Mercury! Yummy!

Recently this video was recommended to me via email because it contained important revelations about CFLs. But I instead gained some important revelations about how ignorant our own politicians can be.



I wrote back:

This guy doesn't actually have a lot to stand on so he made his speech distractingly flamboyant. But it doesn't work very well.

CFLs are actually quite hardy & not that easy to break. The levels of mercury, furthermore, in a CFL bulb are not actually as high as this guy is ignorantly implying. Precautions are necessary in the unlikely event of breakage, but the broken glass of any kind of light bulb is probably more of a threat than the mercury.

What he's really protesting is the inconvenience of using CFLs. But even then he hasn't done his homework.

Americans are quite pretentious in thinking that we can abuse the environment & its resources as much as we do & not bother with recycling or conservation. Our nation really just produces a lot of garbage, because we can afford to. One day when our money runs out we'll find that we have been behind the times.

It should not be a huge problem to visit a recycling center. On top of that, CFLs last so long there would really not be many trips needed. They do not burn out like incandescent bulbs. They last for multiple years. The average life of a CFL is 10,000 hours whereas that of an incandescent is 750. How long would it take you to use up 10,000 hours?

As far as production in China, I would expect the US private sector will eventually take an interest in CFL production since it is obviously going to be a reliable market. And if it's not cost effective, then it is still in the US's best interests to acquire CFLs from another country. Perhaps when we run out of landfills we can rent land from China as well. I don't think that China has some secret plot to kill the US through commercial products. I think they are doing what they do best: mass produce things. They are a country of industry. On top of that, they have no reason to try to destroy us. If the US was gone, who would buy all their stuff?

While I don't support a full ban of incandescents, I do think that we need to start having more awareness of our resource usage, & I do think that widespread conversion to CFL would be a good thing. He's right that we should be searching for alternatives outside of CFL use. We should be switching to CFLs as well as seeking as many energy solutions as we can find. We should be doing all of that.

Sex & The City

So. I finally went to see this movie.

Sex & The City is one of the few tv shows that I actually sat down to watch tv for. When I say "few," I mean the only one, actually. The only other tv series I watched regularly was Ally McBeal, & I watched it standing up & walking around, because it was on the tvs at On The Rocks Cafe every Tuesday night & I was cocktailing at the time.

There are reviews of this show all over the web by now. I refuse to brave theaters during the 1st week of release so I see everything when it's already been chewed up & spit out. But here's my review.

Great movie. I don't usually go in for stuff like this, being partial to Scifi Adventure (Iron Man was The Shit.). I knew it was going to hurt at some places & I knew I was going to cry, which really didn't sit well with me, but thankfully theaters are dark.

Sex & The City is from the Brad era. There, I've said it: the word most of my close friends (I do have some) avoid saying around me. Like EQ, S&TC was a point of ridicule for my HBA boyfriend until he accidentally saw some of it over my shoulder (I could only watch it at his house, not having a tv of my own), & then he ended up on the couch with me, laughing at the girls' antics & pondering awkward situations. Like EQ, it was another thing that bonded us. Or bonded me, anyway.

But Carrie & Big ended up together while Brad & I parted ways. So a return to S&TC, knowing that it would culminate in a wedding (of course it would; are you stupid??), wasn't necessarily attractive to me. However, there was no way I couldn't attend. I had to attend.

In the beginning of the movie there were some flashbacks of Carrie & Big's previous break-ups, one of them in which Carrie begged Big: "Just tell me I'm The One. Just tell me... I'm The One." Which, we know from history, he couldn't do, & so they broke up.

I only vaguely remembered that episode, probably because it was too close to home at the time. When Louise, Carrie's new personal assistant, confided in Carrie that her ex-boyfriend had broken her heart telling her that he loved her but just didn't feel she was the one, I wanted to throw my soda at the movie screen.

I'm much less permeable now. But I can still get pissed.

I had never understood our break up (Break ups. There were 5 of them.). His explanations never made sense, nor did his behavior. If he would have just told me that he simply wasn't in love with me any more it would have made it easier for me. Would make it easier for me. But instead, as he extricated himself from my life, Brad insisted, like his life depended on it, that he loved me, really loved me. Gimme a pain sandwich with extra confusion & a side of ambiguous bullshit please. Yummy!!

After failing to meet her at the altar, Big sends Carrie a series of love letters. They are all (fictitiously), but one, quotes from famous love letters, because he can't find his own words & doesn't know what to say but still had to say something. Fortunately, Big did write one letter on his own. So. He did really have thoughts of his own. Thank goodness, since she took him back.

When I think back to all the different break up excuses Brad came up with, it's actually pretty funny. To this day I still don't know why we broke up. But part of me has been walking around all this time puzzling over not being The One. What would make someone The One. How someone knows when someone else is The One. Who I know that recognized The One. How could I have thought he was The One. Etc etc.

