Monday, November 30, 2009

So your marriage is falling apart and you're worried your child is autistic? Be sure to let that weird girl from grade school know.

So I hated the new Facebook, blah blah blah. I am coming to appreciate one feature that piqued me at first.

Look on the far right, below all the unaccepted gifts for Zynga games you aren't playing. It's the suggestion box! It suggests people for you to friend, and friends you haven't interacted with in a while. I thought this was further obsessive mapping of my social networks so I can be tracked if I ever go rogue*, what with the constant encouragement to form connections! interact! talk to old friends!

Anyways, chances are you didn't listen. You're such an iconoclast.

I've found it very useful for something else. If I start to type a status update that's maudlin or a bit on the oversharing side, I glance over to the right. There's the face of my first boyfriend, right above the face of a very pleasant coworker who I knew for over a year before I realized he was dating another coworker. Those dudes are going to be reading my update.

I type something about kitties instead.

Oh good Lord, I wish to heaven that the people who have me in their "reconnect with Jane!" box had the same habit. Good golly, it would be nice.

*We all know I'm swimming to Maui when I go rogue**, since Ryan and Amy are too grown up to use Facebook.

**Did I spell that right? I've been reading the Rouge Angles of Satin article on tvtropes, and it really messed with my homonym spelling. I used the wrong "there" and "its" this morning, and must now find some way to restore my honor***.

***I also read about the 47 Ronin. All I can do is shake my head and say "Oh, Japan."

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Maui Swap Meet

Screw dating Ryan and Amy, if things don't work out with C, I'm gonna marry the Maui swap meet. Do C and Ryan have banana lumpia? Do they have cherimoyas? (C sometimes does have cherimoyas, actually. But he tends to hoard them.) Does they have a wide assortment of tropical fruit that smell like feet? Are they the only place on the goddamned island where we can find a hat that fits my improbable melon? (Once again; C, his large dome, and fragile beak is occasionally a good source for protective headwear. More frequently he is a sink.) Sure, the Maui Swap Meet has a lot of reeeaally bad artwork, burned CDs, and kitschy tee-shirts...


I think I see a pattern in significant other flaws.

But very few of the Maui Swap Meet's tee shirts involve anime from the '90s.

Oh, Unemployment...

I thought the directionless lethargy had already set in; I found myself incapable of getting up before 9:30.

Yeah, I just forgot to reset my bedside clock. (Used to be called an alarm clock, but not right now!)

Sunday, November 15, 2009

The Plan

I'm back at the parental abode, where my life is very dull. Thus, I'll be posting things that happened in Maui. I'm not there, I'm just pretending.

So one of the books I got at Maui friends of the library is the 1970's classic "I'm OK, You're OK". It's the granddaddy of all books on relationship games- and as the world's reigning champion of "Yes, But" I am interested.

Amy said animal training is based on a game: the friendly game. I believe that it involves convincing a horse that you are friendly and have the best judgement. You expose it to all sorts of disconcerting stimuli, and prove that nothing bad will happen as a result. The horse slowly grows to trust your assessment of the situation more than its instincts.

When I think about this game, I have a particular mental image. I see myself cooking some inedible glop in the kitchen of the Glacier apartments, and Amy holding up a plastic grocery bag. She waves it back and forth so it rustles, and then she says something pleasant. Rustle rustle rustle, compliment on my cooking. Rustle rustle, offer to do dishes.

As far as I can recall, this didn't actually happen.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009


We made it to the free gelato with the help of a befuddled and inebriated hitchhiker. We picked her up, drove 20 minutes out of our way to drop her off, and insisted that she have some ice cream. She snuck off into the night before our drugged gelato kicked in and we sold her to slavers. Or before we hit on her hard core, and the delicious dessert made refusing awkward.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

I make good on the promises of my first post.

Say a djinn appeared and allowed me to make one bit of feminist theory reality. Would I choose the end of rape culture? Equal pay for equal work? Government subsidized child care for all? Rejection of unrealistic body images?

Nope, In the heat of the moment I'd probably blurt out "End bikini area grooming requirements".

On a quasi-related note: Amy and I were discussing our responses to inappropriate questions during interviews. Both of us had been asked if we were married, she was asked if she was planning to procreate in the immediate future. Interview experts suggest turning the subject to how you won't have any problems doing the work- that your child care issues are resolved, that your husband doesn't mind you being gone for months at a time.

Amy's response: "Shyeah, that's none of your business."
My response: "You know that question is illegal, right?"

We both got the job.


The seafood section of the grocery store is 2/3 raw fish salads. I love it; it's the inverse of going to Wisconsin and finding the HUGE jello salad section.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

We'll make it.

Amy has a punch card- where you buy ten of something and get one free- for a local gelato shop. Our goal for my visit is to get that free gelato. The rest of this post will be listing flavors.

Lilikoi and goat cheese
Mint Strachitella
Sea mist: lime, green tea, lemon grass
Macademia nut
Sour Cream. (Hah)

Also, there is banana lumpia.

And goat cheese.

Friday, November 6, 2009


is full of industrial areas overgrown with plants. For some reason, this combination has always pleased me. An abandoned lot full of invasive species makes me depressed, but if the blackberries and hops are crawling over rusted pipes or aluminum siding, I feel deep satisfaction.

It might not be that full of plants and abandoned (or active) factories- but Amy's avoiding the highways and barreling down cane roads instead.

Amy took me out to the best bookstore ever- a shack stuffed full of slightly moldy books with a live chicken in the philosophy section. All books are ten cents. Amy bought some books on 1950s agriculture, and some books on how the environmental movement is crazy. (this way other people can't buy them) I bought a whole bunch of classic science fiction because such books should cost a dime. Upon return, she stole a couple of my books.

I've tried stealing "Soil, the 1957 Yearbook of Agriculture" but it's a tough read.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

I'm wrong!

It's a post on marriage management. Amy thinks he's brown nosing, but I think that if your wife is okay with you quitting your job to blog you should brown nose. Always.

Sunday, November 1, 2009


C has two friends- married friends- who are starting a wedding planning company for alternative ceremonies. I have all sorts of opinions about this, but I know from experience that getting bombarded with relevant websites is no fun when you start a new venture.*

My current problem is an etiquette issue. From previous experience, I know that the friends with businesses rules vary. If your friend is a brand new contractor and you need a new house, you do not have to hire your friend. However, if your friend just started a HVAC repair company and your AC goes out, you have to hire your friend. Moderate and smaller expenses get punted to friends. If there's any chance you might need to hate the person you hired as a form of catharsis, you don't hire a friend.

Where does wedding planning fall? Does it count if we aren't going to have an alternative ceremony? Since we plan on spending very little, does it hit the friend button? Since there's a good chance exposure to all my family will involve a couple of epic snit fits on my part, does it fall in the cathartic range?**

*Cuervito take note. If you feel a pressing need to read about 8000 words on buying a house, I'll stop biting the inside of my cheek in order to keep from forwarding every article I like. I'm certain that your father in law the former contractor and your mother the financial expert have that wrapped up. Also other people might have opinions.

**Yes, Cuervito. I know. Elope.