Is My Apartment Surrounded by An Electro-Magnetic Field?   


I must speak quickly. Not because I am running late. Not because I am a super-spy transmitting important government secrets in code to my blog--but because my computer appears to be busted. After a long rest it will boot up quickly. In ten minutes, it becomes sluggish. If fifteen, it shuts off. I've been getting a "Previous Fan Failure" error on boot up. (I assume the fan has stopped working, and the PC shuts down before it overheats? Anyone have any insight here?)


So sadly, just a quick post today. I did manage to get the Monday Morning Quiz (conceived and written by The Pink Haired Girl herself) up before the last melt-down. You can take it here.


I'm moving in two days, so between that and this computer issue, I may be out for a while. Stay tuned!

Posted by Sarcasmo on Monday, June 30, 2003
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Know What Sucks About Moving?   


I mean aside from the packing and the cleaning and the organizing and the lifting.


Not being able to break out all the cool stuff your friends gave you at your most excellent joint birthday bash (now everyone wish a happy birthday to Amy and Jill). There was dancing and Twister and home made cake and....games games games. Am I still in sugar shock? You bet I am.*


How can I unpack all my wonderful toys and things when I know I just have to pack them away again in a day or two?


Sigh.


I am tempted, however, in this heat, to break out the Snoopy SnoCone Machine.


That's right. I said Snoopy Sno Cone Machine.


I can hear Snoopy call to me.


*Note: When faced with a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans...do not, I repeat, DO NOT Eat the Vomit flavored ones. I know it sounds obvious...but you'll be surprisingly tempted. RESIST THIS TEMPTATION. Also, skip the Bogger flavored ones too. Seriously.

Posted by Sarcasmo on Friday, June 27, 2003
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Get Your Shouts Out!   


Why not catch up on your back correspondence on this fine Friday. You know the kind I mean; the unreturned phone calls, the long overdue emails, the cards you put in the envelopes and never got stamps for, the ransom letter that's gathering dust...

Alas, now it's been so long in coming, an ordinary phone call or email won't do. Therefore, as a service to you I've scoured the web for these fine alternatives:


(Lucky for you all, Pee Mail no longer seems to be in operation.)

Can't think of anyone to send them to? (Boo hoo. Perhaps less time on the computer and more time out making friends?) You can always pile them in my Inbox. Sarcasmo At Sarcasmoscorner.com

Posted by Sarcasmo on Thursday, June 26, 2003
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How Cool Is This?   


Radio Lovers. I've already listened to Batman Mystery Theater, and I am currently listening to Boris Karloff talk about Shakespeare's Home Town. This pleases me immensely. - by way of I Am Bored

Posted by Sarcasmo on Thursday, June 26, 2003
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We Take This Time   


to bring you the following public service announcement:

Do not set your nifty atomic alarm clock in the dark, or you might inadverntantly re-set your region button, making your clock assume you have moved from the east coast to the west coast and re-setting the time accordingly. Failure to heed these instructions may lead to the following:



This has been a public service announcement, sponsored by My Day Doesn't Look Promising So Far

Posted by Sarcasmo on Thursday, June 26, 2003
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Dear Universe   


Please turn off the excessive heat. I hate getting out of the shower and feeling like I need to get right back in.

On the other hand, I do like the frequent napping.

That is all.

Posted by Sarcasmo on Wednesday, June 25, 2003
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How Is It I Have No Time for Fashion   


but can spend hours playing with Internet dress-up dolls? The world may never know.

Posted by Sarcasmo on Wednesday, June 25, 2003
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"I'm Your Rubber Peacock Angelic Whore" 


Here is today's playlist at my desk, specifically designed to get me through my day:

Hmm--retro pop culture, aliens, and violence. No wonder they keep their distance.

Also, I am cleary overdue for a vacation.

*From Sweet Head by David Bowie

Posted by Sarcasmo on Tuesday, June 24, 2003
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Eek!   


ACK!!! Pop Culture Boy and I have been idled along this month, thinking we had plenty of time to take care of pre-moving prepartions, especially since our movers will be doing the actual packing. We came to the horrible realization today that we are moving next week (!!!) and the apartment is in no fit state to be packed by anyone, let alone strangers, and that there are plenty of other moving things (change of address form, set up cable, etc) still in store. We're in such a state of disarray all I can think to do is ignore it all until the last minute and post some fun stuff here instead. I'll just take care of everything in a final blast of panic when the day comes.

