Update:
I watched with fascination on Friday as a post by a former Fort Wayne News Sentinel columnist, and current blogger, Nancy Nall, broke a story about plagiarism by current NS guest columnist (although, never again), Fort Wayne native, and White House staffer (now former), Tim Goeglein. I read the post about 8:30 a.m.; by the time I walked out of work at 4:30 p.m., Tim's resignation was being reported as a main story on CNN.
Watching the story develop was interesting, weird, and a little scary--the relentless, speeding, viral nature of it.
I posted a lot of updates about it to my Ft. Wayne blog, Common Sensibilties»
Friday, February 29, 2008
About Leap Day
It's a rather vaporous day, isn't it? Sometimes here, most times not.
In the paper on Thursday, the birthdays for Friday were listed in leap-years--for example, "Rapper Ja Rule is 8 (born in 1976)." I read another story online about a little girl who's 12...but celebrating her real birthday for the third time. And another lady was turning 19--in leap time. She's really 76. Read it here»
On msnbc.com, there's an article embracing the whimsy of February 29, calling it "a breather day, a day to catch up, a wild card...."
I wish. Because when I hauled my body out of bed this morning, it just seemed like one more day to go to work.
Do you know what the extra day is called in a leap year? "Intercalary."
Read a more than you want to know about leap years on:
Wikipedia»
infoplease»
timeanddate»
Did you know that leap year is traditionally a time when women can propose marriage?»
Did you know that there is an Honor Society of Leap Year Babies?»
How can you figure out what year is a leap year? By using the Leap Year Calculator»
How to celebrate leap year? Of course there are online resources:
www.leapyearday.com/
charon.nmsu.edu/~lhuber/leapyear.html
Why have a leap year (if you haven't visited any of the above links)? Because the actual length of a year is 365.242 days....
Need some leap year gifts? Oh yea, you can buy some»
Did you know there's a movie called Leap Year? Made in 1921»
Okay, enough.
How about you? How are you spending this intercalary day?
In the paper on Thursday, the birthdays for Friday were listed in leap-years--for example, "Rapper Ja Rule is 8 (born in 1976)." I read another story online about a little girl who's 12...but celebrating her real birthday for the third time. And another lady was turning 19--in leap time. She's really 76. Read it here»
On msnbc.com, there's an article embracing the whimsy of February 29, calling it "a breather day, a day to catch up, a wild card...."
I wish. Because when I hauled my body out of bed this morning, it just seemed like one more day to go to work.
Do you know what the extra day is called in a leap year? "Intercalary."
Read a more than you want to know about leap years on:
Wikipedia»
infoplease»
timeanddate»
Did you know that leap year is traditionally a time when women can propose marriage?»
Did you know that there is an Honor Society of Leap Year Babies?»
How can you figure out what year is a leap year? By using the Leap Year Calculator»
How to celebrate leap year? Of course there are online resources:
www.leapyearday.com/
charon.nmsu.edu/~lhuber/leapyear.html
Why have a leap year (if you haven't visited any of the above links)? Because the actual length of a year is 365.242 days....
Need some leap year gifts? Oh yea, you can buy some»
Did you know there's a movie called Leap Year? Made in 1921»
Okay, enough.
How about you? How are you spending this intercalary day?
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
About Oprah, again. Or still.
I'd blogged before about my aversion to Oprah--the magazine, that is. I've just had to quit reading it--I always feel kind of depressed and inadequate in the face of its unrelenting self-actualization.
And until we got the DVR, I didn't watch the show very often, either--it was on before I got home from work.
But now, not only can I DVR it, I can watch it at 10:30 p.m., after the early news. So I guess I'm becoming an Oprah-watcher.
But when she has a how on like How to Look Good Naked and this one: Shlumpadinka Makeovers, well, what can I say? Anyone who likes fashion is okay with me.
That one about the Shlumpadinkas, now that was fun. I love the 10 basics everyone should have, and the lady who recommended the Brooks Brothers white shirt--brilliant! I wanted one immediately and so did everyone else who saw it.
And a show with Carol Burnett on it--I grew up on The Carol Burnett Show! How could I resist THAT?
