idiots!

jenny mccarthy is an idiot.

first of all, she’s a lame-ass excuse for an ‘actress,’ but i can often forgive that for the sake of our delicious american pop culture. the real reason she sucks is that she’s a (minor) celebrity fueling the anti-vaccination movement.

i’ve been pretty much PRO-vaccination my whole life. i tend to trust science, and doctors, even though scientists and doctors are not Gods and are quite fallible. i don’t think science threatens our morality or religious faith, unless your morality and faith are on shaky ground already. i’m most certainly not a conspiracy theorist (though it is tempting), not because i believe in the inherent good of our government or secret societies or something, but more because i think any large group of people, particularly those involved in government, wouldn’t be able to conspire past the tips of their noses for very long.

er, anyway, so here we have vaccinations, science-recommended, government-supported. statistically, they keep kids from dying or suffering from a host of illnesses. who doesn’t want to prevent illness if it’s possible? well, the anti-vax folks. there are numerous reasons why they believe what they believe, but the latest movement is that vaccinations cause autism in kids.

now, exactly why would the government want children to be autistic?

i feel bad for the parents of autistic children. i feel bad for the parents of any child who will have difficulty in life because of a difference in their brain that society can’t quite deal with. there’s a lot of scary things that make me not want to ever be a parent. a lot of parents find it difficult to deal with. a lot of parents find courage and strength and do the best they can. that’s pretty cool, when you think about it. i think it says a lot about the good in modern mankind.

so back to the locus of my wrath. there is no science, no study (let alone plural) to uphold the idea that vaccinations cause autism. there are plenty of anecdotes, and angry parents, who can’t accept an unlucky fate for their child, but no facts to support stopping vaccinations. there are actually studies to show that these selfish, misguided people, egged on by jenny mccarthy, are hurting OTHER children. that because they will get whooping cough, they will expose other children, who, even though they are vaccinated, still have a small chance of contracting whooping cough (or measles, etc.). and these are childhood diseases that can be fatal.

so because anti-vax parents are ignorant, they have made the choice for other families that another child might die of a COMPLETELY PREVENTABLE DISEASE.

sure, some people say ‘gee, i got whooping cough when i was a kid and i survived.‘ the kids who don’t survive it aren’t around to tell us about it.

purty cakes!

well, the Robots managed to surprise me on the day before my birthday... and the cake they got was classic. i won’t go into details but i will let the pictures speak for themselves.

I KNEW IT! but it still doesn’t make me feel less angry.

news today:

Bad drivers? Blame their genes
Published October 29, 2009

WASHINGTON (Reuters) - No need to curse that bad driver weaving in and out of the lane in front of you -- he cannot help it, U.S. researchers reported on Wednesday.

They found that people with a particular gene variant performed more than 20 percent worse on a driving test than people with a different DNA sequence.

The study may explain why there are so many bad drivers out there -- about 30 percent of Americans have the variant, the team at the University of California Irvine found.

"These people make more errors from the get-go, and they forget more of what they learned after time away," Dr. Steven Cramer, who led the study published in the journal Cerebral Cortex, said in a statement.

Cramer and his team tested 29 people -- 22 without the gene variant and seven who had it -- asking them to drive 15 laps on a simulator and then repeat the task a week later.

To their surprise, they found that those with the mutant gene did worse, consistently.

The gene controls a protein called brain-derived neurotrophic factor, which affects memory.

The team was not really looking for insights into driving but chose the driving test because it uses common skills.

"I'd be curious to know the genetics of people who get into car crashes," Cramer said. "I wonder if the accident rate is higher for drivers with the variant."

girls just wanna have noms

Pants has nominated November be changed to Nomvember in honour of the holiday, and i second the motion!

and you thought punctuation wasn’t important

there is a cold war waging on the interwebs, between the grammatically precise and the laissez-faire conversationalists. the precise long to see the honour of English grammar preserved everywhere, from formal business pages to juvenile YouTube comment insults (it’s “You’re a gaywad,” not “Your a gaywad.”). the conversationalists counter this with the arguments of “u no wat i ment” and “ur gay.”

