Friday, May 28, 2004

Think Pink

A few nights ago, I couldn't sleep so I woke up and put on the television. I happened upon the end of an old Pink Panther movie, with Peter Sellers (think it was Revenge of the Pink Panther but I'm not quite sure.) Those old movies were incredibly funny, I really got a chuckle out of them. I wish I could get the entire set on DVD. Actually, I'm sure they make the DVDs, I just haven't gone out to buy them.

Over the past few days, I've heard the Bob Dylan song "When I paint my Materpiece" about eight times. Yesterday, I found out that Bob Dylan celebrated a birthday this week, I suppose that's the reasoning behind all the recent airplay. Kind of surprises me that they would hone in on one song like that but then, I guess, it doesn't really. I mean how many times do radio stations play the same top 40 songs all day long? Why should Bob Dylan music be any different? At least, in this case, it was a good song and it was kind of fun hearing various artists' interpretations of it. I also happened upon "You Ain't Going Nowhere" a few times. That's a classic, especially the part about the easy chair. I just don't know what to make of the bride coming but then, that's Dylan for you.

Ken insists that I only listen to Eric Clapton remixes of remixes of remixes, simply because I once put Unplugged on when he was there. He also yelled at me for putting on the Gypsy Kings. I guess he thinks I'm caught up in classics and not really up with the new stuff. I suppose that's true, a bit anyway, but I also love Los Lonely Boys and I've always hated Elvis.

Yes, you read that right. I HATE ELVIS. There, I said it. Give me Chuck Berry over Elvis anyday. Besides, I think poor Elvis has been dead for a year or two, unless you count all of the impersonating fake Elvii running around in Vegas. And you know how I feel about things running around in Vegas (it all reminds me too much of Ted.)

Wish I could paint them all pink, make them wear tu-tus, and splash into the pool like the various cars in the Pink Panther movies. Now THAT would be entertainment.

Until next time...

Wednesday, May 26, 2004

A Composite Sketch

I was reading a technical paper about composites and it got me to thinking. Before, I've speculated that you can define things in terms of context. You can assert that something is "more like" this or "less like" something else without defining the exact essence of the something itself. I wonder too why we cannot divide things into composites. We could say, for example, that creativity is a composite of both science and art.

I think I would make a good composite. I struggle with many different factions of self at times, but I tend to view myself, rather than as a whole singular entity, as a sort of composite. I have parts of self that, while maybe not making an entire "whole," do contribute to a varied front.

For example, while I'm part scientist, having studied engineering in college, I don't consider myself as only scientist. There's a part of much, very active actually, which is entirely more artist than scientist. While one could view this as disparate, incongruous separate "chunks of me," I could also see these as being composite pieces of a greater sum.

Interesting thoughts for the afternoon today, don't you think?

Onto topics more mundane, my folks are getting their new couch today. Should have already arrived at the house. Can't wait to take a peek and I'm curious as to how Charlie will respond, seeing as all things "couch" make up composites of his favorite furniture. I swear that dog would never make it on the floor.

Another interesting metablogging topic is that I'm quickly approaching my 200th web log posting. Not sure how to mark this special occassion, but I've got approximately 3 entires more to go before I find out. I would say, "I'll keep you posted" but that would only increase my count. I wonder if, in future days, we'll use phrases like, "I'll keep you weblogged?" Somehow just doesn't have quite the same ring to it, does it?

Until next time....

PS In case you haven't noticed, I've changed my closing line. The new one's a bit shorter to type, nobody else posts here, and I figured that, by now anyway, you should have figured out that I'm the "Carol" in "Carol's Little World."

I would also like to welcome several new readers who just happened upon my site. Enjoy the chaos, my new friends, and please toast to the great Gods of Google for me as well.

Tuesday, May 25, 2004

Legless and Discrete

I've heard the latest economy recovery described as "legless and discrete" and I'm starting to think this is pretty applicable. It's almost like a soul-less recovery and it smacks of a short recollection. Folks just don't remember all the hard times were caused by the euphoric exuberance and unbridled manic investment strategies. Today somebody came by and asked, "why is our stock up?" It's almost like asking, "why does the moon revolve?" Hard to explain something the behaves so erraticly as our stock price. Almost makes me want to hunker down and buy me some MSFT for good measure.

The radio has been blaring in my office almost all day today. Lots of different tunes on the box. Just heard a great rendition of "What it is" and now I'm jamming to the Allman Bros. Band. An old blues classic from long ago that was almost once forgotten, but survived to tell the tale of another day. Ah, the joys of soul-full music.

On the more mundane notes, my Mom gets her new couch tomorrow and I've created a blogger site devoted to my Java studies. It's rather dull, but I hope it proves to be useful, unlike this weblog which is quite the opposite. At least, I can't seem to think of an offhanded valid use for a weblog such as this one, and the misadventures of Ted, Ken, Kanchan, and company make for interesting fodder at times. Ok, maybe not all the time but we all have to stretch out a little now and then, don't we? I mean, we wouldn't want to end up all "legless and discrete" or anything, right?