Or panic.

Or cry.

But that is later. For now, superfluous silliness!

Posted by Sarcasmo on Monday, June 23, 2003
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Weekend!   


Friday seemed to come all at once very fast and much too slow this week. I had some actual writing I wanted to do, but lately my schedule has been so hectic (fun, silly, zany hectic, but hectic all the same), but by the time I get home it's all I can do to throw in a load of laundry and slack off an hour or two before bed.

Random Friday goofiness:

Posted by Sarcasmo on Friday, June 20, 2003
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Pop Quiz, Hotshot   


You Must Choose.

What will you do?

-Via B3ta.

Posted by Sarcasmo on Thursday, June 19, 2003
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Cookie Cookie Cookie Starts With C   


I finally get it.


Recall how when we were younger and less forgiving, we knew everything about the world and what was cool? Remember how mortified we would become if our parents would sing along to the radio (either in front of our peers or just in front of us), invariably getting some of the words wrong? Being a good, law-abiding teenagers, we would naturally roll our eyes, sigh loudly, and (if feeling particularly plucky/snarky/agressive that day) correct them.


What fools we were. They were really on to something wonderful. Maybe it's some magical plateau you reach at a certain age--but I finally understand the appeal of singing your own sound-alike words to songs. It's fun, like moulding a little piece of the universe in your own image (and hey, for parents there's the added bonus of irritating your smart alek, know-it-all kids).


Today I was listening to Pizzicato Five's If I Were A Groupie. The actual words to the chorus are:
If I were a groupie

If I were a you girl

If I were a groupie

If I were a you girl

If I were a grouuuuupieeeeeeeeeee



It's a catchy, fun song. However, in my infinite wisdom (and boredom), I decided the new lyrics should be:
If I were a cookie

If I were a Yugo

If I were a cookie

If I were a Yugo

If I were a cooooookiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee


I'm making up my own words to everything now on. Take that, corporate music machine! You too, youth culture! And yes, even you, fond childhood tv memories! I'll get you all muscially in the end!


Or maybe I just need a sugar fix. Take over the world musically or have a cookie? Decisions, decisions....

Posted by Sarcasmo on Thursday, June 19, 2003
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Ok, Who Cursed My House?   


First Pop Culture Boy's computer ups and dies without warning. Then last night my PDA refused to turn on after I put in fresh batteries. (I was able to get it back to running after 2 resets). And now my cd burner refuses to work, shutting down every time I try to create a project.

A warning to all...don't bring your tech over here.

This has been a public service announcement.

Posted by Sarcasmo on Wednesday, June 18, 2003
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Joy!   


Now that I have tickets safely in hand, as a public service to all people in the Philly area I would like to announce that Eddie Izzard will be bringing his Sexie tour to the Merriam Theatre Nov 4-8th. Tickets are on sale now.

I would also like to sing you the following song:
*ahem*
I have Eddie Izzard tickets
I have Eddie Izzard tickets
I have Eddie Izzard tickets
I have Eddie Izzard tickets!!!!!
Feel free to sing along by repeating the lyrics (ad infinitum) in a "Nyah Nyah Nyah Nyah Nyahhh Nyahh" tone, while doing the Cabbage Patch.

*(Please note that although any mocking dance-type movement can be substituted for the cabbage patch, do not skip the dancing entirely. It is an essential part of the song. You don't have to have the rhythm, just the attitude.)

Posted by Sarcasmo on Tuesday, June 17, 2003
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I Have Muscles*!   


I went to my first yoga class in a very long time last night, and quite a few of my muscles woke up from their slumber while we were posing to shake and groan as if to say "Oi! Who do you think ye are? Abandon us all these years then without any warning expect us to work?" I was expecting bunched up, strained muscle revenge today, but I am actually feeling quite good. I'm looking very forward to going back on Thursday.


Besides, I must admit, I am all about any exercise class that ends with naptime. Yay, naps!


(Updated): Muscles just woke up (darn you, coffee!). Ooooh.....owwwwwwww!