and generally, i fall between the two extremes. i enjoy, nay, cherish grammar in all its delicious nonsensical contradictions. but i do think some slack might be let out to comprehensible, if not completely correct, writings. if i understand the object of the statement, is it so necessary the sentence not end with a preposition?

mind you, this does not exclude formal writing, including formal e-mails, from the laws of English. it just keeps me from freaking out in my special obsessive-compulsive way over grammar. i will dissect everything, from adverts to captions, if i feel compelled, tearing apart any syntax error with glee, particularly if i already have a bias against the author. yes, i have been known to knit-pick a song or two.

i’m also a firm believer of knowing the rules before you break them. i’m much more likely to avoid rolling my eyes internally when an afficiando of grammar breaks a rule. any poet worth his or her salt will tell you that it is the fine structure of English grammar and punctuation that makes it so delightful and powerful to write with poor grammar and punctuation.

as such, it delights me that a single period sent crashing the internet for an entire country.

why can’t we be friends?

there’s been a bit of research, perhaps you’ve heard tell, on how having overweight friends can actually make oneself overweight. if i understand correctly, the idea is that seeing heavy people makes you tend to think it’s ok to put on a few pounds.

now there is a study saying thin friends make you fat.

participants had a ‘movie night’ with a researcher; either the researcher showed up as her lil’ ol’ self (barely breaking 100 lbs.), or she wore a fat suit. when she wore the fat suit, participants ate considerably less than she did. when she was thin, they ate less than the researcher but more than the fat suit groups.

the theory is people think “well, if she’s thin and can eat that much, so can i.”

so we can’t have fat friends, and now we can’t have thin friends.

good thing i’m anti-social.

some random stuff

i was really freaked out yesterday, as i flipped stations on the tele, to see a Barbie commercial (for a product line called Barbie Girl) with a little song that OBVIOUSLY contained an as-legally-close-as-possible riff imitating “Barbie Girl” by Aqua — or is Mattel licensing the song now? after all its lawsuitin’ and fuss-makin’?

i think i’m going to puke.

in other news, i finished crocheting a robot bib for a co-worker’s new baby. crappy cell phone pictures, but you get the idea.

i’ve got a bike, you can ride it if you like

you can’t, however, see it in this picture of bikeyfuntymes on Labor Day. from left, Pants, BoyKunk, and Kunk.

a lovely afternoon of biking trails from EFC metro to Shirlington and back, stopping for a mini-picnic on the way. hoorah!

chapter infinity: talented and broke

in which i lament my (seemingly) permanent situation.

ok, that’s not really true. i actually make good money (finally! thanks, robots!). i spend even greater money, so being broke is my own dang fault.

but i have a lot of hobbies, and none of them actually make money. which is why they’re hobbies, i suppose, and not vocations. my crafty-artsy hobbies cost a lot of money, and no one’s buying. i’m not selling that much but the point is the things i have up ain’t going nowhere. my musical hobbies cost money, as well, even beyond the initial layout for instruments, etc. there’s practice space, and business cards, and stickers, and other random expenses that come up. i’m lucky to break even between cover bands (that get paid a little) and original bands (that end up costing the dallahs). but shouldn’t talent be rewarded?

i mean, i normally have a self-doubt/lack of confidence issue, but for the brief moments i can get past it, i say: i’m good enough, i’m hot enough, and goddammit i spend most of my non-full-time-job hours at this, so why don’t people like me ... enough to give me money?

it brings me to sadness and despair; a kind of free-time existential crisis. sure, i’ve done pretty well at my actual career, but all the really artistic stuff... well, that’s just limbo. i don’t get paid, it takes up my time, and other than the fact that it makes my co-workers think i’m cool i don’t get much of a payout from it. what’s the point?

this is the paragraph where i’m supposed to have an answer. by typing out the whole situation, i should’ve come to clarity and had my solution at this point. but i don’t. because every couple months, i wonder why i do what i do, and every couple months, i just kind of push the doubt aside and keep doing it. but why? habit? real desire? hope? faith in pipe dreams? i’m 31 now; when do i get to the point where i say and honestly believe “i’m getting too old for this?” when do i lay down the accordion and sell off the yarn stash to accomplish those ‘real-life’ things that nag me (like home renovations and car tune-ups)? am i just too practical to be a successful artist?

