There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create
[...]
And time yet for a hundred indecisions
And for a hundred visions and revisions
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
(And this is here only to keep LJ from completely munging up the text when I post it…I hope it will work.)
Something showed up in the mail today.
It is a totally awesome hat. It keeps my head warm. It is in my favorite color. It slouches quite admirably. It has a sweet band design. And it was made by the completely amazing ![[info]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
lirazel, whom I heart so very much and wish I lived much closer to.
(And the instructions which came with hat were hilarious too.)
I’ve spent all afternoon wearing it despite the fact that the house is way too warm for a wool cap. :) I feel pretty darn special right now.
PS: I don’t think I’ve shared a picture of me wearing my new glasses yet either, so well, that’s me in my new glasses as well.
Since it’s my car, it’s a fracking pain in the rear.
Yeah, some $#*(&(*#$&@ went and spraypainted my car. There’s also a streak of orange down the passenger’s side, and some lovely green on the driver’s side, but the headlights are the worst victim, and the most frustrating part of the whole thing.
That said…it’s spraypaint. I don’t know what they’re going to have to do to fix it. *sigh*
It’s a sweet gesture, Sobe Bottle, and I appreciate it, but…I think the relatives would be a bit freaked out by the idea of my marrying a drink beverage bottle.
Presented without comment.
So every once in a while, I get a bug in my head about reading the labels on things and seeing just what the companies that make various processed food items think is a reasonable serving size. Tonight, I decided to try it with the ranch dressing packets. I glanced at the box: Serving Size ½ tsp. Okay, I think to myself, fish a half teaspoon out of the silverware drawer, and put it on my salad.
Wait, whu, that’s not much at all. That sucks. There’s not even enough there to dab. They have to have messed that up. Maybe it was tablespoons. Back to the box.
No, that’s definitely teaspoons. But, wait, what is this…
Prepared: 2 tbsp.
And then it all becomes clear — the half teaspoon is a serving size of just the powder, not the prepared mix of powder, milk, and mayonnaise. Whoops.
I think I need to retake reading comprehension.
(Hey, at least I can laugh at my adventures in stupidity.)
It’s Girl Scout cookie time. But Ebony’s already laid claim to hers — not because she likes cookies, but she likes the height they afford her.
Or well, maybe you have a better caption. Let’s hear it.
So, you all saw the picture of the Capitol Building at one end of Capitol Mall. You may have asked yourself — what’s on the other end? This.
To be specific, this is the Tower Bridge, crossing the Sacramento River between the City of Sacramento and West Sacramento. It’s a drawbridge — it raises up, and allows the boat to pass underneath.
What’s under the bridge? Subject for another time, but you might have an idea after seeing this photo from last spring.
What’s on the other side of the bridge? Wait until baseball season, my friend!
This statue is at my doctor’s office. Every time I come through there, I sorta admire her. No matter what the weather, she’s enjoying a good book.
But I am concerned about her inability to turn the pages.
So, I’ve promised a friend I would start taking pictures of Sactown to show her. It gets me out of the office at lunch — most of these will be walking distance from work — and it lets me see a bit more of the city I live in. I’ll start the series with this shot, from last Friday, of the State Capitol building here in Sacramento.
I joke Sacramento is a company town. People look at me strange until I point out that the company is the State of California, and when the state hurts, everybody hurts. And it’s been really bad times for the State of California for years. We papered over a lot of it with the housing bubble, but eventually those things come back to haunt you.
That said, I love our state capitol building, and I especially love it this time of year with the Christmas tree in front.
I have got to be one of the few people that keeps both their university fight song and alma mater mp3s on her work computer.
On the other hand, a stirring rendition of Fight for California on a midafternoon’s slog helps a lot. (And Hail to California, the alma mater, ain’t so bad either.)
(There shall be more shortly. I am still waking up from a long slumber. Please do not adjust your set.)
Or, I guess, more precisely, they’re ellipses.
Anyway, I’ve managed another lap around the daystar — thus ends my 33rd year on the planet and the beginning of 34. Or to put it in terms that are more understandable to most human beings: It’s my 33rd birthday.
I’m not entirely sure where my head is — heck, I’ve never entirely sure where my head is other than attached relatively firmly to my shoulders — but if I get a moment or six, I’ll try to write something.
No guarantees though.
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Nip addiction is a terrible, terrible thing.
Eventually, I will replace the right shoe’s lace with the match for the left, but right now it amuses me that my shoelaces don’t match.
So, Coconut M&Ms have nifty designs on them. Things like this make me happy.