Down the Drain

If I remember correctly, I previously referred to some plumbing issues I was having at home - my kitchen sink drain had slowed to a pre-global warming glacial pace, making the washing of dishes extremely challenging. Well, yesterday the landlord came over with some high level chemical warfare to use on the pipes, along with an exorcist to cast out any demons who might have taken up residence in or near the clog. It took eight hours for the chemicals to work, and eight hours for the exorcist to complete his ritual. Mind you, this is in a studio apartment the size of two MegaDyneCorp Technologies cubicles. I don't know if you've ever spent 8 hours trapped with a ritual-crazed priest under such conditions, but let me tell you, an iPod is an essential piece of technology at such times.


In the end, though, after all the incense cleared and hot water was run through the pipes, I was able to wash my dishes in the normal fashion.

And so that my former coworkers know that someone in my life is still giving me a difficult time, I told one of my friends that my plumbing horrors had been eliminated, and she asked if I'd been washing my dishes while I showered. I replied no, and she then suggested that I could have washed them while bathing. Ah yes, that would have been nice, taking a lovely soak with a good book, only to notice waterlogged chunks of pasta and tomato floating past...

My week has not been all that exciting - much catching up around the house after the very busy week I had last week. Egon the Mad Scientist will be gone for the next week or two - I'm not clear exactly what he'll be doing while he's gone. After all, just because I assisted with his manifesto doesn't mean I'm privy to all his secrets. Perhaps he's meeting with a foreign government to aid them in increasing their power in the global economy. Or he could be assisting some other deranged researcher with their own secret projects. Maybe he's scored a stint as a technical adviser with some show on the SciFi channel. Then again, maybe he's going to be a contestant on "The Wheel of Fortune." If the Fates were to smile upon me, he'd be going somewhere to invent a self-cleaning kitchen drain, but that seems unlikely.

So today I'm hiding in the library, cooling off (they really could crank the a/c just a bit more - I think the books are sweating). Soon I'll be moving to the fourth floor, my favorite hideout. Time to get back into the serious writing groove - 19th century whaling novels set on steam powered submarines just don't write themselves, after all.

Another Monday

Here 'tis, Monday again. My weekend was jam-packedwith activities. The wedding on Friday was quite lovely - by far the most thoughtfully worded ceremony I've ever attended. It was a great event, and if anyone mistook me for a failed scientific experiment, I was unaware of it. So yes, I spent Friday afternoon brushing up on raccoon chatter for no good reason.

I danced until I had blisters on my feet (that would be something like three or four dances, I believe). Egon the Mad Scientist is quite the terpsichorean and dances one mean quadrille. Louis Quinze has nothing on him, I tells ya!

The wedding was also an opportunity to chat with another geoduck who actually attended Geoduck U the same time I did; we fairly trashed a couple of faculty in the course of a 20 minute conversation, always a bonding experience for alumni.

Saturday I had a bbq to attend, so I assisted in the creation of a blueberry cheesecake (bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha! no tasty cheesecake for you, dear readers, bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!). It was indeed a tasty cheesecake, with a magnificent, decadent crust. Mmm...cheesecake. I found a kindred spirit who also loved the tv series "UFO" as well as the Simpsons' parody of George Lucas's Phantom Menace (or Phantom Script, as I call it - sorry, Star Wars fans, I'm too old and cranky to be able to love any ol' thing with the Star Wars name attached).

My Sunday was co-opted by the Mad Scientist - he actually wanted my assistance in writing his first Manifesto! I was more than thrilled; I have a soft spot for manifesti of all types, and was interested to see his specific ideas for achieving world dominance, and what he would do with it once the goal was attained. No, no, don't ask me for details - I've been sworn to secrecy. I will say I was disappointed to notice a lack of plans for killer robots or the creation of a Godzilla-like creature, but I will work on trying to get those included. Stay tuned for updates.