Charlie was rather perky and all lovey-dovey this morning. Makes me think he's taken a dump under my couch or, at least, drank from the toilet. I always get worried when he comes around looking for a petting. Mom says he's taken to sleeping on his little cushion (temporary replacement for the missing couch) quite well, and doesn't care for being distrubed while he's resting.

Snooze on, little buddy.

Until next time...

Monday, May 24, 2004

Gone to the Dogs

This weekend my family and I went to checkout the WeeRescue dogs at Petco. They had several smaller dogs, which is what Mom really wants, although I don't think she's really quite ready to get a new dog just yet. Still it was kind of fun to go checkout the pooches. Charlie had a nice weekend, he stayed home and slept some and then we sat him outside so he could bark at traffic and howl at small children. He loves to do that, although he also got to checkout the pug down the street. She's vastly overweight but still smaller than he is, so she was like all underneath his legs and flopping about, while he was standing tall. Usually, he's the small guy, so it was quite the twist. I'm really wanting to get a younger friend for Charlie if, for nothing else, than to keep him chipper. He likes having other dogs and kids around (and we just know I'm not going to have a kid anytime soon.)

It's been rather nice out, although a bit hot and windy. A little too muggy for my tastes, but it's better than the inevitable hundred degree days we will shortly face.

On Sunday, Steve came by and we studied a bit for upcoming exams, plus talked about articles we have coming up. I do miss academia just a tad; the cycle of having things "due" by a certain date and the enjoyment that comes with the end of the semester and the beginning of the new year. This studying thing is really quite a twist for me, but I'm enjoying it a bit.

I'm rather sleepy today, which is unusual, seeing as I got plenty of sleep over the weekend. I had the windows open so maybe I can blame it on my allergies or some such thing. Possibly, it's due to a lack of coffee, which I can fix right away by making some.

In the paper this weekend was an ad for a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel for (I'm not making this up) 2G's. Hard to believe somebody would pay $2,000+ for a dog, but that's how it goes, I guess. They are rather cute. Charlie would like a shorter friend but, perhaps, one who's a little cheaper.

Until next time...

Friday, May 21, 2004

Greetings from the Land of Neon Cowboys

What is it about Texas and neon cowboys? For some reason, some folks think of Texas as this "exotic" land of cowboys, indians, horses, and the like. I hate to be the one to break the myth but, sorry folks, there's just not rolling tumbleweed all over the southland. Central Texas, when you think about it, looks a little like Florida, a little like California, and a little like New Mexico. But nothing like what you've grown used to seeing in the movies. There's no tumbling tumbleweeds, no cowboys, no indians, no horses, not even that much cattle or oil left to be found, although we do have wells and oil rigs in parts, and there are longhorns who graze in place not yet developed by land barrons. It's just not as "western" a picture as the movies would have you paint.

We do have lots of little brick houses (I live in one, in fact) a significant amount (although diminishing) of open space, more than our share of tacquerios (breakfast tacos are particularly popular), drive through liquor stores (go figure), and our fair share of highways, complete with overpasses. I wish I had a nickel for everybody who came to Texas and said, "Wow. You guys have overpasses."
Yup. Sorry to burst your bubble but, overpasses are us.

Don't get me wrong, I like living in Texas. The climate is mild, but seasonably hot in the summertime, the sun is always shining (we average over 300 days of sunshine in these parts) and the housing is affordable. Austin, in case you did not know, is somewhat famous, at least among Texans anyway for having trees. "They have trees in Austin," is something you might hear another Texan say if you should happen to travel to points afar. Yes, we have trees and we're not afraid to use them. You'll find true Austinites willing to park 400 miles away from an entrance, just to get a small patch of shade. Just force of habit, ignore it or join in the fun.

In case you did not know, the "official" motto of Texas is: "The sun has ris, the sun has set, and I ain't outta this damn state yet." Very true, this is. One unique (unless you could Alaska) thing about Texas is that it's BIG. It's honking, flaming, gasping, mouth-gaping huge, in fact, "BIG" doesn't begin to describe the size. It's more than 10 hours drive from the panhandle to the Houston coast, and that's with a good tail wind. El Paso is like a whole 'nother world, it's so far away. And, if you should happen to be one of the unlucky ones who drives all the way down I35 the three hundred or so miles to Mexico, may you not fall asleep at the wheel or keel over from the boredom.

You won't be seeing all that many neon cowboys, that's for sure.

Until next time...

