June 2006

it's never what you think

"Well, I think about friends in the back of my mind
Are they still just kids frozen in time
The mirror won't lie as the days fly by
Are they all no better off than I?"
—Sugarbomb, "What a Drag"


Taking a break from my unofficial hiatus due to code work…

Courtesy of Chris Petrilli, I present to you Ministry Script.

'Alejandro Paul designed Ministry Script to be "A time capsule that marks both the American ad art of the 1920s, and the current new-millennium acrobatics of digital type." The idea was to make as many possible variants of each letter as he could possibly handle.'

a long-ranging plan

The tickets are booked. I will disappear for a little while in late July, and I would be lying if I did not say that the nighttime pathways of my mind have taken me more than once down the thought of sand between my toes. It's peace and quiet I'm after, both for myself and for the friend who is kind enough to host me, but there is yet much work to do before I can board that plane without undone tasks.I am the sort that is good for crusades; when it comes to code I am more stolid than gifted, as Gareth and several other true coders, whom I count among my friends, can attest.

Definition: check-ninja

I'm not sure if I came up with this word, or if one of my friends did, but we have universally adopted it and I think we need to share it with others. I show no results for it on Google, which makes it very likely that one of us really did make it up, but I don't know who gets the credit or blame.


v. check-ninja'd, check-ninja·ing, check-ninja·s

Free Juror Parking

It was one of Those Mornings™, the kind that you know are going to find you on one of those days when you aren't looking; the kind that, once fate decrees is yours, is inescapable.I left fifteen minutes earlier than I believed I needed to, but as I crossed the city to reach our compact little downtown, I realized it wasn't going to be enough. Worry caused me to push the accelerator a fraction of an inch closer to the floor before I realized something so odd and so silly that it made me laugh out loud:

What were they going to do to punish me for being late, put me on a jury?

As I made my way through downtown, carefully following the directions to reach the fabled Free Juror Parking, I called the courthouse and apologized. "I'm stuck in traffic," I said, "but I didn't want you to think that I was skipping out on jury duty."

The voice on the other end of the phone chuckled and told me to drive safely.

ø (empty set)

I don't have a pretty run-in for you here, or a way to lace together these words in a way that has meaning or resonance. In the end, they're just words, the words of someone who is up at one in the morning and who is thinking through keystrokes instead of being asleep, like she should be.

Father's Day.

How to survive a Chinese market

After nearly eight years of living here, it's rare now that I feel like a fish out of water, but there's one store left in this town that makes me self-conscious every time I enter it.

I heard that. You, you, and especially you, you dirty-minded little thing—I'll see you after class. Not everything in my life is about that.

Despite everything that's said on television and in those alluring ethnic cookbooks with their come-hither-and-eat-me covers, I've been wondering if I'm the only gaijin hitting up the pan-Oriental markets this side of the Mason-Dixon line. If the stunned and frankly nosy looks of the shopkeepers are any indication, my hair and eye color are either setting off warning bells or I've suddenly started looking like a shoplifter.

pot, kettle

I wish I could remember who started me on the path to tea, but I know that it has been a quiet presence in my life's background since college, as I believe Sperry drank tea regularly. I have no doubt that in the passing years I have been offered many a cup and turned them down due to lack of familiarity.I believe it may have been Gareth, when he stayed with us a few years ago, bringing a box of tea with him and having a cup during even the hottest days of summer.

an audience of one.

Somewhere, in the Official Book Of Personal Websites, there is an admonition about never creating posts for an audience of one. "The readership," it bemoans, "think of the readership!" The OBPW (a righteous tome inwardly certain of its correctness and self-worth, very British in that regard) goes on to decry those who would veil the true nature of a public piece of writing behind anonymizing pronouns, because if writing is made available online, it should be as comprehensible as it is physically accessible.

Hogwash. I've been creaking around this domain for six years now, and while the OBPW makes a fantastic stepstool in my kitchen, it's of little other practical use to me. I keep trying to run off all but the most patient of you lot; what's one more post in that vein?

If this post is impenetrable to you, then worry not and read on; it's not for you, but you're welcome to tag along for the ride.

* * * * *

Cat years: 6

Six years, it's been. Six years and nine days to be exact, and I'm still here. I owe you a debt of thanks, those few of you who have kept wandering by, even when the muse packed up and flew to warmer climes every now and then. (These past few months have been another instance of that recurring problem, but it seems to be ending, as the urge to write has been returning as of late.)

codename: sonata

The hallmarks of change have been there for some time: the favicon switching to an inexplicable light blue, the folder marked 'domesticat idea' in the 'design work' folder. Those of you using feedreaders this weekend might've noticed cat.net posts appearing multiple times in your feedreader as I re-jiggered the feeds to pass through some very basic markup that I've been using for months now.Add to that the sudden uptick in posts recently, and you might begin to suspect that something's up. You'd be right.

taking, and making, stock

Over the past week or so, I've been asking myself the question every self-respecting traveler asks well in advance of his/her trip—"What's gonna go in the bag?" My goal, admirable but perhaps ill-advised, is to make everything except my toiletries bag fit in one bag, which I will check.I will live out of that bag for a day short of two weeks. Thankfully, the vagaries of flight will deposit me in a land known more for sunshine than for snow. It's far easier to pack for sand and sun than it is for snow and cold. No boots, no sweaters, no scarves.

From the mailbag

Since I believe in letting everyone stand on their own words around here, I'll share what I just found in my inbox. The name and email address are unchanged. I see no reason to obscure the sender's identity.

Call for topics for Anthrax Writing Week

You, too, can influence the spin of entries presented on domesticat.net!

In honor of my recent hate-mailer, I'd like to announce a call for topics for the "Cynthia Singler Miura presents the Anthrax Writing Week." Topic suggestions should be short, preferably with satirical promise. Bonus points and extra consideration will be given to topics with relevance to the original email.

Extra bonus points and scritchies for topic suggestions so ludicrous that they make me snort out loud and say, "Oh yes, I have to write about that."

all tags: 

"Maybe we'll get used to eternal torment"

Usually I have at least pithy commentary. Right now, I don't, and nothing anthrax-related either (that's for later today) but I am contractually obligated to pass on this link that Brian sent me:The Armageddon Flowchart (crude text-and-arrows image but contains a few words in the image that wouldn't be worksafe if your work browser snoopers could read what's in the image)

I shall now alt-tab away from this window and continue tossing quotes from this image to my friends.