And last night, when I needed to get to bed, what did she have on? This: Exclusive: Valerie Bertinelli Comes Clean About Living a Lie! I mean, Valerie Bertinelli! EDDIE VAN HALEN! Sex, drugs, rock and roll, and weight loss. How do you turn that off? Thank goodness for the DVR.
And even this one had its moments: Raising Sextuplets and Twins, Plus Sean Combs and TV Legend Phylicia Rashad. Those sextuplets people--I think they need an intervention from Dr.Phil. Those kids don't act too happy, and the parents seem stressed.
I signed up for the Eckhart Tolle class--I'm afraid the book will be lame, but, technolgically speaking, I want to see how they do the class.
I cruised the "be on the show" listings--who knows when they'll need a 52-year-old blogger from Fort Wayne? I need to be ready--all the more reason to watch the show!
I only watched half of that Valerie Bertinelle show. I've got it on the DVR. Gotta go!
How about you? What are you watchin'?
And until we got the DVR, I didn't watch the show very often, either--it was on before I got home from work.
But now, not only can I DVR it, I can watch it at 10:30 p.m., after the early news. So I guess I'm becoming an Oprah-watcher.
But when she has a how on like How to Look Good Naked and this one: Shlumpadinka Makeovers, well, what can I say? Anyone who likes fashion is okay with me.
That one about the Shlumpadinkas, now that was fun. I love the 10 basics everyone should have, and the lady who recommended the Brooks Brothers white shirt--brilliant! I wanted one immediately and so did everyone else who saw it.
And a show with Carol Burnett on it--I grew up on The Carol Burnett Show! How could I resist THAT?
And last night, when I needed to get to bed, what did she have on? This: Exclusive: Valerie Bertinelli Comes Clean About Living a Lie! I mean, Valerie Bertinelli! EDDIE VAN HALEN! Sex, drugs, rock and roll, and weight loss. How do you turn that off? Thank goodness for the DVR.
And even this one had its moments: Raising Sextuplets and Twins, Plus Sean Combs and TV Legend Phylicia Rashad. Those sextuplets people--I think they need an intervention from Dr.Phil. Those kids don't act too happy, and the parents seem stressed.
I signed up for the Eckhart Tolle class--I'm afraid the book will be lame, but, technolgically speaking, I want to see how they do the class.
I cruised the "be on the show" listings--who knows when they'll need a 52-year-old blogger from Fort Wayne? I need to be ready--all the more reason to watch the show!
I only watched half of that Valerie Bertinelle show. I've got it on the DVR. Gotta go!
How about you? What are you watchin'?
Monday, February 25, 2008
About my addiction
I was reading a blog and someone commented on the whiteness of Tilda Swinton, best supporting actress Oscar winner:
And it was oh so familiar, because I have been looking in the mirror lately and thinking the same thing about myself--I'm looking rather cadaverous. Because it's that time of year. I'm so white, I look like I have Casper the Friendly Ghost in my gene pool.
And lately, I've been feeling the pull--yea, even the siren song--that I feel every late-winter: The pull to ... tan.
Oh, I know it's bad. I know I shouldn't. I know I'm risking my dermatological health. Yet, when it's been a week since you've seen the sun, and it's been cold as hell, and you have come against your wall of winter tolerance, the spirit is not very willing and the flesh is weaker.
I want to go to the tanning bed.
You know, I've had massages. Massages are supposed to feel good, and make you feel better throughout the day.
Massages make me feel good for about 5 minutes, about as long as it takes for me to stand up and put my clothes back on. That's how long it takes for all my muscles to spring back to their normal tense selves.
But 20 minutes in the tanning bed ... now, that's relaxing to me. The white noise of the bed. The fan. The little eye protectors shielding me from carcinoma of the eye at worst or cataracts at best. The warmth that gets better and better the longer the bed is on. And it's a warmth that lingers with me for hours after. And just the light -- I seem to hunger for the light, as I do for chocolate.
And that little hint of color that makes me look less dead ... priceless.
Really, I don't tan well. I'm so thoroughly white, the whiteness shines through even when I have a veneer of tan. I kind of "beige," rather than "tan."
And I feel guilty about tanning--so guilty that I limit myself to once a week or so, and use some Jergen's Glow Lotion (or whatever) to further fake my tropical-ness.
I've got some minutes left from last year, so if I get a free lunch hour this week, I'm off. They'll only let me in for 10 minutes the first time. That'll fly by. So maybe I'll sneak in again, for the full 20, a couple days after.
And I'll get my Magic Glow lotion out, and start the process of coming alive for the summer.
You know what? I've read a lot lately that people aren't getting enough sun--we've become so scared of it, we're killing ourselves for lack of vitamin D.
So while I'm waiting for the real sun to come out (July?) I'll settle for a little fluorescent luminescence, and err on the side of short sessions and sunscreen.
How about you? Are you longing for some rays?
"Tilda Swinton has never actually been out in the sunlight, has she? I know Great Britain is famously cloudy, but she’s as pale as one of those fish that only lives in the Marianas Trench. I’m a child of the pre-melanoma ’70s, but I never see skin that pale and think “luminous English rose.” Only 'fish-belly.'” (Read it all here on nancynall.com»)
And it was oh so familiar, because I have been looking in the mirror lately and thinking the same thing about myself--I'm looking rather cadaverous. Because it's that time of year. I'm so white, I look like I have Casper the Friendly Ghost in my gene pool.
And lately, I've been feeling the pull--yea, even the siren song--that I feel every late-winter: The pull to ... tan.
Oh, I know it's bad. I know I shouldn't. I know I'm risking my dermatological health. Yet, when it's been a week since you've seen the sun, and it's been cold as hell, and you have come against your wall of winter tolerance, the spirit is not very willing and the flesh is weaker.
I want to go to the tanning bed.
You know, I've had massages. Massages are supposed to feel good, and make you feel better throughout the day.
Massages make me feel good for about 5 minutes, about as long as it takes for me to stand up and put my clothes back on. That's how long it takes for all my muscles to spring back to their normal tense selves.
But 20 minutes in the tanning bed ... now, that's relaxing to me. The white noise of the bed. The fan. The little eye protectors shielding me from carcinoma of the eye at worst or cataracts at best. The warmth that gets better and better the longer the bed is on. And it's a warmth that lingers with me for hours after. And just the light -- I seem to hunger for the light, as I do for chocolate.
And that little hint of color that makes me look less dead ... priceless.
Really, I don't tan well. I'm so thoroughly white, the whiteness shines through even when I have a veneer of tan. I kind of "beige," rather than "tan."
And I feel guilty about tanning--so guilty that I limit myself to once a week or so, and use some Jergen's Glow Lotion (or whatever) to further fake my tropical-ness.
I've got some minutes left from last year, so if I get a free lunch hour this week, I'm off. They'll only let me in for 10 minutes the first time. That'll fly by. So maybe I'll sneak in again, for the full 20, a couple days after.
And I'll get my Magic Glow lotion out, and start the process of coming alive for the summer.
You know what? I've read a lot lately that people aren't getting enough sun--we've become so scared of it, we're killing ourselves for lack of vitamin D.
So while I'm waiting for the real sun to come out (July?) I'll settle for a little fluorescent luminescence, and err on the side of short sessions and sunscreen.
How about you? Are you longing for some rays?
Thursday, February 21, 2008
About your TV poll results
Not many respondents, but two of us have American Idol as our TV indulgence.
About stuff I'd change if I could
And I DON'T mean heavy stuff, like world peace for all.Cos that's on someone else's blog.
I mean stuff to get you though the day, like:
When I drive up to my garage door, it opens just by me thinking "open" -- kind of like Microsoft Sync, only using the voices in my head. Hey, they've been annoying me for years -- why not put them to good use? Must I really put my cell phone down to push the remote button? Because I'm trying to text somebody something important that really can't wait one minute.
Anti-static spray that would repel EVERYTHING off of me--latte/tea/Diet Coke spots (and that Tide Pen commercial on TV is too true), white cat hairs, "pills," fuzz, lint, dirt, dandruff (not that I have any), crumbs, and unknown substances of all types. Oh! And that makes me smell really good, like cinnamon buns, maybe.