We relaxed to some lovely episodes of Red Dwarf Season Six - Gunman of the Apocalypse is probably one of the finest episodes of the series, and always a great one to share with a friend.

Earlier in the week I attended my (former) department's picnic event. It was also a chance to say good-bye to some of the folks from the group that was sold off to Globex Corporation. We losers, er, former coworkers were given photo ops with the headlines in the paper that very day announcing that MegaDyneCorp Technologies was laying off a whole bunch of people.



It was nice to be there, hanging with the crowd, and watching the few brave and competitive spirits vying for prizes. I also negotiated alimony with my faux hubby - my alimony will be in the form of sausage. Yes, one day I'm expecting home-made chorizo for my dining pleasure.

Thursday, hmmm, I hung out with my bff and her son, a young man of 25, a youth with whom I spent many hours playing nintendo, exposing him to punk rock, and encouraging him to...alright, alright, I totally helped warp this kid's mind. I admit it. He still managed to get into the Air Force in spite of my corrupting influence - I'm sure he simply omitted mention of the fact that he knows me. It was fun chatting and I received a couple of cans of Japanese coffee to bring home; it's not bad iced, I must say. Japan and their vending machines.

Well, I apologize for this not being a better conceived post, but I mostly wanted to catch up my vast legions of admirers on my recent activities. I'm sure I'll return to a verbose and redundant state in short order.

Pedicure

I had my first spa-pedi today...and possibly my last, of course, as I am unemployed. I must say, it was a lovely, bone-melting experience, and I highly recommend it to anyone in need of pampering and relaxation. And now I have lovely vermilion toe nails.

All this is being done in honor of my friend's weeding this evening. I'm pretty much fine looking like an unemployed hippie bum these days, but not for an event that's cocktail attire. The Mad Scientist, attending a second wedding within one month, said he thought appropriate wedding attire should be au naturel. Frankly, I like the idea; not that I'm dying for the world to see me sans clothing, but if you show up to a wedding like that in a bath towel you're overdressed. Things don't get any simpler than nekkid.

I hope that doesn't make me sound churlish about dressing up for a very special event (and one that I'm very, very pleased to see taking place). Mostly I'm paranoid about looking like crap. I did at least seek the Nordstrom salesperson's assistance - and I have her card, so if I get laughed at, I'll be coming after her. She assured me of the following: I did not look fat in the dress, it was not too tight, there was not too much of me showing, yes my black lace bra straps would look fine underneath the sheer part of the dress, yes I really should skip hose and go with my bare legs, yes even with the bruises on them, yes my legs look fine in the dress, no I don't need a jacket or cape to cover up everything that people can actually see, yes she was sure I looked fine. Soooooo, we'll see. If there aren't any photographs of me, you'll know the photographer didn't think I was worth wasting film on.

If I were going solo I'd be a little less concerned, but I am going in the company of my Mad Scientist friend and I don't want to look like one of his failed experiments. No one wants to be the subject of this conversation:

"Hey, Egon, is this that half human/half racoon experiment you were talking about? I must say, even if it is a bit unsightly, it does have nice manners."

I must be too relaxed from the spa-pedi because I'm finding my own blog too funny...

So in 45 minutes or so I take my serious shower, wash my hair and make a feeble attempt to style it (when you actually plan for your attempt to be feeble it generally is), start working on the make-up, and rubbing nice lotion on all the parts the salesperson told me not to cover up. I'm so tempted to just wear an abayah. I did at least pick up a pashmina, so I can cover quite a bit if needed. I can just wrap myself up in it and hide in a corner like some sort of ninja-mummy...OMG, I think I just invented a new film genre! No wait, the mummy film that just came out has Jet Li. Damn! Oh, of course everything I'm wearing is black. That's why I'd look like a ninja mummy as opposed to a regular mummy.

I've been very busy this week - and I think I'm going to busy this weekend, but I'll do my best to catch everyone up as soon as I can.

