate the name.
What Superhero Are You?
Your results:
You are Spider-Man
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You are intelligent, witty, a bit geeky and have great power and responsibility.  |
In the City
I heard this amazing song on the radio. It’s called “In the City” by a band called Milton.
The lyrics describe the panolopy of experiences and sensations involved in walking in New York City. I felt moved by it, and I think no one has ever nailed down the contrasts quite so urgently and beautifully.
You know what’s great about the Internettubes? I couldn’t find the lyrics anywhere, so I looked up the band’s MySpace page and wrote to them and explained how moved I was and asked for the lyrics. They sent them! (Lyrics below the fold.)
» Read more..
Best dinner ever
Sauté leeks in garlic & oil over low heat for about 15 minutes.
Add ten peeled shrimp and one cubed tomato, and cook about 5 minutes more.
Add a handful of frozen peas and some fresh thyme, and cook about 3 minutes more.
Serve with pasta. Your eyes will roll back in your head.
My Obsession
Last night’s Question of the Day on Shakespeare’s Sister was, what’s your obsession? (Actually, it was a long, long obsessive thing on the joys of pumpkins, followed by, what’s your obsession? But anyway.)
So I wrote about boxes. Yes. Boxes. Or containers.
My son drags me through Ikea and TJ Maxx or I’ll just open EVERY. SINGLE. BOX. If it has a lid, I must open it. Boxes are cunnning. They are cute. I love them so much. Every since I was a wee little Deborah. Lids? Oh! Look at the lid! Look at the latch! Look at the enormous amount of room! Look at the tiny amount of room! I could put a safety pin in it. Just one safety pin. Isn’t that cute? Ohmigod COMPARTMENTS! This one has COMPARTMENTS. Look, the dividers come out.
So. Boxes.
I like baskets too.
If they have lids.
I totally love this stuff
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Femme socks
At this moment I am wearing black lace “trouser socks.” Trouser socks are a weird hybrid animal that sorta resemble socks and sorta resemble “knee-his,” which are themselves a hybrid of stockings and socks. There is more cross-fertilization among women’s hosiery than in the American Kennel Association.
I have to wear femme socks. If I wear plain black socks, they end up in Arthur’s sock drawer. Black lace is a form of self-defense. I also have these very cool black socks with pink toes and heels; the pink doesn’t show when you wear them, but they show when you do laundry, thereby warning Arthur away. I have like four of those.
So what do gay couples do? Loads of wash full of boysocks. Do they just…share socks? I suppose you could, I mean, I’m not attached to my socks, I just want an adequate supply. Or maybe separate hampers and separate washloads.
Or one of them could wear femme socks.
Hairy-handed gent
He’s the hairy-handed gent who ran amok in Kent.
It’s such a great line. Such an elegant use of language, so flowing, while at the same time bizarre and funny.
Some people don’t get Werewolves of London, but to me, a song that lets you howl during the chorus needs no explanation. I’ve often imagined that the song was written around the excuse to howl, or perhaps around an image of a werewolf at Trader Vic’s or of Lon Chaney Jr. with the Queen. (This is a hobby of mine, imagining how a song came to be written. Okay, not much of a hobby. But I digress.)
Well, while looking for a link for lyrics to add to this post, I found the real story:
Zevon wrote this with guitarist Robert “Waddy” Wachtel. When Zevon was working with The Everly Brothers, he hired Wachtel to play in their backing band. At one point, Phil Everly asked them to write a dance song for the Everly Brothers called “Werewolves Of London.” Wachtel and Zevon were good friends and were strumming guitars together when someone asked what they were playing. Zevon replied, “Werewolves Of London,” and Wachtel started howling. Zevon came up with the line “I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand,” and they traded lyrics back and forth until they had their song.
Anyway, I’d like to meet his tailor.
Halloween is coming
So is Samhain, but I’m not talking here about the Celtic Day of the Dead, or the honoring of the Ancestors, or any of that religious stuff.
I’m talking about costumes.
My office has a come-in-costume tradition. The only such office I’ve ever worked in. I have no idea where I was in 2004; in 2005 I was in Tennessee, so this will be my first Halloween with the costume crew.
What to wear, what to wear.
I made a kickass pirate at Starwood, but I’m thinking gypsy. It’s almost the same as a pirate except a skirt instead of pants and I don’t have to say “Matey.” Which is an advantage. Plus I have massive gold ring earrings.
What are you wearing (and to where)?