*Now, being snarky folks you might be thinking "Of course she has muscles, or else she'd fall over into a heap on the floor!" A logical conclusion, but a wrong one. My robotic cyborg skeleton keeps me upright at all times, muscles not withstanding. Hmmm...perhaps I've said too much....

Posted by Sarcasmo on Tuesday, June 17, 2003
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Monday Again   


It has been a long weekend of final decisions, lovely surprises, cool prezzies (at this rate, it seems I'll be stretching my birthday celebration to last all month. Can I get a woo-hoo!?), good food, good friends, and family fun. I am delightfully exhausted. Hence most of these amusements are passive rather than active:

You pushed it, didn't you? See. That's why I love you guys.

Posted by Sarcasmo on Monday, June 16, 2003
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Pass the Milk   


I am disturbed. Amused, but disturbed.

Meet one Mad Cow. (Requires sound, not safe for work unless you are wearing headphones).

Thanks to Nobi for sending this my way.

Posted by Sarcasmo on Friday, June 13, 2003
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Kittens!   


Meet Mittens and Snowdrop.

I really feel for Mittens. Sometimes I have the same problem.

Found on Ordinary Language.

Posted by Sarcasmo on Thursday, June 12, 2003
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Intriguing....In A Follow the Leader Kind-of-Way   


Learing to Love You More assigns web-surfers various fun, silly and creative projects, and then invites them to post their successes. Some interesting assignments include:

Be sure to "View Reports" on these assignments to see what the world has wrought. I'm considering trying one or two of these myself.
- Via B3ta.com

Posted by Sarcasmo on Wednesday, June 11, 2003
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Sweet Wounded Jesus!   


If you get a chance, go see Bat Boy, The Musical (but leave your kids at home). You won't be disappointed.

If you live in the Philly area, you can catch it at the Adrienne until the 15th. Even Pop Culture Boy had a good time, and he hates musicals and Bat Boy alike.

Anyone who isn't at least a little in love with Bat Boy by the end of the show has no soul. Hold me, Bat Boy. Love me, Bat Boy.

Posted by Sarcasmo on Wednesday, June 11, 2003
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*WHINE* Update   


Thanks to the Universe, the fine folks at Nyquil, and Pop Culture Boy's TLC, I am feeling much better. Thanks to everyone who asked. :)

Posted by Sarcasmo on Tuesday, June 10, 2003
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A Little Mood Music   


Tell BeSonic how you feel, and it will provide the soundtrack.

Posted by Sarcasmo on Tuesday, June 10, 2003
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*WHINE*   


Dear Universe,


As you are no doubt aware, I am exhausted, and quickly losing a battle against the brain-draining cold/flu things going around my office. It is making me cranky, coughy, lethargic, and leaving me in a weird mental/emotional state.


Please turn the flu off, as I am turning 30 tomorrow, and would rather not celebrate it sick in bed or by having a nervous breakdown.


Thank you,

Sarcasmo

Posted by Sarcasmo on Monday, June 09, 2003
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Monday, So Tired   


Long hectic weekend. Forgot to do that sleep thing they say is so important.....



Alas...the coffee hasn't kicked in yet. I can surf no more....

Posted by Sarcasmo on Monday, June 09, 2003
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Knock, Knock   


There's a new Get Your War On

Posted by Sarcasmo on Friday, June 06, 2003
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Friiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiday!   


Silly stuff to kick off your weekend:



It's Friday. Wheeeeeeeeeee!

Posted by Sarcasmo on Friday, June 06, 2003
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Why is This Not in Stores Yet?   


Check out Christian Finnegan's idea for a PS2 game, HISTORIKAL KOMBAT.

I would so play this game. And completely kick your butt too.

BRING IT ON!

Posted by Sarcasmo on Thursday, June 05, 2003
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I Don't Care What Pop Culture Boy Says   


Queensryche's Operation: mindcrime album still really rocks.


Why yes, I did do some CD shopping after having a few drinks and watching the beginning of VH1's 25 Greatest Power Ballads special. Why do you ask?