A mailbox lock that does not freeze, making it impossible for me to get my mail. And when I call the post office to tell them, they will say pleasantly, "Oh, I am so sorry your mailbox lock has frozen. Your neighborhood mail carrier will happily put your mail on your porch. Or you may stop by the branch and pick it up. Which is more convenient for you?" They will NOT say, "Well, you just have to wait for it to defrost" -- in what, JULY!!?? Have these people been talking to my newspaper carrier?
A paper carrier who understands what "Vacation Hold" means, and picks up clues that, even if they have not noticed they received one, there may indeed be one to follow. Which does NOT mean, stuff as many papers as possible in the tube, then let papers pile up around the base, so my neighbor has to get them. All this despite the fact I've called, emailed, and notified the newspapers AND them by every way short of smoke signals that will we are out of town for a week. Does not two or three days of papers not being picked up give the carrier even A CLUE that he might have to check to see is a VACATION HOLD has been placed? It seems not.
Changeable signage on my car that will alert people when: they have neglected to use their turn signals; exceeded the speed limit when passing me by more than 10 miles per hour; are participating in more than two of the following: smoking, and/or texting, and/or eating and/or putting on makeup and/or reading and/or looking at the floor of their car; have cut too closely in front of me (esp. with no turn signal); have pulled in front of me (esp. in Huntington County); are riding my rear bumper; have grabbed the parking space I was waiting for; are waiting too long for a parking space someone else is pulling out of; seem to be too short to drive--I can't see their head above the seat; are too young to drive, this would include all teenagers, who often are guilty of the third complaint; they neglect to turn their headlights on when it is dark, foggy, snowing, raining, or dangerous in any way. My sign MAY just include bad words for extreme situations, and perhaps even graphics, if you get my drift.
Oh there's more. That's why I have a blog.
How about you? How are you gonna change the world?
I mean stuff to get you though the day, like:
When I drive up to my garage door, it opens just by me thinking "open" -- kind of like Microsoft Sync, only using the voices in my head. Hey, they've been annoying me for years -- why not put them to good use? Must I really put my cell phone down to push the remote button? Because I'm trying to text somebody something important that really can't wait one minute.
Anti-static spray that would repel EVERYTHING off of me--latte/tea/Diet Coke spots (and that Tide Pen commercial on TV is too true), white cat hairs, "pills," fuzz, lint, dirt, dandruff (not that I have any), crumbs, and unknown substances of all types. Oh! And that makes me smell really good, like cinnamon buns, maybe.
A mailbox lock that does not freeze, making it impossible for me to get my mail. And when I call the post office to tell them, they will say pleasantly, "Oh, I am so sorry your mailbox lock has frozen. Your neighborhood mail carrier will happily put your mail on your porch. Or you may stop by the branch and pick it up. Which is more convenient for you?" They will NOT say, "Well, you just have to wait for it to defrost" -- in what, JULY!!?? Have these people been talking to my newspaper carrier?
A paper carrier who understands what "Vacation Hold" means, and picks up clues that, even if they have not noticed they received one, there may indeed be one to follow. Which does NOT mean, stuff as many papers as possible in the tube, then let papers pile up around the base, so my neighbor has to get them. All this despite the fact I've called, emailed, and notified the newspapers AND them by every way short of smoke signals that will we are out of town for a week. Does not two or three days of papers not being picked up give the carrier even A CLUE that he might have to check to see is a VACATION HOLD has been placed? It seems not.
Changeable signage on my car that will alert people when: they have neglected to use their turn signals; exceeded the speed limit when passing me by more than 10 miles per hour; are participating in more than two of the following: smoking, and/or texting, and/or eating and/or putting on makeup and/or reading and/or looking at the floor of their car; have cut too closely in front of me (esp. with no turn signal); have pulled in front of me (esp. in Huntington County); are riding my rear bumper; have grabbed the parking space I was waiting for; are waiting too long for a parking space someone else is pulling out of; seem to be too short to drive--I can't see their head above the seat; are too young to drive, this would include all teenagers, who often are guilty of the third complaint; they neglect to turn their headlights on when it is dark, foggy, snowing, raining, or dangerous in any way. My sign MAY just include bad words for extreme situations, and perhaps even graphics, if you get my drift.
Oh there's more. That's why I have a blog.
How about you? How are you gonna change the world?