Thursday, May 20, 2004

He's Baaaaack

Today, on the Blogs of Note appears an entry for Andy Kaufman Returns. Rather interesting story, in case you have not been following it, the comedian, Andy Kaufman once said that he would fake his own death, only to return 20 years to the day. He even gave a date for his return. On the chosen date, several true believers gathered together, threw a party, and...well you'll just have to read the blogger and follow the story in the media. It's just a little too wild for Carol's Little World. (I guess you could say that my world, while actually growing quite large, is not big enough for the genius of Andy Kaufman, the man on the moon, or the bad Elvis impersonator who showed up at the party.) Sigh. It's all part of the strange oddities you might find on the web.

I'll leave you with an interesting quote, from the website, "But why do we always need proof? Sometimes you've just gotta believe, if only for the sake of believing itself." Right on, Andy. Or, um, whoever you may happen to be.

This sort of thing kind of reminds me of the X Files. Speaking about all things X File, I happened upon an old re-run last night. I was watching Jerry Orbach's departure from Law and Order then switched the channel to happen upon an old X File Re-run. It was already dark and I was already tired, so I switched it off to some news program, set the sleep timer, and nodded off to sleep.

Still, I can't help but wonder...what if? What if that was one of the episodes X File that explained in part the Smoking Man and his true relationship with Scully? What if that was the episode where Mulder found his sister? Wouldn't it be a wildly grand conspiracy if the government blocked the original airing of the X Files, only to reveal the truth in late night re-runs, which, subsequently, nobody watched?

If you believe the X Files, then you too must have faith in the motto: "The truth is out there." But, if the true is indeed, as they say, "out there" then how do we really know it's not fully explained in late-night television? I mean, technically speaking, isn't late night TV really "out there?"

Maybe Andy Kaufman stayed home for 20 years and watched a lot of late night TV?

Until next time...

Wednesday, May 19, 2004

Cures for the Common Malaise

Steve has IM-ed me this link, which is rather psychedelic if you stare at it for any amount of time. He's also emailed me a rather funny URL about somebody who out-scamed an EBAY scammer. Very long, but interesting reading. Perhaps Ted should go into business selling T-shirts, and other casual attire, imprinted with the phrase, "I scammed MyNameisJohn and all I got was this lousy P-P-P-Powerbook." It would supplement his income from the vending machines at least.

Norah Jones is coming to the Backyard. What an interesting concert that would be. I bet she's as great in concert as she is on record. I can almost imagine a nice, quiet evening out under the stars.

The latest thing at work appears to be small magnetic construction type sets. A few folks have and play with them regularly, while others want them. Not really my speed, they just don't do it for me. I'm happy with my stereo, my PostIts, and my little coffee pot, down the end of the hallway.

Steve has also IM-ed me today to inform me that he's started boning up on his Java skills, in preparation for the certification exam. He's one step ahead of me, although we've agreed to meet on Sunday for review sessions. It's going to be hard, frankly, keeping up, as I've always been the lazier of the two of us. He's passed on the gig at IBM which, I think, is a good thing. After six years at that place, he should just call it quits and move on. Cut your losses and find higher ground, my friend, Steve.

How many brother's did Snoopy from Peanuts have? I know of Spike, the beagle out in Needles (the desert) and Olauf, the attorney with the briefcase, by memory fails and I can't help but think there's another I can remember. Ah, Lucy, here's a nickel for your thoughts, lil' sister.

Today's quote: "You just can't stop negative thinking. Or thinking negatively. Or being negative about thinking. Something like that."

Until next time...

Tuesday, May 18, 2004

Phew! That was Close

Several friends are now looking for jobs. Right this second, they are off interviewing, sending resumes in bulk, phone screening, and the like. Interesting thing is that many of them keep sending me postings saying things like, "you should apply for this. It looks like something you want to do." I've come across a few job postings recently that do look quite interesting, although I'm not really looking. Why is it that we always seem to happen upon things when we're not really looking? Just makes for interesting thoughts, doesn't it? I mean, how do we explain, in the great cosmos of life, the concept of serendipity?

I've got plans in place, and I am thinking about the future, but it's not here yet and so, my current state of mind is to "be prepared." I'm trying to hard to be steady, stay the course, enjoy the ride, be constant. Even so, folks are tempting me from afar, sending email with events, and making me stop to rethink things. I'm sort of at a crossroads and, the scary part is that, the future and the success of my destination depends, in part anyway, on the choices I make in the next few months.

Every opportunity that I pass up, makes me stop and think how closer I am to making a move without really giving it any thought. Sure I'm somewhat determined but I can't help but be tempted by what's flying by, across my radar. It's really becoming an interesting time.

On a completely unrelated topic, tomorrow night is Jerry Orbach's last night on Law and Order. They are moving him to a new show, Law and Order/Trial and Jury (or some such thing.) It should be a really interesting move, I can't wait to see how it's going to play out. Kind of shocking if you think about it but it also fascinates me how, even old stale "salty dog" things seem jarring in the face of change.

