put that cat in a bag...please, people, for the love of god already

I never thought I'd be able to use the "inappropriate animals" tag on a post from San Francisco, but the cats at Borderlands Books have proven me wrong.





Many of you know that I have a severe allergic reaction to sci-fi/fantasy literature, so you will not be surprised to hear that I only go to Borderlands under duress and as a favor to a particularly geeky friend. And usually I just go across the street to the Little Otsu vegan boutique instead. So don't get the wrong idea...because that bookstore gives me hives, seriously.

when running jokes collide

We have several running jokes at the apartment. One is about how at least one thing breaks seemingly every day, but that one's kind of a joke on us, so maybe it doesn't count. But also there's the water filter system that optionally plays "It's a Small World" as the water comes out—and let's just say it is no longer optional, as far as we're concerned.

Then there's the little internal window that leads from the kitchen/laundry area to the dining area. I'm not sure why this is so funny, but one time Alex and Casey were having a conversation in the living room and Alex needed something from the kitchen, so he stopped talking briefly as he walked through the kitchen and then pushed the little window open and stuck his head out and kept talking as if nothing had happened, and it cracked Casey up in a way I have never seen before. For a few days you could get him to lose it just by sticking your head through the window and not even saying anything. So now we make a point of occasionally sticking our heads through the window and initiating or continuing conversations.

And then of course there's the cat macro syntax. These days when Alex and I say "Oh, hi" to each other, we know that what we are really saying is "OH HAI."

So the other night Alex turned the water filter music on, stuck his head through the little window, and said "OH HAI." It almost killed me.

running on empty (wallet)

Round trip plane fare, OAK-PDX: $138.80
Two nights at Portland Hilton: $360.00
Race registration fee: $96.85
26.2 miles of sheer agony endorphin high: Priceless.

teh socks...i maded them

I know y'all were waiting with bated breath to see the completed pair of short row socks. And who I am to disappoint you?



Normally I take pride in not making my self-patterning socks match perfectly, unlike certain anal retentive people who shall remain nameless deb s, but these accidentally matched up perfectly and I figured it would be against my own principles to manipulate the starting point to force them not to match, so I didn't. I will just have to live with matching socks.

EDITED TO ADD: Hey! I just realized my socks match the blog colors. Fancy.

if it ain't broke...whoops, too late

A few hours ago we heard a loud bang and then all the power in the apartment went out. We aren't entirely sure, but we think it may have something to do with this:



That would be the plug from the living room a/c. You know, the a/c unit we were only finally able to use again for the prior three hours or so, because the landlord had finally come and jury rigged a drainage system that neither flooded the downstairs neighbors' balcony nor backed up water so that it dripped down the curtains and onto the living room floor. Three or four hours of air conditioned living room bliss, that's what we got before we got the Big Bang, India style.

So, we call downstairs for them to send the electrician, Datta. A very muggy, internet-less, water filter-less, fan-less hour or so later we call again. We are told he is coming in 5 minutes. An hour later, he arrives. To keep this post to a reasonable length I won't go into detail about all the reasons why it took a further 2+ hours before we had everything all fixed, but much of that time was spent in complete darkness.

Please note that the living room a/c was installed, brand new, about 6 weeks ago.

There is something I've noticed here, and it is the following: everything is a piece of crap. Brand new stuff malfunctions immediately or almost immediately. Some recent cases in point:

The newish washing machine requires you to stuff a pen into the latch opening and wiggle it around to trigger the latch so that the door will close properly. If you are lucky enough to get the machine started, it leaks water out the bottom, so you have to shove a thick rag up to it to absorb the trickle.



See the measuring cup in front, with the handle? Now see the one behind it? We bought those in early August. Within a week, I was washing the smaller one and the handle snapped right off.



This is the underside of a colander, also purchased about six weeks ago. The entire f*cking raison d'être of a colander is to have water flow through it. So naturally you would want to manufacture it out of something that rusts. Am I wrong?



I did some ironing this morning. I literally had to unwrap the plastic from the ironing board first, that is how brand new the ironing board is. I ironed a few pillowcases and sheets, and now the cover has a spot that looks like this:



Potential alternate titles for this post included "If it ain't broke, you haven't switched it on yet;" "If it ain't broke, you're not in India;" and "If it ain't broke, it's still in the box (but maybe not even then)."

OK. Completely unrelated topic. Run, do not walk, to get your hands on a copy of Susan Tedeschi's cover of Bob Dylan's Don't Think Twice, It's All Right from her CD Wait For Me.



I've had it on loop most of today; she's got a throaty, bluesy voice to give you shivers, and this is a great song to begin with (classic Bob in that he says what he wants to say by saying the opposite of what he means). Get your ass to the iTunes store and give up your 99 cents already.

teh new post...u has it

We seem to have turned a corner here at the Swingin' Linguist Pad and have started actually speaking and leaving messages in cat macro syntax. The note I left for Alex in the kitchen this morning said "BANANA PANCAKES...U HAS THEM. TEH KITTEH IS HAS GONE RUNNNING. CULTRBYE. PS PANCAKES GOOD WITH NOOTELLA LOLZ." When I got back from my run the pancakes were gone and the note said at the bottom "U MADED ME A PANCAKES--BUT I EATED IT. KTHXBAI." And when I walked into the living room in my wet running clothes Alex looked up and said, "Oh, is it teh raining?"

glottal stop

I am always surprised to see women on motorbikes here (whether passengers or drivers) wearing long scarves and other flowing garments that end up darting flirtatiously around the bikes' wheels like so many Isadora Duncan copycat deaths just waiting to happen. (Interesting--I just see that tomorrow is the 80th anniversary of poor Isadora's silkily throttled demise.)

But what really gets me are scenes like this:



Dad wears a helmet in heavy traffic while mom and baby sit sidesaddle behind him, draped in flowing clothes and with no head protection.



Baby, quite rightly, looks worried.

arrivederci, farfalle

This morning I grabbed my shopping tote and headed down to the supermarket. I got out the front door of the building and thought, "Hmm, seems like it is threatening to rain. Maybe I should get an umbrella. (pause) Nahhh, it's just a few blocks. It's too much bother going back up to the 22nd floor."

OK, I have been living in monsoon for HOW MANY WEEKS NOW? Approximately 800. Alright, like 11 or 12. Enough to know that when it even looks the teensiest tiniest bit like rain, you will soon be wetter than a Seattle swimming pool in April.

I got to the market without incident. The walk home, however, was a different story: torrential downpour starting just as I left the building. By the time I got back I was sopping wet, to the tune of having to go in the shower to wring out my shirt and pants, and towel dry my hair. Then I went to the kitchen to unpack my groceries, most of which were little affected by the waterlogging (fruits in plastic bags, that sort of thing). But as I pulled the last item out of the bag, a box of Barilla farfalle pasta, the bottom of the box--which was thoroughly wet and thus de-glued--opened up and the entire contents dumped out onto the kitchen floor in a semolina-based lepidopteran nightmare.

Next time I'm buying the ones in the plastic bag. It could have been worse, I guess...it could have been an $8.00 box of Cheerios.

linguist lolcat

This has nothing to do with India other than that I have jet lag and I am awake at 5:00 a.m. looking at lolcat pages (thank jeebus WE HAS TEH INTERNETS AGIN).



(Credit to the folks at Language Log.)

I am also liking these Shakespeare lolcats. They inspired me to make this one from an old photo of Albert:



And also: