On the Run from the Borden Police
I decided that one of the things holding me back from being a true Bike Commuter Type was that I didn't really have a good way to carry stuff--like a change of clothes, or my notebooks for class, or the groceries. I have a backpack, of course, but I have a tendency to sweat like Niagara Falls at the slightest provocation (sorry if that was more than you wanted to know about me) and so whenever I get anywhere and take the backpack off, I have to wring it out before unzipping it and removing its slightly dampened contents. Not ideal. I looked at snazzy panniers and saddlebags at the bike store, but the whopping price tags on those babies is a little more than my mostly-jobless state can handle right now. I tried tying my backpack onto the bike rack with a bungee cord, but bungees can slip, and I almost did a header into the canal when part of my backpack escaped and threw itself into the spokes of my back tire at the end of last semester. My final resort: Operation Stolen Milk Crate.
I hasten to point out that I didn't steal this milk crate. I got it from a friend of mine who works for a dairy, and her dairy presumably stole it from its rightful owners behind a supermarket at some point. But now I have it, and it's tied to the back of my bike with brown twine (because if you're going to look like an utter dork, you might as well do it up right) and I've been assured by one of my cool friends who bikes that the milk-crate-over-the-tire look is hip. At least I think that's what she said. Anyway, so now I'm living in fear that some official of the Borden Patrol will spot me peddling sweatily along the canal path toward the health food store, and call in their team of expert dairy snipers for the takedown and recovery. I'll never know what hit me.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
The Giant Brat of Madison
NIce Buns!
As promised, here is Kelly's picture of the giant walking hot dog and its handler. Sadly, it appears to be without condiments of any kind. Note that it's smiling bravely, belying its inner sense of mustardless sorrow and desolation.
I got turned down for another job, so I'm also trying to smile in the face of mustardless sorrow. Oh, wait, I do have mustard--this must be a different kind of sorrow. The kind with no money and lots of bills..... Ah well. I'm revamping my painting website, maybe people will start throwing money at me in exchange for tiny nazis and little space elves....
As promised, here is Kelly's picture of the giant walking hot dog and its handler. Sadly, it appears to be without condiments of any kind. Note that it's smiling bravely, belying its inner sense of mustardless sorrow and desolation.
I got turned down for another job, so I'm also trying to smile in the face of mustardless sorrow. Oh, wait, I do have mustard--this must be a different kind of sorrow. The kind with no money and lots of bills..... Ah well. I'm revamping my painting website, maybe people will start throwing money at me in exchange for tiny nazis and little space elves....
Thursday, June 08, 2006
I Saved Christmas!
Well, no, actually I didn't. But I did save my fishtank from being dismantled, which was about to be my last ditch recourse to solve my water chemistry problem. I was all set to net out my one remaining tetra (we'll call him "Mr. T") and the catfish, put them in a holding tank, and take the whole thing to bits, when lo and behold--the lord spoke to me. He spoke, and he said, "Try checking your CO2 levels. Dumbass."
I won't bore you all with the details, as Jane's the only other aquarist I know and we already comiserated on this topic. (We're each other's fish confidants--strictly monoichthyous, of course.) But the upshot is, ripped out half my plants, and *gasp* added some new fish to try to raise the CO2. Mr. T was stunned to have company, after all these months; but the two new serpae tetras are now totally his groupies, they're following him deferentially around the tank and apologising for living, and occasionally he'll smack up one of them to remind them who's in charge. I added 4 miscellaneous danios as well... but when I got back from dinner, one of them was missing. He turned up in the filter box; I gave him FPR (fishiopulmonary recessutation) and he came back for a bit, but I think he's really checked out for good now. Sigh. Stupid danios. I've never had any fish go up the filter but them, and it's happened twice now. Anyway, we'll see if I've really saved Christmas or not. I ordered the parts to put together a CO2 generator from a science supply company, which turned out on examination to also be a supplier of creationist science materials for homeschoolers. I'm really hoping they don't share their mailing list--I'm happy to buy some 30¢ rubber stoppers from them, they shipped fast and get aces for customer service so far. But I'd just as soon not get emails advertising books with titles like "Fossils: Fact or Fiction?" or quality dinosaur books such as this one, which came highly recommended on their website....
Well, no, actually I didn't. But I did save my fishtank from being dismantled, which was about to be my last ditch recourse to solve my water chemistry problem. I was all set to net out my one remaining tetra (we'll call him "Mr. T") and the catfish, put them in a holding tank, and take the whole thing to bits, when lo and behold--the lord spoke to me. He spoke, and he said, "Try checking your CO2 levels. Dumbass."
I won't bore you all with the details, as Jane's the only other aquarist I know and we already comiserated on this topic. (We're each other's fish confidants--strictly monoichthyous, of course.) But the upshot is, ripped out half my plants, and *gasp* added some new fish to try to raise the CO2. Mr. T was stunned to have company, after all these months; but the two new serpae tetras are now totally his groupies, they're following him deferentially around the tank and apologising for living, and occasionally he'll smack up one of them to remind them who's in charge. I added 4 miscellaneous danios as well... but when I got back from dinner, one of them was missing. He turned up in the filter box; I gave him FPR (fishiopulmonary recessutation) and he came back for a bit, but I think he's really checked out for good now. Sigh. Stupid danios. I've never had any fish go up the filter but them, and it's happened twice now. Anyway, we'll see if I've really saved Christmas or not. I ordered the parts to put together a CO2 generator from a science supply company, which turned out on examination to also be a supplier of creationist science materials for homeschoolers. I'm really hoping they don't share their mailing list--I'm happy to buy some 30¢ rubber stoppers from them, they shipped fast and get aces for customer service so far. But I'd just as soon not get emails advertising books with titles like "Fossils: Fact or Fiction?" or quality dinosaur books such as this one, which came highly recommended on their website....
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Olivia
Why My Life Is (Occasionally) Cool Beyond Belief...
Because I get to feed this gorgeous beast every Thursday morning, give or take a few. She's a giant pacific octopus named Olivia, and after an initial period of shyness she's gotten very friendly with me. Octopi are extremely intelligent and curious; I never get tired of watching her and her neighbor, the huge-ass cuttlefish. I've uploaded pics of them all on flickr if you want to see them, along with one of the very selfsame penguin who caused the entire Penguin Incident back in 2003. Check 'em out, yo!
Because I get to feed this gorgeous beast every Thursday morning, give or take a few. She's a giant pacific octopus named Olivia, and after an initial period of shyness she's gotten very friendly with me. Octopi are extremely intelligent and curious; I never get tired of watching her and her neighbor, the huge-ass cuttlefish. I've uploaded pics of them all on flickr if you want to see them, along with one of the very selfsame penguin who caused the entire Penguin Incident back in 2003. Check 'em out, yo!
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