Reminds me of that line from the Bowie song, "time changes everything but I can't trace time." All I can do is look back, upon missed opportunities, and ponder.

Until next time...

Monday, May 17, 2004

Too Tired to Blog Today

I had such a busy weekend that I'm almost too tired to blog today. On Saturday, I had an old friend over in the afternoon, we chatted for what seemed like hours before he had to split. Then, later in the afternoon, I had some friends/co-workers over to play Catan. The game was kind of fun, although a bit anti-climatic (seeing as I won and all. And won by saying something like, "I think I'm at 10 points now.")

On Sunday, Steve came over to work on some projects and I also had a tribe in from the neighborhood to view my house. Seems that somebody 'round the way has a friend who is interested in buying my model and they happened upon my folks who said they could go talk a "walking tour" of my house. My back was really bothering me on Sunday so the tribe (as I call them) went without me, while I sprawled out on my mothers back bench, trying to stretch out my pains.

The back pain is almost gone today, although I can almost feel a hint of it and, I believe, I'm still not walking quite right. Charlie slept on me last night and aggravated it a bit. Although I think I finally (unfortunately) found a way of getting even. Late Saturday night, I rolled over in my (almost) sleep and sent poor Charlie flying. He flew off the bed, hit the trunk at the end of the bed, and landed (softly) on the floor. I felt really bad, seeing as he's been feeling a bit under the weather and he seems almost like he's taking ill lately. He appeared to weather the 'cross the room fling without too much harm and still managed to snuggle onto my pillow last night so, I guess, all is well in Charlie-land. We'll just have to keep an eye out to make sure he's ok.

It's kind of almost funny how so much can happen in one weekend and yet, somehow, I don't feel like anything did happen. It still feels like it was uneventful, although I do feel quite refreshed and much more even tempered. For all that happened, or maybe didn't happen, perhaps didn't feel like it happened, I do feel like I was "away" for a few days, even though I spent most of it at home and much of it sprawled out on the bed or couch trying to fix the old aching back.

I suppose, if I had to sum up the entire weekend in a few syllables, it would have to be "a nice mental break." Which, while making me tired, is still better than "a nice mental breakdown."

Until next time...

Friday, May 14, 2004

Seventy Five Thousand Words about Fake Italy

One of the new features of the new is the fact that it now tells you how much you've written and on which topics. Hard to believe it but, officially, Carol's Little World is more than seventy five thousand words. Imagine being a kid, back in elementary school, having an English teacher instruct you to write a term paper that was seventy five thousand words long. Wouldn't happen, would it? You would have like gone on strike, violently protested, or stuck a giant wad of gum under the desk. Perhaps you would have even complained to your folks. And yet, somehow, through the magic of the web, I've brought you a giant term paper from the learning institute of life. It's Carol's Little World in black and white and read all over. Well, it's read in in certain parts of San Antonio, Texas at least. Sometimes, if the wind is blowing in the right direction and the auto parts store is slow.

Today I met a friend for lunch at Tuscany, which is, as she called it, a "pretentiously fake Italian restaurant and cafe," located very close to where I work. It even has fake tiles painted on the walls. Nevertheless, we embarked upon this journey, to the oh so fake psuedo-Italian bistro for lunch, and found that the food was actually not all that bad. I do like Italian food, the place does get a bit crowded (Ok, maybe more than a bit,) and it was rather pretentious (even down to the really bad artwork on the walls) but it was a nice lunch despite any pretenses. The weather actually turned a little this afternoon and it was nice sitting there chatting up a storm, while the sun fought through and tried to win over the clouds. (Just for the record, it's now quite sunny and warm outside.)

After lunch, I went to Thor's Hammer, a gaming store also located near where I work, to purchase my very own copy of The Settlers of Catan which, in case you did not know, is an addicting board game. We've got a game session scheduled for sometime tomorrow, although we have been playing Monday's at lunchtime and Thursday's after work. It's quite a fun game, actually and more than a bit addictive. It involves (I'm not making this up) trading of sheep, building of cities, and drawing of resources.

I drove over to Thor's Hammer with a fellow from work who hadn't eaten lunch yet so I offered to swing by, you guessed it, Tuscany again on the way back into work so that he could pickup some food and I could grab a fru-fru coffee drink. You see, it's been several months since I've gone fru-fru, what with the Java pods right down the hallway and all, so I thought it timely. But, in hindsight, this makes two "drive bys" to the old "pretentious fake-Italy 'round the bend" and I don't quite know what to think of it all. I mean, can I possibly take any more pretentiously bad artwork, fake tiles, or pseudo Venetian plaster? The mind boggles.

Perhaps, with airfares getting lower by the day, it's almost time for me to start thinking about booking a trip to "the real deal." I could do autumn in Venice quite easily, actually. I could almost see myself sitting in a gondola, sipping a fru-fru coffee drink of real espresso, enjoying the view, contemplating the gondolier's nice tight buttocks as the vaporetto speed by, rocking my little world to and fro.