For now, I've got to brush up on my racoon chatter, just in case I really am the subject of that conversation.

Somebody's Got a Case of the Mondays

But not me, dear readers! No, I had a lovely weekend. Oh yes, I caught everyone up through yesterday morning...no housework yesterday, nor yoga. Instead, I received a call from my Mad Scientist friend sometime after the noon hour proposing a few hours helping him with some experiment he was conducting and then a lovely dinner afterward. What can I say, I've spent too many years in an R&D environment to pass up the opportunity to play lab assistant, like in some 1950's B-grade horror film. It was too warm for me to wear a tight sweater, though, which is sad. Female lab assistants always look better in a sweater, particularly one that shows off their, er, charms. For my labors I was rewarded with sushi at my favorite sushi eatery, Hana on Capitol Hill. Yoshi did his usual excellent job in making me a very happy woman in the sushi department. {And no, you naughty people out there, the experimentation did not include any behaviour inappropriate to a Victorian drawing room, except for the occasional double entendre.}

Oh, I accidentally trashed my new hat, acquired Saturday, by mistaking it for my old hat in the frantic search for my PPE yesterday. That's what I get for my hubristic photographic display. Now the new hat has become the old hat, and the old hat is no longer with me. It's a good thing that I'm comfortable with my own studipity.

I did tell Mad Sci Guy that I scored a faux-spouse for the wake on Saturday - full disclosure, blah blah blah. He was impressed that I managed to acquire one for a few hours, and even more impressed that fake-hubby was wearing a kilt. In fact, my friend is threatening to get a utilikilt of his own; Ms Feral will let you know if that does indeed come to pass. More kilts, more happy girls and guys in the world.

This is going to be a brief post - I've got a noon appointment, and I'm still unshowered - but I have to clarify something. Rabbit in Red accused me of being a McCain supporter because I was critical of Obama; I'd rather be stabbed with a handful of forks than have John McCain as president (sorry, Republicans, that be the truth of the matter). I hope that doesn't mean I have to be completely uncritical of Obama. He can tie - or attempt to tie - drilling to whatever alternative energies he likes, but history indicates what happens when one begins to go down these slippery slopes, no matter how good the intentions. I've had enough disasters in my life, personal and societal, to know that 99.99999999999% of the time, you still end up on your ass at the bottom of your slippery slope, covered in muck, hopefully mostly mud but sometimes less appealing substances instead. My stance on hoping for change remains unaltered. Quarters, please, for the laundry machines.

Eeeew! Spiders!

This morning when I opened my front door an icky spider had constructed his home completely across my doorway. The nerve! Never fear - I dug into my arsenal of nano-nuclear weaponry to find one of my anti-spider missiles and handily dispatched him to spider Valhalla (and I really don't want to know what goes on in spider Valhalla, thank you).

I've been away from the tubes of the interwebz for a few days (for those not in the know, esteemed Alaska Senator Ted Stevens conceives of the internet as a series of tubes; the only thing appealing about that image is a recurring fantasy of Robert DeNiro a la "Brazil" busting into my apartment to repair my internet connection as well as my ducts...). I'll start with Wednesday evening.

I finally presented something for my reading group to peruse. They said I was redundant and verbose. Me? Redundant and verbose? Redundant and verbose? Me? Really? Redundant? Verbose? Hmm. Redundant and verbose. Maybe a little verbose. Redundant? Never. I'm not the least bit redundant. They did have a couple of nice things to say about my writing voice, and catching a nice 18th tone in my narrative. But redundant? I'm not the least bit redundant. Not at all. Maybe a little verbose.

However, as with any good spanking, inspiration was nonetheless derived, making me want to spend the next month in the stacks at Suzzallo, researching steam-powered submarines and whaling with a vengeance...but I've still got other things to attend to. Housework. Bills. Finding out when I can start collecting unemployment.