thirteen years on and i still have no answers.

och, my eyes!

they recently have been working on some ”innovations” at my office building. i’ll spare you my rant about using a sign that says ”Pardon Our Innovation” and just share the glorious new design they’ve installed.


the elevator entry on my floor. you can see the offending sign in the corner.



the main entryway in the lobby; you can see elevators to the right and the directory to the left.


the best part is that they messed up the alternating pattern at the far end. or maybe i just don’t get the artistic vision.



the bathrooms are also being done to match. fantastic.


a close up of the surface. i hear it’s recycled glass. suddenly i feel very against recycling.

BONUS PICTURES!

yes, i took my camera in the bathroom stall, as well, to snap this fuzzy shot of the disposal picture. why did i do such a thing? i was bemused by the fact that if this were to scale, that tampon would be about the size of a Red Bull can. eeps!



my new inbox setup at work. the bottom sign says actual work and points down… to the bin.

it’s stuff like this…

saw something this morning that really made me angry and sad. standing in line at Best Buns (which, by the way, sells some fantastic baked goods), i saw a well-dressed white man with a bag in his hand walk behind the counter and ask a worker for napkins. the worker was back staff, if you will — the busboy type of work where you don’t interact with the customers, you just put stuff away and clean up the messes. so the worker was doing his job when this fellow walked around and asked for napkins. i couldn’t hear or see the worker, really, but the man had to repeat himself… the worker must’ve said something like “i don’t know” because the man walked away, and said aloud, exasperated “of course not.”

then he stood near the milk/sugar station to pick up some napkins. right there. in the open.

my first assumption had been that there were no napkins at the station (they were really busy this morning) and that’s why he was asking. but no. he needed special napkins(?).

now, there’s some interpretation on my part here, but i got the impression (even without seeing the worker) that the man was upset because that damn immigrant piss-ant didn’t know anything. now he was going to have to wait and take those regular napkins that were out for all the people to use.

shortly after the worker came out with a giant bag of napkins and handed some to the man, which the man took without a thank you.

vacation, all i ever wanted...

i am going on vacation.

to some, this seems rather innocuous and routine. people go on vacation all the time! some people go on a ‘big’ trip every year, with their two weeks of benefit PTO (that’s Paid Time Off for those of you who have not yet embraced GovSpeak/CorpSpeak). i, however, have not been on a vacation longer than a weekend since… well, probably since i went to Paris in February 1999.

since then, because i have a tendency to be a penny-pincher and job-hopper, i have not taken time off and gone anywhere. i’ve driven up to NJ after work, or to Rehobeth for a night, but mostly my trips are day trips. i’m excluding some days off that i’ve taken around the holidays to visit family – while i love my NY fam, it still doesn’t quite count as vacation. i’m also excluding the time i took off when i got married, cos that didn’t quite count either (and there was no honeymoon, just the wedding).

but between not having accrued vacation time and not having money to spend, my weekends on the cheap have been it. and the last weekend holiday i can recall was spent in Ocean Grove, NJ, something like two years ago.

so it’s time.

Pants was in charge of making the plans, but we clearly had different ideas about vacations, so i got involved. after some time spent hunting around the interwebs, and some storming out of the room by yours truly, a package was finally booked for the sunny beaches of Clearwater, FL.

a whole week on the beach. i bet i’ll be bored in two days.

i can’t take too much, as we’re flying (the first flight i’ve been on in ages; i am almost positive i have not flown post-9/11). so it’ll be minimal clothes (there’s a washer/dryer at the hotel), a book or two, and the necessary electronics (iPod!). i’d love to take a little knitting but i’m afraid my needles won’t make it through security. hopefully my mom has a crochet hook lying about.

now i just have to lose 10 lbs. in three weeks. i had a cookie cake yesterday so i’m off to a good start :P

why reinvent the rollying?