Even seventy five thousand words could not describe how happy I'd be.

Until next time...

Thursday, May 13, 2004

A Passionate Day

I couldn't sleep last night so, around 5 am I got up and signed on. I have to checkin my code sometime before tomorrow, which actually translates into sometime before Monday. I think I can make my deadline, but I'm feeling that it's going to be a bit tight. I've just been feeling a tad stressed about this checkin for some reason. This round anwyay, it's weighing on me a bit.

So, as I logon, I notice that I've received an email from one of those daily horoscope websites. It's sent me my horoscope for today, which was rather interesting, especially at 5 am. It said I was going to have "a passionate day." (I'm not making this up, I swear.)

A passionate day? As in, "I hate this place with a passion maybe??!!??" That's the closest I'll get to passion anytime soon, unless you count Ted trying to noodle his sorry ass into my jacuzzi (which, I'm fairly certain, actually will never happen. And, even if it did, doesn't count as passion, rather more like "jacuzzi envy" which, unlike passion, is entirely curable.)

Come to think of it, it is raining today and a bit humid. Might make for passionate sleeping, or hardcore cuddling if I had the likes of HIM around, but I'd have to speculate that this is just not to be. It's days like these when I wish I could just go to bed with a good book and push Charlie into sleeping on less than half of my bed (what do you think the odds really are of me pulling any kind of covers away from that pooch?)

I've a passion for something, I just haven't quite figured out what as of yet. Maybe, instead of defining my context as somewhere between a peach and a mango, I should have specified "passion fruit." This would have given me my daily supply of passion without sacrificing any integrity (of sorts.)

A passionate day, huh? I'll believe it when I see it.

(What's this??? There's a cabana boy here to see me? He looks like Trent Reznor and he's got special hot oils for my backrub?? Hmmm. I'll be right there...)

I'll leave you with my favorite quote, "Passion, without conviction, is still passion."

Until next time...

Wednesday, May 12, 2004

Strange New Music

I'm listening to some new music in the office today. It just came over the radio. Hard to describe but I sort of like it. Sounds a little bit like Whiskeytown or possibly an obscure Bruce Springsteen cover song. Definately, I'm thinking early Ryan Adams (Whiskeytown) Also heard Pete Yorn in the car on the way into work today. That odd song that goes like this, "'s a strange condition/a day in prision/knocked me out of my head/and I just don't know...." It's catchy although the prision lyric is a bit jarring. I would like to see Pete Yorn someday, as I've heard he's a very good live performer.

Something someday once reminded me of an old 'Mats tune. Strange thing about the 'Mats, they almost became more popular after they broke up. Another strnage thing about the 'Mats is they were famous for being sloppy and lazy. They struck this rather odd medium, somewhere between horrible playing but heartfelt. It was almost like they were too bad to be good while being too good to be bad at the same time. I suppose it's the songs that we all related to, although you could argue there's something appealing about the semi-punk "I don't play very well, but I'm going to anyway" personae. Still though, on the whole, they weren't all that bad as performers and the songs were really tight. Amazing lyrics, wouldn't you say?

I still have several David Gray albums in my wish list. Don't know how they stayed in there for so long, as I'm surprised I have yet to pick them up or remove them. But, there they sit, I suppose for infinity (or until my wish list expires, whenever that should happen to be.)

Talking Heads is next up on the box. Always liked them. Speaking in Tongues was a favorite album from high school days. Hard to believe that I'm really the old and they've really been broken up for all that long. I always thought it would be a dream ticket: Talking Heads opening up for Steely Dan. Now there's a show I'd go see.

"Once there were parking lots, now it's a peaceful oasis...I miss the honky tonks, dairy queens, and seven-elevens"

I suppose Ken would really hate that (having his DQ replaced by an "oasis") I mean, where would he get his Blizzards and use his coupons for free iced cream?

"You got it."

Until next time...

Tuesday, May 11, 2004

Drunk Shopping in Context

Several folks have written to remind me that I've yet to elaborate upon my chosen context.

I would say that I'm somewhere between "peach" and "mango." Peach is the all familiar, pull one off the tree and eat it, while mango is the exotic, far away, "I bet they eat these in China" variety. I'm somewhat familiar, with a few novel twists and turns. You could also describe me as halfway between a poet and an artist but that's almost redundant. We all grapple with an artist within, just waiting for the proper opportunity to emerge.

Ken has requested that I blog about the my drunk shopping experience so, here it is. Please enjoy it for what it's worth which, I'm certain even on the black market, is not very much.

We met at Baby A's, which is a local hang-out and noted for fanciful 'ritas. It was just Ken and myself. Ted did not show because, as Ken put it, he was "busy loading a flat bed with Pepsi." Ted really needs to meet Bill, a fellow with whom I work, since Bill is frequently seen chugging Pepsi, but that's a blogger for a different day.