But maybe I can get off the hook here. Because maybe Brad was just saying whatever he could come up with to validate our break up. Maybe he was just quoting a break up expert because in actuality he didn't know what to say. And here I've been trying to figure this shit out for 3 years. And 30 days.

I know that using a movie to invalidate my last relationship is cheap, but maybe it's appropriate. At least there was one love letter that Big composed on his own. He did eventually find his own words.

Grats, Carrie. And grats me.

And THIS, my friends, is why I don't go to these kinds of movies.

AT&T Customer Service

4,000+ rollover minutes to use by July 4th. Plus the 600 I never use. How will I do it?

23 months ago I was in the midst of a painful, languishing dating situation. He was hot, he was a musician, he had a good job, he had a great house, he had 4 dogs. He was also hot. The problem was that he had a Cingular phone & he wouldn't fucking stop calling me, constantly, all day, all the time. He would even call me during my Thursday night BWL raid, when I had told him I would be unavailable to chat. But I put up with this nonsense because, well, he was hot.

He ran my T Mobile bill up to $200. I went out & got a damn Cingular phone.

I got rid of him a month later. I just can't talk on the phone that much. And here I was stuck with a 2-year contract. I had perhaps 5 friends with Cingular accounts, all of whom were more likely to text or call from a landline than call me on their Cingular phones. I'm not much of a phone talker to begin with.

I gave the phone to my mom who used an average of 45 weekend minutes per month & nothing else. Add 600 new rollover minutes, every billing cycle. For 23 months. Yeah, minutes expired while I paid $55 each month. Sheesh.

But emancipation is now imminent.

Cancellation was a painless, pleasant process. Cancellation can't be done at the AT&T website, & when I was informed I would have to call their customer service number I experienced misgivings.

I called 1-800-331-0500 & went through the automated menu options. The recorded voice spoke quickly (unlike HMSA Provider Services' recordings, which draw out every word & every space between every word to the max length short of actually slowing down the recording) & I only had to choose options twice: 0, then 4. Then as I was being transferred to a representative, my T Mobile phone lost signal & I was disconnected. For a second I thought it was a dirty trick (they did this to us at Tricare), but then I realized it was my T Mobile connection. Talk about irony.

My 2nd call to the 1-800 number was answered almost immediately by a CSR who was not from India (hey, this is already better than Dell!). Not only could I hear her clearly, she was very pleasantly to the point & did not attempt to waylay my cancellation attempt by reciting special offers that I might be interested in over & over again (already better than Citicard). I explained that I wished to cancel simply because of non-use, which could be seen plainly on my account information. She then transferred me to another representative who would do the actual cancellation.

I was interviewed briefly & not inappropriately, & then the cancellation was done. I was informed of the exact end date, my options should I wish to reactivate, & details of my final billing. She thanked me for my business with AT&T & wished me well.

Now, that's how a cancellation of service should go.

Food Review: Chez David

Once upon a time I was having dinner with my brother at Kincaid's, which is a wonderful option if you are looking for good, affordably-priced prime rib. Occasionally they have a very hot mama singing in the lounge area as well.

Add to that their ability to provide prime rib at the requested temperature. That earns like 300 points in my book. The correct temperature is huge. Huge.

"I'd like the prime rib," I told our server. "Rare. Like bloody rare. Like swimming in blood. If I can't get that, let me know & I'll order a steak." I'm generally pretty clear about how I like my beef.

"Same," my brother said.

When our dinners came, they were both just what I had asked for. It was just barely warm. I was greatly pleased, & our server was smug. My brother was actually a little nauseated.

There's only one thing, however, that is better than a bloody rare roast. And that would be a bloody rare roast with nuggets of raw garlic & a pothead's supply of butter sauteed mushrooms.

Now that's what I'm talking about.

I've had my brother David's chili, & it's probably the best chili I've ever tasted. Eye widening flavor & just a little too spicy. Now that's good chili. It's gotta hurt a little, like a good Anejo.

So when Audrey & I showed up for our table at Chez David, I was thinking about chili. But as soon as we got in the door I knew I was very, very wrong. But in a good way.

Fee, fi, fo, fum. I smell beef.

Yum.

Sorry, I couldn't resist.

The chef was cooking a healthy portion of heaven in an impressive-looking rotisserie oven. The instructions had said 15 minutes per pound, so he was cooking it 10 minutes per pound, he said. Or something like that. Heavy salivation affects my hearing.

"It's probably ready already," I said. Hey, once the outside looks brown that's good. I mean, you wouldn't want to burn it, right?
David promptly removed the roast & started carving it up. I guess the smell was getting to him too.