Thursday, on the way to the mater's house I stopped in at work. It was rather like a high school reunion - it was great to see everyone, and it took me forever to get in and out. I told them my tales of woe on being unemployed - sleeping in until 7:30, lying in bed for an hour or so to contemplate my day's activities, thinking about my blog entry, looking out the window and contemplating the universe...they didn't have much sympathy for my plight.

Thursday and Friday were mostly spent in pursuit of maternal errands and quests - life just doesn't get more enthralling than standing in line at Costco, I tells ya. I did get a copy of "Dr Strangelove" for my troubles, and expect to amuse myself with it sometime today. Woo hoo!

Yesterday was the memorial service for a recently deceased coworker. A very nice and proper memorial service was held in his honor yesterday afternoon...however, said service didn't really represent the entertainingly subversive coworker we all knew well. I mean, where was the vermin? So after the service and meet-and-greet reception that followed, the less reputable of us retired to the Rogue brewery in Issaquah to drink a toast to our departed friend with a pint (or several) of Dead Guy Ale . DG, our departed friend, was an award-winning home brewer, and Dead Guy was one of his favorite beverages.


I downed half a pint (I like the stuff, but beer is too many calories for too little bang), and then moved on to Maker's Mark, a move DG would have thoroughly approved of. My kilt-wearing friend JB was my escort and fake husband for the event (his wife was out of town, camping with their kids, so I was the wife-for-a-day and he was my fake husband); we were everything prim and proper, except for the conversation around the Kobe Beef Bleu Balls they served there...and no, I'm not going to enlighten those who were not in attendance. Some things can only be fully appreciated in their immediate context. I reported to JB that a woman in the restaurant sporting a Dead Kennedys hoodie (she probably wasn't even born the first time I saw them live) was definitely checking out my faux-hubby in his kilt; I did tell my readership that he looks really cute in it. It's all in the attitude, lads, just in case you're wondering how he gets away with it.

Ah, y'all are wondering what my Mad Scientist friend might have to say on the subject of me acquiring a faux spouse for a few hours? Well, I was unmarried when we chatted yesterday at about 4:30 PM, and I was single again about 5 hours later, so I don't know that there's much he can make of it. Maybe it will inspire him to consider donning a kilt, though. There's definitely a lack of kilt-wearing men in this town, and I'd love to see more of them.

My day today? Hmmmm, yogurt (I've only had coffee today), shower, put laundry away, put groceries away, vacuum, yoga, maybe Dr Strangelove. Never a dull moment at Chez Wilde.

All caught up on my exciting life now, so let me leave my readers better informed about their world than when they started reading this post.

In case you haven't been paying attention, Obama says he will support limited off-shore drilling to ease gas prices. Yep, that will solve all our energy problems; we should concentrate on that instead of long-term solutions to energy production, consumption, and just living more sustainably. The only change I dare hope for is quarters for the laundry machines in my apartment building, sad to say.

More importantly, and much closer to my heart, is a new ISO standard for the proper cooking of pasta - woo hoo! For those who cannot wait, however, here is a submission from the Annals of Improbable Research for the proper cooking of pasta:

2008-07-10 Piero's Preliminary Pasta Procedure

Hunger for the standard, and hunger in itself, demand at least one recipe. Here, from Italy, is a pert, 46-word specification from Italian chemist and rock star and LFHCfS 2002/3 Man of the Year Piero Paraidino:

"To 3 L of already boiling water containing 2 tablespoons of NaCl add 250 g of raw Italian pasta. Boil the mixture for 9 minutes, then recover the solid by filtration. Add 20 cl of extravirgin olive oil and a previously warmed dressing of your choice."

The Annals of Improbable Research is one of those sites on which it is very easy for me to lose hours of my life; I hope to lose a couple of hours there next time I'm on campus stealing wifi from my Alma Mater.

That's it for today; hopefully tomorrow or Tuesday will find me inspired to new heights of verbosity and redundancy!