Turkey Love

This is the photo I was searching for yesterday. My sister loves turkeys a lot; they kind of freak me out. But this photo makes me laugh hysterically whenever I see it (so I keep it over my desk).

(Sister and turkey)

Instruction Manual

I was looking through some old photos for something Thanksgiving appropriate. Instead I found this:

My brother Jake found my Knitting for Dummies book and modified it as a joke (poor kid has my sense of humour). I wonder if any of it could actually be applicable....

Happy almost-December and may your loved ones be easier to deal with than the thumb gusset of a glove.

Fighting the Man

I live in a house of men. Old men, but men nonetheless. My house is divided up into three apartments: Jim has the entire second floor, and the ground floor is split into my apartment and a second flat for and elderly man called George. George does not drive, and no one is really sure how old he is (every time someone asks, he gives a different number. These ages are not always in the same decade). He is completely dependent on public transport, and so we always talk about the train. Every time SEPTA raises its rates or comes out with a new kind of train, George leaves the relevant newspaper clippings in my mailbox or wedged into my storm door.

George and I are currently staging a coup d'etat against the Power Company. I came home from work last night to see George sitting outside. He asks me in a conspiratorial tone, "Do you have a computer in there?" as he pointed to my apartment with his cane.

"Yes, I do."

"In there?" he asked again, for clarity.

"Yeah, I have my own computer."

He wanted me to look up a website he'd heard of on the radio. Since the Power Company is raising its rates, he is thinking of getting all of us to talk to our landlord, Uncle Lenny, about switching. Honestly, I'm for anything that will save me over $100 a year and get me away from a company who won't take my calls about outages because they say I don't live in the area and my account doesn't exist.

(I bet they'd change their minds about that if I suddenly stopped paying my bill!)

I let George go on about the power rate increase before promising for the upteenth time to look up the website and report back. He even called out the first word of the web address before inferring that I should chime in and finish it-just to make sure I had the right one. This makes me wonder if George was a schoolteacher in his earlier days.

He even gave me a bag of apples as a bribe.

Uncomfortable Language

I am someone who can comfortably say that I love words and languages. I'm even starting to get the hang of the Daunting Crossword Puzzle as a form of amusement. However, there are the privileged few words that actually make me cringe whenever I hear or read them. Like the memory of an awkward experience in elementary school or that time you had five cavities and needed two trips to the dentist and 8 shots of Novocaine to fix them, these words pop up to haunt me at the strangest moments.

The following is by no means a comprehensive list:

• Moist: The ickiness of this word needs no explanation, though it does often remind me of used diapers
• Slice: I can literally picture someone's arm being cut off when this word is used...even in conjunction with the word "pizza" as in "slice of pizza"
• Flesh: Conjures similar imagery as the word above; used together is awful as is the saying "a pound of flesh." This word often came up in my writing classes in the phrase, "Let's flesh out that idea." I wonder if Dr. Lake ever saw me shudder every time he said that. And really, "flesh out?" What kind of sense does that make?
• Hopper: as in the toilet. I've never heard it used as anything else. I'm not sure I want to.
• Preggo: Almost like you're pregnant with an Eggo waffle or something.

I'm sure there are a few more; the problem is just that they're words that you hear, dislike, and then immediately try to dismiss from your mind.

**edit: I did come up with a phrase that bothers me too: tapped as in "he was tapped to design Kate Middleton's wedding dress." I have no logical reasoning why this should bother me. 

Smarts

Dear Conference Attendees,

One nice thing about these conferences is that you are provided with a badge that not only gets you into the sessions and exhibits hall but also helps prompt you when you meet someone whose name you should know. Sometimes the larger conferences will even give you badge holders that are designed to carry your name tag, business cards, and some pens/pencils. These are quite spiffy when you compare them to the crappy plastic envelopes with stretchy string that catches your hair and occasionally snaps the badge up to hit you in the nose when you're trying to take off your scarf.

Other meetings provide flare for your badge holder...because nothing is more lame than just a card with your name and university.