As you can see, it was perfect. I've left this photo large simply because it's too pretty to size down any more.

Entertainment while we dined consisted of the much-bloodier-than-the-theater-version director's cut of Troy (hell yes). Between the excellent meal & Brad Pitt as Achilles, it was a deeply fulfilling feast of... well, meat.

I'd have to give this experience five stars.

We'll definitely be coming back. David has a copy of 300.

Doggy futons

There's someone who would, if she was reading my blog, undoubtedly correct my loose use of the term "futon" so I'll apologize now. However, I don't think she reads my stuff any more. I think I've hidden away sufficiently.

Although he has a gorgeous house built by my dad, Jack prefers his old carrier, which was his bed when I first brought him home. It betrayed him by flooding Friday night during a heavy rain, which sent both Jack & Chie into the wooden house. I cleaned out the carrier, but Jack had not gone back into it for any of his naps all day Saturday.

The cloth mats I used to cushion his carrier (thick woven placemats - perfect size) had gotten damp & I'd pulled them out of the carrier & left them piled just outside. When I noticed Jack perched morosely on top of the pile, trying to sleep, it occurred to me that perhaps he liked that cushiony stuff. I needed to launder the placemats, so I'd have to find something else for him. Or... make somethine else.

I raided my grandmother's ample store of rags --- threadbare towels, ripped shirts & other clothing --- & picked out the softest pieces along with a smooth rectangle of linen. I spread the rags around, folded it into the linen, & started sewing the edges. I added intermittent single stitched knots to hold the insides in place. Jack's new futon was just the right size --- slightly too big for the floor of the carrier.

No sooner had I laid it in his carrier than Jack lay down on it.

However, Chie suddenly developed an interest in the previously unappealing carrier. A slight tussle developed & the futon ended up outside on the porch.

Hm.

I returned to the rag box, & sewed another, slightly firmer but more heavily filled, doggy bodypillow. This longer, peanut-shaped futon went into the deluxe doghouse, & Chie immediately nestled up against it. But as soon as she had to pee Jack got up to investigate & ended up possessively hugging the bodypillow in the dog house, & Chie happily collapsed on the first, softer cushion.

I hadn't realized that Jack & Chie would appreciate something soft to sleep on; this is the first time that I've seen Chie sleep inside anything, carrier or doghouse, unless it was raining. I thought all this time that she preferred to sleep just outside my door because it was cooler.

But maybe dogs like sleeping on beds too.

I guess I'll be raiding that rag box more often. I think we'll need more futons. I wonder if I should buy some foam for pillows too, or would that be tempting fate? Who knows how many pieces my hard, finger-poking (yes, I sewed some parts with a needle & thread) work will be in tomorrow morning when cozy sleep is no longer in vogue.

But I guess it's worth it if I can get cute pictures like this.

A Little Rant: Pi'ikoi & Lunalilo

Pi'ikoi & Lunalilo has got to be one of the most annoying intersections that I know of.

Left turners from Pi'ikoi never seem to have a problem fucking over those of us hoping to turn left down Pensacola just so they can get on the freeway a few minutes sooner. It's really amazing how base the human spirit can be when it comes to getting in front of someone else.

In the past I've driven up as close as possible to the asshats blocking my way & then held down my horn. Just held it down, continuously, until they got the fuck out of my way. Yeah, it's amazing.

Further up where the freeway onramp is there are always even more dickheads pushing their way into the already congested lane to get on the freeway. When in the onramp lane, I always deny admission. Fuck that. If you needed to get on the freeway, you could have gotten into this lane a long time ago & waited in line like the rest of us. Instead these schmucks think they're so much more important than the rest of us on the road that they cruise right on up the "to Ward Avenue" lane & then want to cut in at the last moment. Again: fuck that. I even drive past the upset would-be cutters mouthing "Noooooooo" out my window. Yeah, fuck them.

Ok, I feel better now. I'm going to forward this to Dave Hisaka.

Aye-Aye!

Omg, I want one.

This is an Aye Aye; it's an endangered nocturnal primate in Madagascar, unafraid of humans (they've been known to scamper up & sniff environmentalists' shoes) but reputed by natives to be a harbinger of death, & so now is an endangered species due to habitat destruction & superstitious extermination by villagers.

The picture at right is of newborn Kintana, captive bred in Britain. Apparently this species is the only surviving member of its genus, having branched off from the Lemur line 66 million years ago.

So far at least 2 babies have been born & hand-raised in captivity at Bristol Zoo. I only just heard of these guys from a cool email that Mike sent today, featuring the 25 strangest animals.

This thing is my ideal pet based on appearances alone. Talk about love at first sight. If it could intermittently mutter evil-sounding phrases I would be catching a plane to Madagascar tomorrow.

Omg, so cute.