Thursday, September 07, 2006

HARDWARE HI-TOPS AND THE UNFORGETTABLE SCENT

All summer I've harped on Noodles to update her blog more frequently and by now she's lapped me several times with stories of her exotic vacations and wacky pregnancy anecdotes. I feel ashamed that I haven't kept up. Here's what's been going on lately, for what it's worth:

- Today we had a conversation about how it's tough living in a town with an apostrophe in its name, or even on a street with an apostrophe in its name. Many online forms will not permit apostrophes but to omit them simply feels inaccurate and sometimes grammatically incorrect.

- The toilet at my house doesn't work. All of the sudden I've been transported back to Victorian times. If I've got to go, I call up one of my friends in the neighborhood and hike on over to plop one down. It's humiliating and probably an inconvenience to more than just me. Our super half-heartedly applied his own dainty plunger to the mess only to conclude that we must have put something down there that we shouldn't have. Okay, he caught it. We deliberately sabotaged our toilet. We thought: "wouldn't it be a great idea if we broke our toilet so we had to use the neighbors' ?" It was a brilliant plan, we thought, but he caught on. At our urgings, he begrudgingly said he would call the plumber, but we've yet to see any butt cracks except for our own--hovering over other peoples' toilets. And this is a particularly sensitive issue for me. What bad luck.

- I've been trying my hand at making things that move and have been more or less successful. Modest goals mean modest rewards, but ever since I got that email from Stephanie Carlson circa 2004 about my bra and pantyline, modesty has been something I'm working on. In any case, here are the things that move that I've made:
The green ball drum extravaganza (with sound!)
Some guy walking

- I have been following the Steve Irwin story very closely, in particular the movement (or lack of movement) of the alleged video depicting his actual death. A colleague and I briefly back and forthed about whether it was something people should want to watch. He said he certainly would not, whereas I expressed an initial curiosity. Since then, I think I've decided I wouldn't particularly care to see a man's heart being pierced by a stringray's barb and that man's subsequent expiration, but what I do find fascinating is the fact that in century 21, not only do we hear about people's deaths almost instantaneously, but they are also often accompanied by pretty comprehensive media (photos, video, etc.) This fascination was taken to a new level when I google videoed the subject of Steve Irwin's death to find that the top two videos claimed to be the aforementioned death footage. The top video begins with a lengthy title marking the video as police property and what follows is some footage of a stingray flubbing around and then a couple of frames of Steve Irwin on the ground (obviously taken from an entirely unrelated program). So the fact that people knew that actual death footage existed led to other people fabricating said footage and putting it up online. Whoa. The second video is a gag that begins with a lengthy title that informs the viewer that they will have to observe the footage very carefully in order to catch the few frames of Irwin's last moments. After the title goes on for way too long, building anticipation, it quickly flashes to a scary face a la The Ring and closes with a title that asks what kind of sickos would want to watch the death video anyway. Masterful. It's kind of similar to that one video of the car commercial that viewers were told had a few frames of a ghostly image in it, so that they'd lean in really close, and then an enormous image (accompanied by a scream) pops out from the side. It's the same gimmick, although this one is based on an historical event and claims affiliation with footage of the event that's said to exist. Wild.

- In other news, the weather seems to have turned on a dime, which makes me ever so happy. Soon people will no longer be able to ridicule me for the unseasonable-ness of my sweater vests, which I wore through the summer. Sometimes I wish I could grow to enormous heights and skip up the lines of latitude like a hopscotch grid and spend more time much farther up north. Maybe next year.

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