So, Baby A's was packed, Ken got us a table, and I had to call him like 4 times on my cell just to find him. I got to playing with my new phone, added Ken as a "Contact" and then asked him for Ted's number. He told me his theory, claiming that Ted will not answer his phone unless a female is calling, which we decided put to test.

I ordered migas which, I must say, were not nearly as good as those from Trudy's. If I can conclude anything from Friday's drinking episode it's that Trudy's makes the best migas in town bar none. But this too, is blogger fodder for another day. The ones at Baby A's weren't bad, just a little too heavy on the onions and not nearly as fluffy and perky as those from Trudy's. It's hard to imagine eggs that could be described as "perky" but they are.

So I had my 'rita and, since I didn't have much to eat (all day) and they were very slow bringing our food out, I got drunk, actually silly, rather quickly. After eating I decided I would aggravate Ken and test the Ted phone answering theory, which I did for the remainder of the evening.

Aren't cell phones really for folks broken down on the highway and people going to happy hour anyway? Who else really needs or uses them? Oh wait, I forgot about job interviews. My bad.

So, getting back to my story, we left Baby A's and I nagged Ken until he drove me over to Target to get groceries and a coffee pot for my Mom (she loves the pot now, thankfully.) The coffee pot subsequently became my mother's day present. I called Ted several times from within Target, in part to test the theory and in part to aggravate Ken, who didn't like me "making a scene." I'm sure the folks shopping at Target on a Friday evening have never seen a girl like me use a cell phone before, Ken. Hey, I'm just all that novel, aren't I? I also picked up Sara's album of re-mixes, which is rather interesting, and almost ran out of gas, which was not. All in all, it's wasn't the most earth shattering Friday but it fared much better than the work week I was enjoying until that point.

The only other tidbit of information I really should share is that Baby A's has some pink elephants painted on the ceiling of their patio area. They are there. Really. I saw them (and I only had one drink, honest.) Really, I did.

They were sort of light, pink, and rather "perky" looking, although that can be taken out of context.

Until next time, this is Carol, the Carol in "Carol's Little World" signing off.

Monday, May 10, 2004

Ack! I'm so Confused

So they have redesigned the website which, in case you did not know, is the host site for Carol's Little World. So now it's safe to say that I'm amazingly confused and feel quite out of sorts. It's quite a big change, for a hardly recognize how or where I'm supposed to post. I'm sure it will be better and easier in the end but, for now anyway, it's really made me feel loopy.

Speaking of feeling loopy, is there some kind of a sniglet for that state of affairs I like to call "web Hell?" You know how you keep clicking and going back and winding up at the wrong page but not quite sure how to get to the web page you really want? I like to refer to this as "web Hell." There must be a sniglet.

I'm certain there's also a sniglet for those little plastic things that keep the price tags on garments and those big white plastic things that make the alarms go off should you happen an attempt at shoplifing. There just must be. I can sense it. If there isn't, there probably should be one. I bet Wynona Ryder knows what they are.

Speaking of all things Wynona, I got my Mom a coffee pot for Mother's Day. I was also going to get her a picture frame for her kitchen, but she wouldn't let me. I'm glad that I picked up the coffee pot on Friday in the evening, as I was able to enjoy my flavorful French Kisses all weekend long. Yum. I'm loving that flavored coffee. And I'm happy that Mom loves it too, although she's rather upset at me for leaving my, ahem, "used" Java pod in the coffee pot after brewing. But, seeing as she can work the pot without her glasses, it's all good.

Speaking of food stuffs, every Monday at work we have the Mangia Pizza Dude come to visit and sell mini-pizzas. He usually leaves about 5 minutes before 12. Today, as I was enjoying my coffee (French Kisses) I looked at the telphone and realized that, hey, it's 11:55. So I grabbed my purse and bolted to get my pizza for the week. As I was walking back in, mini pizza in tow, a fellow behind me ran out and said, "Rats! He left already?" Unknowingly, I got the last pizza for the day. A few other folks from work also happened along, and we had to share the bad news that he had already left for the day. The pizza was rather cold and not very tasty today either, despite the fact that it was the last of the day.

One of the follows who missed the truck commented that, "he supposed to say past noontime, because we told him some folks have conference calls that last until 12:00." I guess it's safe to say the pizza dude wears sneakers. At least, he bolts like he does. Right in the middle, in the midst of all the excitement he just blows off like a breeze into the sunset.

Adios, Mr. Pizza Man. See you next Monday!

Until next time, this is Carol, the Carol in "Carol's Little World" signing off.

Friday, May 07, 2004

Big Words for Mother's Day

Some folks have accused me of using "big words" deliberately. I never thought of myself as somebody who uses "big" or any words for that matter, deliberately. I would say I'm more "pensive" than I am deliberate but, perhaps, that's just my perception. I do know I wish I had a better active vocabulary and envy folks who can write really well.