I know these conferences can be expensive, and I understand that you would want to get your money's worth. However, as much as this may be the case, and as cool as those badge holders are PLEASE stop wearing them outside the convention. You look lame. And not only that, but you are making yourself a target for muggers and hooligans in general. Don't you remember those public service announcements in the 1980s/1990s where parents were urged not to sew or otherwise attach their child's name onto their clothes? How vulnerable that made the unsuspecting child to a kidnapper. Though you, conference attendee, are grown up now, this same principle still applies. What could be more irresponsible then walking the streets of a large, unfamiliar city with a large, brightly colored square around your neck proclaiming "I don't live here!! And since I'm basically a tourist I probably have lots of cash and/or credit cards!!" 

Instead, get all you can from a conference by attending all of the receptions, poster sessions, breakfast meetings you can...basically anywhere you might find food. Drink to excess on the cheap wine and the Bud Light. Stuff those pretzels and spinach and cheese pinwheels into your suit pockets/purse/badge holder. After all, it's free, and they're just going to pitch the leftovers anyway.

Please, save yourself the embarrassment and possibly bodily harm by removing your badge as you leave the convention center/conference hotel/business meeting. Then you can go back to looking like a normal person.

Sincerely,

All the Exhibitors Who Know Better

Out of Office

Last week I spent several rainy days in Portland, Oregon. It was a work trip (so not much time for exploring), but I managed to find some time to break away on my own. Portland is a nice city for getting around inexpensively (read: free public transportation), and even though the weather was chilly and rainy it felt like appropriate fall weather.

On Wednesday, Irma from Books and I went to the well-known Powell's Bookstore on our lunch break. It was the only full day without rain-which was good because we ended up walking several blocks from the light rail stops.I'm not sure how long we were in the bookstore, but it wasn't enough time to fully explore the four stories of books on anything and everything imaginable.

We stopped at a bakery for sandwiches and then easily found the route back to the train. The neighbourhood was nice and filled with cafes and small parks...where we were suddenly confronted with some wildlife:

And I almost didn't make it back....

But everything turned out fine in the end, and now I'm back in Pennsylvania where the weather can't make up its mind and there are no elephants (but we do have a giant clothespin).

(Me in Portland)

The Dog of My Dreams

Growing up I always had a black lab. They're a little hyper when they're younger, but they're extremely loyal and sweet. Our first black lab never bit or scared my brother and me; even when we'd chase her around the house. She used to drag my brother (who was three at the time) around on the floor by holding the end of a tea towel. He would hold on to the other end and slide along on his diapered bottom. She was a good guard dog and also respected my parents' decree that she not be allowed on the carpet. But whenever there was a thunderstorm, she raced upstairs and curled up on my bed. I liked that.

A few years ago, my sister and I were watching the hound portion of the Westminster dog show. Suddenly, there he was...an Irish wolfhound. Impossibly tall, shaggy as anything, and a dusty gray color; I loved him immediately (and he won for his group). This is the kind of dog I plan on getting someday. 

Someday being when I have a house and a yard/farm large enough to accommodate a 7 foot tall dog. Or maybe we should call him a small horse as opposed to just a dog.... Either way, how lovely would it be to curl up next to such a tame beast?

Currently I will stick to Hank. He's space efficient and is currently sitting on top of his cage, curled up into a sleeping puffball.

Walks with Sister

This weekend, my sister and I took a break from our spooky movies to take a walk round the neighborhood. Saturday was a brisk, fall day; just cold enough that you needed a jacket and a scarf, but warm enough to actually enjoy being outside. The leaves were crunchy underfoot, and everyone had their pumpkins carved on displayed on porches, stoops, and stairs.

(lovely old church doors down the street)

(sister walks along)

(mums o'mine)

(sister)

(the normal sidewalk turned into this brickwalk)

Halloween and Some Kids

This Halloween weekend was a busy one, but, thanks to the Sister and Jemily (my combined nickname for my brother Jake and his girlfriend Emily), busy wasn't so bad. Nancie came over Friday night and helped me shop and eat too much; Saturday we put together a little Halloween get-together for ourselves and Jemily. On the menu:

• caramel apples (or poison apples)
• rice of death (which actually wasn't very good because it was rice and veggies in a bag; though as far as I know, it hasn't killed anyone)
• boo-ritos (vegetarian or meat-filled)
• cookies and candy (and lots of them)

(Jake likes caramels..also note the holiday-appropriate, disembodied hand in the lower corner)

Then we watched The Ghost Writer, which was not scary but still a bit of a thriller. And it had Ewan McGregor which is never a bad thing!

(We're supposed to be saying "boo")