Posted by Sarcasmo on Wednesday, June 04, 2003
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Sadistic Hawk and Cunning Villany   


I
n the 6th grade I was assigned to Mrs. D's class. (I remember Mrs. D as an austere, grey-haired woman who wore long skirts every day, and blouses buttoned all the way up to the neck; hardest of the 6th grade teachers, bane of students who lived in awesome fear of her cold eyes and sharp tongue. Chances are, she was a bit younger and softer than that. But memory is harsh mistress. For purposes of this narrative, she was a hardened old woman who hated youth, exuberance, and any changes to social morality that took place after 1859.) As fate would have it, Mrs. D had taught my father 20 years before...and she loved him. Completely adored him. Not only did she remember him after two decades, but once she confirmed that I was indeed his daughter, she went on and on in front of the class about how wonderful he was; the perfect student, a gentleman, editor of the 6th grade newsletter. It was made clear on day one that great things were expected from me. In fact, she made me editor of the 6th grade newsletter strictly based on the legacy. (I can't begin to tell you what this did to my efforts to shake the dreaded "Teacher's Pet" moniker that dogged me my whole young life.)


Wallflower that I was, I did not have grade school boyfriends. Boy friends, yes. Boyfriends, no. This did not, however, discourage me from developing crushes my male classmates with some regularity. Kyle was one such classmate. He was smart, funny, and attractive (he grew up to be a successful local artist (edit: link added). My high school crush grew up to be a professional writer and writing teacher. Remember men--my developing a crush on you could be good for your future career!) At that age, the other girls in my class were already developing physically--shiny hair, budding bosoms, good fashion sense and sparkling personalities. Mousy, bookish, late-bloomer me was certainly not going to get his attention by conventional means. So I did what any shy young girl who read too many books and watched too much TV would do:


I wrote him a secret admirer note.


I don't remember what the note said (something insipid and full of 6th grade poetics, I'm sure), but I do know I spent quite some time writing it. I wrote it alone in my bedroom, in absolute secret. I told no one; not my best friend, not my sisters, not my stuffed animals. I was convinced they would give me away, laugh at me, or destroy my nerve by trying to talk me out of it. So it was with nervous stomach and sweaty palms that I surreptitiously finagled the creased square of paper into his binder the next day.


I don't think I ever really expected to sweep him off his feet. I don't really know what I was expecting. Or even wanted. I know I was prepared for laughter, rejection, indifference. What I was decidedly not prepared for was the publicity.


Apparently befuddled by the note, my crush showed it to his friend Rob (who looked uncannily like the William Katt from the once popular Greatest American Hero), who took it upon himself to play detective. It was with great confidence and aplomb that he told me all about his plan to discover the secret admirer as he asked for a sample of my handwriting. It was with secret delight that I wrote in his notebook, carefully slanting my letters the wrong way. I easily eluded his grasp.


The news was soon all over the class, if not the playground. I was glad I hadn't told anyone. I continued writing the notes, smiling secretly inside every time people would try and guess who it could be. I became brazen, even going to the guys "base camp" under the innocent guise of offering my assistance, while slipping the note into Kyle's book or coat pocket. (Sad, really, that it was so easy. I was that low beneath their girl radar.)


I got a tremendous thrill from causing so much excitement from behind the scenes. I was a secret agent, a femme fatale. I had the attention of the entire sixth grade neatly folded in my pocket, and I liked it. Soon my interest in the attention and subterfuge overshadowed my interest in Kyle. I kept writing the notes even after the crush faded away (a matter of days. Oh, the fickleness of youth).


It is only now (how many years later? 14? 15?) that I realize how selfish I was. It never occurred to me that Kyle might not have been enjoying the attention as much as I was. There he was, center of the storm, his private belongings invaded...it makes what happens next less of a surprise.


The lunch bell rang one day, and Mrs. D had the class line up at the door per usual. Instead of letting us go, however, she walked up and down like a drill sergeant, that day's note clutched accusingly in her hand. She demanded the culprit and/or her (or his) accomplice step forward. You know the speech: Someone must know something, I'll keep the whole class until someone confesses, and if you don't confess now, I'll keep everyone after school, too.,etc., etc. What else could I do? I took a deep breath, and stepped forward.