Speaking of folks who can write really well, I ran into Adam recently. He's an old friend from my younger days. He's now working as a writer in LA and it was kind of interesting to find out what and how he's doing. When we were younger, we used to go sit by the railroad tracks and speculate about stories we could write, formulate plans for getting published, or working in the literary community. I, of course, was not cut out for this path in life (as you can tell, I'm not really a very adept writer.) But Adam, he was charmed. He made it to the other side. With, at least part of his soul intact, he crossed the boundary of his own wild imagination and emerged from the other side, with dreams in tow. I'm so happy for him, as he had quite a troubled start in life, he's talented, and he deserves all his newfound fame and glory. Adam, if you are reading this, you rock, buddy. Go get 'em and I wish you all the best during sweeps week.

This weekend is Mother's day and I've no clue as to what to get Mom. Actually, I have an idea of what I want to get, but I'm not certain as to her reaction. I'm afraid to get Mom something she won't like. She is, afterall, Mom and we only get one of those. I wish I could get her Adam's latest book, but I'll have to pass on that (maybe someday, eh, Adam?)

I'm supposed to go to Happy Hour shortly so this blog will be rather more hurried than usual, but none the less amusing, I suppose. I bet it'll get a lot better AFTER happy hour, but you'll just have to wait and see about that. After is a small word, isn't it?

Until next time, this is Carol, the Carol in "Carol's Little World" signing off.

Thursday, May 06, 2004

It's a Bird, It's a Plane, No, It's SUPERBITCH!

I don't know why I've been so grumpy lately but it's getting worse by the second. Actually, I do but I'm not telling.

I feel so dis-interested in everything that's going on, despite the fact that I've formulated a top secret plan for world domination. At least one that will get me my own little private tropical island. I think that's part of my superbitchy streak, at least it's a significant contributing factor: the performance of the stock market as we know it. It's back to the old euphoric days and I feel a bit like I'm along for Mr. Toad's Wild Ride.

I had a conversation the other day and I happened to use or hear the words "serious mental thought" which really sparked me to think about what that means. I suppose it's safe to say that serious mental thought is the state of mind when you are thinking about something but not actually doing it. I read an interview with a musician who was imprisioned but emerged years later still able to play. He spoke of practicing, of playing, of making music "in his head" and how it wasn't all that different from "with his hands." One could claim that "serious mental thought" is actually the opposite of "lip service." In one case, you are thinking about something without paying it mind or speaking of it while, in the other, you are talking up a storm but not really mentally attending to the details. I've been doing a lot of both lately, not surprisingly, on very divergent topics. It's kind of like the old joke "may I please be escused, my brain is full?"

In a separate but equally significant conversation, I garnered some insight into contextual meaning. It's been said that we (humans) are capable of defining things contextually. That is to say, for example, you could define "love" as being a state somewhat stronger than "fondness" but not quite as severe as "stalking" perhaps. It's the notion that you could if you were so inclined, define green as "the color betwix yellow and blue" without really assigning semantic meaning to the endpoints (in this example, you don't have to define green or blue, just use them as reference points to assign meaning to green.)

As humans, I would speculate that we strive for semantic meaning but settle for contextual meaning when we can't get the good stuff. For example, if somebody were to speak a word you did not understand you might approach a dictionary or ask directly the meaning. If the blunt approach failed, you might then fall back upon the old "can you use it in a sentence" type of approach. The dictionary is the purely semantic, while the "hum a few bars" is really the contextual mechanism for gathering meaning.

So what this leads me to is my question for the day. Given the assumption that you can define things contextually, how do you define yourself?

Where do you start and you end? What are your contextual boundaries? If green is between yellow and blue, what are you between?

Interesting contemplation, wouldn't you agree? Perhaps, one day soon, when I have released myself from my superbitch state of mind, I will divulge my context.

Until next time, this is Carol, the Carol in "Carol's Little World" signing off.

Wednesday, May 05, 2004

Going Postal

Did you ever notice how postal employees never seem to actually go postal? I keep waiting for them to rename it something more appropriate like "going IBM." It's a bit harder to say but much more appropriate, don't you think? (And probably much more likely too.) And, as you know, firefighters never actually are in firefighting mode. It's just a monkier they use to avoid the whole civil service thing. Apparantly, I'm spending today celebrating life's oddities.

I really must do something about my recent disheveled appearance. I don't know why but, lately anyway, I just don't feel like dressing well. A few folks I've run into today (well, not acutally "run" into more like "crossed paths with") are somewhat dressier than normal and, here I sit, with an old T-shirt, dirty jeans, and dusty sneakers. I know you don't call them sneakers, but rather "tennis shoes" or something more specific, more expensive sounding. I don't give a crap, I'll call them sneakers if I want to, ok? Please, I'm in a bad enough tiff as it is, without having to deal with "nomenclature malfunctions," right?

