Kudos to Jack FM, 100.5 here in Vegas, for slipping in just enough 90s music to make me feel hip and relevant. The 90s, the Aughts... it's all the same to me here on my kid-free lawn.
Does it bother any other TypePad users, the way the new HTML editor uses multiple BR tags instead of proper P(aragraph) tags? Because it's driving me bonky, and I'm starting to remember that I do actually have the (mad) skills(/z) to install something like WordPress if I want to.
And speaking of Points of Contention for the Modern Age (blogging app wars being right up there with browser wars), tomorrow is voting day. I woke up in the middle of constructing a blog post about why I'm doing what I'm doing tomorrow. I think I woke up because my mind was filling in possible crabby responses of the Great Unseen Audience, and it was just too irritating to keep dreaming.
So, in the end, I've decided to never speak of what I'm doing tomorrow. I would explain the exception to this decision, but that would be saying too much. You'll never know, but I hope anyone reading this just assumes that I'm voting the way they are. That way the peace is kept, and everyone staying nicey-nicey is inexplicably important to me.
You know, Mike never heard of the "don't talk about politics, sex, or religion" axiom until he moved here? I know that's a tenet of classic good manners, but I simply avoid these topics out of self-preservation. And if I had to identify which one is the tetchiest, I'd say it's politics. (Unless you're at my grandmother's house.)
You know what else? Mike just pointed out to me that Montana looks like a face. Like a profile peering into Idaho. Do people in Montana talk about this? Have I been too absorbed by the "Michigan's a hand!" rhetoric to notice?
Speaking of previously unknown stuff, here's an aside to Heather: Who knew Uncle Ben was so worldly?! We tried the other two sauces, and they were good, so here's hoping for the UB.
In fact, we ate almost nothing but paneer korma, rice, aloo-I-forget-what (taters 'n peas), and beautiful, aromatic samosas all weekend. The samosas were an impulse buy. They're frozen and made by this company, and how bizarre is it that you can't look at their specific products without a UPC code? I bet they use BR tags instead of Ps, too.
(I'm sick and peeked at the source. It's worse: tables and spacer GIFs. In heaven, Alan Flavell shakes his head a little.)
(This is why I had to switch careers. Yes, I became a teacher because developing websites was too emotional of a process.)
Nevertheless, the samosas were a delicious surprise - usually the bar for frozen food is not so high. Here they are, below, with Mike's paneer korma, my aloo mattar, and some basmati:
Have you ever had to ask for a to-go box when dining at home? I almost didn't photograph it; these portions are so embarrassingly huge. But, the alternative would be to wait to wash the pots and pans... and that would drive me crazy. Better to stick preplated leftovers in the fridge.
(Also, the cheese is drowning in the korma here because the first time Mike made it, I complained that there wasn't enough sauce. For the last few bites. Having other people cook is so much fun. I feel like I need an impractical divan and a pointing stick with some peacock feathers taped to the end.)
As I type this entry, I keep smiling over this past Sunday's King of the Hill. I think of Hank's eyes glazing over as he reads a disgruntled ex-employee's blog, reluctantly trudging through her hundreds of posts about bad customer experiences and banal observations. In the end, his experience pays off, but I still wish the writers had found a way to comment that the average blogger makes no promises of entertainment for anyone but themselves.
(I find myself humming a Doors tune, changing the lyrics to something about how the media doesn' knowt, but the sociologists understand.)
Finally, finding out that the girl from the A-Ha video is on MySpace was almost enough to get me to join. Almost, but not quite.
(I commend her for having one of the five "not incredibly and obnoxiously ugly" MySpace pages, though. Don't be offended if you're a MySpace fan. I'm sure you're one of the other four. Nicey-nicey, now.)
if you're going to join one of THOSE sites, at least make it FB.
:)
(it's my shameful little indulgence...)
Posted by: heather in pa | 05 November 2008 at 05:44 AM