Mrs. D was truly aghast. She read me the riot act in front of everyone while I stared at my shoes. The long and short of it (at least the part of it I remember) is that I was hussy. It was improper for young ladies to chase boys, so forth and so on. Then she did something I couldn't believe. She told me that my father would be tremendously disappointed in me. That he would never have dated a girl who chased after him. Her disgust was palpable. When I looked up at her, her eyes were cold and hard. I was a quivering mass of nerves, but I'd like to think my eyes were the same. Who did she think she was? She didn't know my father, or what he thought. How could she say that? (And what if she was right?)


I managed not to cry in front of my classmates; it was mostly anger that kept the tears at bay. That, and the fact that I knew something Mrs. D didn't. Growing up, when I would ask my father how he and my mother started dating, he would say "She chased me till I caught her." I really wanted to spit the fact in her face. In many ways, I wish I had.


I remember very little of the resulting backlash--if there was any. I expect a new scandal quickly took its place. My friends were supportive, if not a little hurt that I hadn't confided in them. Rob grudgingly admitted to being impressed at my eluding his detective skills. I remember very specifically returning early for the afternoon bell (I lived close enough to school that I was permitted to go home for the lunch hour). I ran into one of the school yard moms (involved stay-at-home parents who helped out at school). I had always considered her to be loud, bossy, pushy and mean. I certainly never considered us to be on friendly terms. But she approached me and said that she had heard what happened (who hadn't), and although what I had done wasn't right, what Mrs. D had done to me in front of everyone had been worse. She touched my arm, and the next thing I knew I was leaning into her, sobbing. It is amazing, the power of an unexpected kindness.


I really don't remember if Kyle and I ever spoke about it after the fact. I imagine if we did it was the traditional "friends" speech, with both of us looking awkwardly and uncomfortably at anything but each other. The next strong memory I have of him is being at his 8th grade graduation swimming party--so either he forgave me by then, or his Mom made him invite the entire class.


I hope he's been chased by lots of girls since then. And that he's caught on or two.


*Title and story inspired by a comment on my Sadie Hawkins Day mini-rant on The Muted Drum

Posted by Sarcasmo on Wednesday, June 04, 2003
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The Most Beautiful Navigation Interface I've Ever Seen   


xiiin.

Not really sure what was happening, but man did it look good.

Via Everlasting blort

Posted by Sarcasmo on Wednesday, June 04, 2003
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To Local Folks   


Pop Culture's Boy's Band will be playing this Thursday at 7PM and this Sat. at 9PM. Send me an email for details.

This is a newer new band--I think the last one broke-up, although I'm not entirely sure. I know some members of the old band were around spying on the new band's practice the other day (oh, the drama!)I haven't seen this particular band at all, so I don't know if they are any good. But if you don't come for the music, you can always come for the possibility of a bluegrass rumble!

Posted by Sarcasmo on Tuesday, June 03, 2003
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Rampant Consumerism   


Pardon me as I recover from shopper stimulation overload. Pop Culture Boy and I went to look at goodies for the new apartment this weekend. Yesterday's travels took us to our local Wal-Mart, which both fascinated and frightened me. So many non-related products under one roof...it was like the land of Shopping for Dummies. In the end all I left with was a fountain Coke from the McDonald's restaurant inside the store and a splitting headache. Something about strip-mall megalomarts upsets my city gal sensibilities. I like my stores broken down into smaller, more readily navigated shops where I never need fear finding deli meats when looking for linens.


Today, however, I gained a new respect for the super store concept...we went to IKEA. Ah, IKEA, miles of shelving and pre-fab rooms, funky textiles and wood veneers. Being there brought me a joy I hadn't expected. (I think it may have been the unfamiliar joy of shopping. Unprecedented!)


I would like to live in Ikea; spending each day in a differently furnished, wall-less room, mix-and-matching chairs and tables, playing in the enchanted forest, and never growing hungry thanks to the cafe on every floor.


Of course, I may be cursing these same Swedes in a month's time, when PCB and I finally free the furniture from flat-pack storage and have to assemble it.


Time to give my wallet a break and break out the Monday fun stuff. Here ya go:



Sadly, there is no play time for me. I have jury duty today. Can't decide if that's a better or worse way to start the week than at the office.

Posted by Sarcasmo on Sunday, June 01, 2003
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