A Sign That It's Going To Be Okay.

I appear to spend a great deal of time obsessing over RSS feeds. A few posts back I vented about Newsgator's new AJAXed-up beta reader, and how it's slower than the old reader it's meant to replace over time. I gave up on the beta yesterday, after being unable to get the unread feed count down from 1523 in under twenty minutes. I mean I couldn't get it down to 1522. So I switched back to the classic reader, and read all but 50 blog posts (and yes, that probably means your blog if you're reading this. Yes, you, dear reader. I like to get junk out of the way before I read the good stuff, and you know you're the good stuff. But I digress).

My mind goes through phases much like the moon. Yesterday, I considered myself to be thinking better than usual, because for instance I actually thought to switch back to the classic reader to get anything done. In preparation for the inevitable removal of the classic reader, I started copying feeds over to another online RSS reader, and then actually thought to look up how to export the Newsgator OPML file! It's shocking, that I could utilize my sick research skillz to make my task easier and leave more time for marking Spontaneous Opera Syndrome read.

This has been an elaborate way to remind myself how to export the Newsgator OPML file in the future, because you know I'm not leaving that easy.

A Sign That It's Going To Be Okay.

Deep Thought of the Day.

No one knows anyone else's world.

A child of seven couldn't care less what life was like in the 1930's, a man of 80 has no idea what it's like to grow up now. Empathy only goes so far, memories and imagination both have their failings. We're all fools, and the sooner we accept that, the better.

Meanwhile, this is a pisser:

Deep Thought of the Day.

How I Almost Ruined Meringue.

I woke up slurring. But that was not it. I could hear just fine. What I heard were instructions to gradually add the sugar when the egg whites were "frothy."

"AH DA ESS NOW!" I believe I said, then realized it was the eggs bubbling, and said, "DE SUGR! AH DE SUGR! DEY SAH FROHY! SAR ADDIN IT!"

I actually enunciate a little better than this when my jaw's all locked up thanks to my ventriloquism fixation of 1986, but I have to give an idea of what I must sound like to people, and that's the one I'm going with today. Anyway, I heard the word frothy, saw bubbles, and commandeered the making of meringue.

Fifteen minutes later, meringue was just beginning to form. Why? Because "frothy" is not when you add the sugar. "Frothy" is like when you get rabies from drinking too much peroxide (don't do it, kids) and a quick look at "How to akme merigue" on Google told me that the egg whites had to be way past frothy to start getting some sugar.

Notice how I develop dyslexia when I'm slurring. I love Sunday. Not as much as I love pie.

(I am happy to report that two days later the pie was gone, but we were all still alive. Meringue can work if you add the sugar too soon, but only if you burn it to a crisp in the oven to avoid death by raw egg whites.)

How I Almost Ruined Meringue.

Cat Face, He's Got A Cat Face!

Maybe baring my soul to Blogger isn't such a great idea. I'm going to stick what I enjoy. I mean, what I enjoy when I'm not venting. What I currently enjoy when I'm not venting is Cat Face, the latest series from the glorious beings that gave us Weebl & Bob.

If you haven't seen them, check out Cat Face, Cat Face 2, and the third installment, Cat Face 3. You will want to go out and be rubbed with a special scent. I know I want some ash. It's very important, you know.

Have a good weekend, peoples.

Cat Face, He's Got A Cat Face!

Waiting For The World To Not Be So Damn Touchy.

To follow up on yesterday's post about the choreography on So You Think You Can Dance, I'm watching the results show, and Nigel (who I *heart* anyway) started off by apologizing to pro-war people for the Wade Robson solo routine to the John Mayer song Waiting For The World To Change.

I shouldn't need to add to that, really, but it's been a while since I let off some steam on certain issues, and if you want an example of the amount of steam I could let off if I really unleashed it, I'm just sayin' that pipe that blew downtown last week knows how I feel. To keep it light though, because unleashing it is not what I do here, I will say that I like that John Mayer song, I believe in its message, I'm on the same wavelength as Nigel when I say that after three times, it started to be a running joke every time the dancers would scream, and I'm not going to go out of my way looking for more than the one complaint I read against that routine, because it boggles my mind (and it's been pulled so I can't link to it, but I assure you it was an amusing call for all peaceniks to die). It shouldn't surprise me, because So You Think You Can Dance is on Fox, and I know there's a fraction of Fox viewers who are so naturally confused that there would be enough of a deal made that it would go to the judges for a public explanation, and I just hope I never get caught in an elevator with any of those people, because the universe might cease to exist. Then again, we might meet, talk about the show, agree that the dancers are good this year, and go on our seperate ways glad that we met someone who knows what we're talking about, never suspecting the dark reality that there are some things we just might not agree on.

As for me, I had a problem with the waltz to Angel by Sarah McLachlan a few weeks back. First off, that song makes me want to self-medicate until I see unicorns that are able to talk by themselves. Second, why did the choreographers make Hok be dead? Isn't being dead not good for winning a dancing contest? I loved Hok, and they gave him some bad routines. That waltz made me uncomfortable, dammit, not some hope for the future dance by the guy who does the really neat hobo zombie routines.

Dancers are artists, and artists have pretty extreme views. You know, like, "Killin' is a sad thing," which I think I said a few days ago, and I'm just flabbergasted that some of the viewers of the show would get so twisted over a routine that was designed to show how each dancer did the same choreography, when you know, it's not like they came out and danced to Megalomaniac by Incubus. Although I would've loved that too. I guess that's why I just don't get it. This born-too-late-to-be-a-proper-hippie peacenik just will not die.

Now I have wasted enough of our time, Pasha's safe for another week, yay!

You know...speaking of wasted time. It's 2007. Grow the hell up and lose the bloodlust, world.

Waiting For The World To Not Be So Damn Touchy.