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
About, winter is so over
For me, anyway, and I call tell you exactly when it happened: 3:45 p.m. on Monday, February 11. On Broadway. In New York City.
We Hoosiers had brought not just ourselves and our luggage to the city--we'd brought the coldest temperatures New Yorkers had seen this winter. Lucky us! Lucky them! No one thanked us, though.
After a day of seminars, our group of five took off walking from our hotel, also on Broadway, down that "Great White Way" to the Historic Ed Sullivan Theater. We were on standby to see the Letterman show being filmed, and had to be in front of the little souvenir shop by 3:30.
Three of our party were standby numbers 12, 13, and 14; another co-worker and I were 20 and 21. That did not bode well, I knew.
The street was alive with frozen New Yorkers; everyone in dark coats and scarves around their faces and quick steps. The temperature was in the teens, and the wind, funneled by those tall buildings, was more than brisk--we were walking Popsicles.
A frigid little group of Letterman wannabees were waiting when we arrived, and we chatted and took pictures as we waited. I lost the feeling in my nose and ears, having left my ear warmers in my room.
A few minutes passed, and a young woman with a clipboard came out of the shop; I crossed my fingers. We'd been hoping the cold had kept people away.
"I need numbers one through 14 to line up over here; get your ID out!" she ordered. "The rest of you I don't need!"
Crash. If I was cold before, I was frozen now. No Letterman for me -- no top 10 list, no Paul Shafer, no Dave. Just a long shivery disappointed walk back to the Marriott.
We'd walked about a block when it hit me: I was sick of winter. Sick of the cold, of the wind, of the potential for frostbite. I was ready for winter to be over, in Indiana, and in New York City. If I couldn't go to Letterman...I wanted it to at least be warm. I wanted to be able to enjoy the lights, the shows, the shops, the people. Instead, I just wanted to GET WARM.
NYC got worse before it got better, on our trip--the next day, while it was slightly warmer, it started snowing, and everything got slushy--later, it kind of sleeted, then got mixed, then just poured. Our flight home was delayed on Wednesday.
Winter's far from over, officially, but it's done for me...and anyway, I always celebrate March 1 as the beginning of meteorological spring. Only 11 days!
How about you? Are you done with winter?
We Hoosiers had brought not just ourselves and our luggage to the city--we'd brought the coldest temperatures New Yorkers had seen this winter. Lucky us! Lucky them! No one thanked us, though.
After a day of seminars, our group of five took off walking from our hotel, also on Broadway, down that "Great White Way" to the Historic Ed Sullivan Theater. We were on standby to see the Letterman show being filmed, and had to be in front of the little souvenir shop by 3:30.
Three of our party were standby numbers 12, 13, and 14; another co-worker and I were 20 and 21. That did not bode well, I knew.
The street was alive with frozen New Yorkers; everyone in dark coats and scarves around their faces and quick steps. The temperature was in the teens, and the wind, funneled by those tall buildings, was more than brisk--we were walking Popsicles.
A frigid little group of Letterman wannabees were waiting when we arrived, and we chatted and took pictures as we waited. I lost the feeling in my nose and ears, having left my ear warmers in my room.
A few minutes passed, and a young woman with a clipboard came out of the shop; I crossed my fingers. We'd been hoping the cold had kept people away.
"I need numbers one through 14 to line up over here; get your ID out!" she ordered. "The rest of you I don't need!"
Crash. If I was cold before, I was frozen now. No Letterman for me -- no top 10 list, no Paul Shafer, no Dave. Just a long shivery disappointed walk back to the Marriott.
We'd walked about a block when it hit me: I was sick of winter. Sick of the cold, of the wind, of the potential for frostbite. I was ready for winter to be over, in Indiana, and in New York City. If I couldn't go to Letterman...I wanted it to at least be warm. I wanted to be able to enjoy the lights, the shows, the shops, the people. Instead, I just wanted to GET WARM.
NYC got worse before it got better, on our trip--the next day, while it was slightly warmer, it started snowing, and everything got slushy--later, it kind of sleeted, then got mixed, then just poured. Our flight home was delayed on Wednesday.
Winter's far from over, officially, but it's done for me...and anyway, I always celebrate March 1 as the beginning of meteorological spring. Only 11 days!
How about you? Are you done with winter?
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