Ah, what's this? A sudden breath of sunshine on my horizon. They are now playing the new song by Norah Jones. God, I love her voice. It's so calming and relaxing. I can almost feel the weight of the world sliding off my shoulders and onto the floor (running past my, um, er, "tennis shoes." There I said it.) "It's the only way to bring me back to you/to you" I just realized it's a love song. I usually HATE love songs. "Get a divorce!" or "Dump her like a ton of bricks," I would say. But, no, not this time. I'm even loving the love songs. Gawd, must be my allergies but, somehow, my ears just aren't working it like they used to.

Oddly enough, they have chosen to follow this song with Live's acoustic version of Lightening Crashes which I find rather tribal yet somewhat mesmerizing. It's an interesting song, although not subdued or soft, like Norah. Odd to hear a popular song mention the word "placenta" but, at least, they didn't try to rhyme it with "magenta." Now that would have made me go, um, er, IBM. Maybe I'll write my own lyric:

"Never again. Not IBM. Screw you, they ate Tivoli too. Fa la la la laaaah"

Meet the Beemers. There's another episode for our TV program. And you can quote me on it too.

Until next time, this is Carol, the Carol in "Carol's Little World" signing off.

Tuesday, May 04, 2004

In Other News

Somebody has written to request that I speak more often about their favorite topic: SEX. So SEX, this is my SEX blog about SEX. It seems you can't get enough SEX of me to be able to write SEX to me and just SEX chat, no, you have to SEX write to me and request that I SEX talk about SEX. I suppose it's only SEX fair, since there's not much better to SEX talk about. I mean, SEX what I am supposed to SEX talk about? The weather? It's SEXy sunny and mild today with highs in the SEXy 80's. That's so SEX boring that, well, you get the SEX idea. SEX is just a matter of opinion, I suppose as it's all really SEX about SEX.

Are you happy now? Was that enough about SEX for you? Or do you want more? I'm tired. Pass me a cigarette and let me take a nap, will you?

Until next time, this is Carol, the Carol in "Carol's Little World" signing off.
Senate Smenate, I Know What You Did Last Winter

Today's top story on is headlined, "Senate Panels to Investigate Iraq Abuse Allegations." Oh what fun I'm going to have with this little gem.

Let's see if I have this straight. A bunch of senators, ahem, "esteemed" elected officials (these are the same folks who brought us Watergate, the great bouncing check scandal, Mr. Kennedy in charge of the "ethics" committee, the $200 haircuts, $900 toilet seats, etc.) are now going to sit back and pass judgement upon a bunch of soldiers guarding a prision filled to the brim with prisions who lack any jurisdiction whatsoever in our criminal justice system. It's so comical I hardly know where to begin. We invaded the wrong country, overthrew a (granted) tyrinacal dictator, captured thousands of "insurgients" who are now being held in prisions without the benefit of a trial, by soldiers armed with the latest in high-tech gadgetry. And, if this weren't enough, we're now going to get the Senate involved because, afterall, we know how righteous and upright they all are.

Oh yeah, I can almost smell them coming and they are just going swoop down, step into Iraq and fix all that's wrong in the world because, heck, that's just the kind of folks they are. It's like a bunch of bafoons running a petting zoo filled with alligators and somebody's complaining that the waters a tad too cool for an afternoon swim. It all reminds me a bit too much of the Beverly Hillbillies, it even has the fight over the oil rights. Only thing missing is maybe one of Ted's ceiling dancers. Oh, and it'd be really great if we could throw in a bit of Fidel for good measure. Maybe Fidel can, in the movie version, barter with human suffragettes who all look like Cindy Crawford or something (while Ted hides in the trunk of the Caddy with fins drooling over them and offering them choice viewing rights in front of his shorted out large screened TV.)

I hate to be the one to tell the Senators that war is ugly. I hate to be the one to tell the great government how they should stop spending my hard-earned tax dollars invading the wrong country and go after that damned Usama Bin Butthead. I hate to be the one to tell them that I really don't give a rat's behind about what our soldiers are doing in prision or about how we might "hurt Arab sentiment" (frankly, I hope all Arabs hate and fear me.) I enjoy being one to tell them that I am, in fact, registered to vote and that is the only possible glimmer of hope in this entire situation (I can still vote.)

In other news, Ken tells me that Ted is, in fact, MIA. Maybe he ran off, joined corporate America, and is secretly cornering the vending machine market in Iraq while working a side gig for Haliburton and driving a truck? Stranger things have happened. But, with my luck, it's safe to say Ted's probably safe and sound and way too close for comfort. Hey, Ted, if you are reading this, go punch an insurgient. I hear it's fun.

Until next time, this is Carol, the Carol in "Carol's Little World" signing off.