i had thought that folks in my profession were like the down-to-earth advertising people. i mean, the stereotype of ad people (in my head, anyway) is that they’re always just making stuff up and holding focus groups and talking corporate speak. and designers are like, sure, but how can we actually MAKE THAT EXIST? (the answer: Photoshop.)

but i realized this week that designers are in on the corp-speak nonsense, too. the moment of revelation came when i was reading a document and it called part of the design process “concepting.” i was pretty sure that wasn’t a word, so i read the description of what the “concepting” portion of the process was about... and it’s about coming up with a concept, or theme, or, more basically, an idea for the work.

see, the problem is, concept isn’t a verb.

and you may say, but cate! google isn’t a verb either, yet you embrace googling! and i say to that, yes. because google is a) made up and b) the verb form refers specifically to using google for your interwebs searching pleasure.

the problem with “concepting” as a verb is that there are ALREADY WORDS THAT MEAN THAT. you don’t just get to make up words willy-nilly, as you please, because you don’t know the english language. if you’re not a fan of using the phrase “come up with a concept,” you can also “conceive” and “conceptualize.” those are both perfectly good verbs, with the same meaning as what you’re trying to say.

and as a jargon word that only people “in the biz” know, “concepting” also sucks. it’s too long and doesn’t roll off the tongue... conCEPTing? CONcepting? how do you say that?

i’d go on about more trauma to english that i’ve witnessed lately, but i have to go back to layouting a brochure.

les cerises

a while back i went to the cherry blossom festival with some friends. basically we met for lunch at Ollie’s Trolley, waited like an hour for food, scarfed it down in 15 minutes, then walked over to see the trees. after the trees we walked FOREVER to have some strawberry daiquiris and mexican foods... Pants joined us there and then Pants and i walked all the way to the Mall again, where there was a line to get in the Smithsonian Metro Station, so we walked ALL THE WAY BACK to Capitol South.

we did get seats on the train though, which was good because we were both exhausted at that point.

here’s the photos to prove it all:

i already have a bunch of standard shots of the blossoms, so i got artsy this year.


kunk said “take a picture of me eating the blossoms,” so i did.


boy-kunk enjoys a bite.


pinkies out mean you’re a classy blossom-eater. my friend matt declined to have a blossom-eating photo taken. either he’s a jerk or mature.


i get all georgia o'keefe with the tulips.




we walk over to the museums and i take pikshurs. i like how we’re always smiling, even though deep down inside we want to kill each other. kidding!


Pants is so cute and so sweet! what the heck is he doing with me?


we wait for a train, and in true WMATA style it takes forEVER, so i amuse myself with the digital camera.



it was a really long day.

fun times on the CL

some days i spend too much time at work noodling around on the internets. i like to catch up on all my Craig’s List reading in between brochures and contracts. there are a few categories i read regularly, such as musicians, musical instruments, art jobs, creative gigs... etc., including “talent gigs.” the title of this post caught my eye, but i don’t think i’ll be replying... while technically this could come under “talent,” i’m pretty sure it belongs somewhere else.


Do you have a good singing voice? (Ashburn, VA)
Date: 2009-03-31, 1:25PM EDT

I am a 24 year old grad student and I am looking for a female with a good singing voice. I am coming home the weekend of Easter and I am looking for someone to come over to my house on Thursday April 9th to sing while I play piano. I am just looking for an attractive woman to get dressed up in a dress or something nice and come over, sit on my lap while I play the piano and you sing along with me. Mostly Phantom of the Opera, and whatever other music I have lying around or any music that you have that you like to sing. So, if you are interested, send me a pic, what kind of music you are best at, and how much for this. Thanks

* Location: Ashburn, VA
* it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
* Compensation: you tell me

it’s gonna be andre.

i just got back from the gym. if you’ve spoken to me recently you’ve likely heard me whine about the gym. i do not like it, no sir, not one bit. it’s a common story that once you start going, you start to like it, and if you skip a day, you miss it... that lasted for one week for me.

i do not like the gym.

oh, the actual place is fine, and it’s very important i exercise. but i’m not getting that post-workout endorphin rush (or i’ve become immune) and the workout is now a chore. my butt makes it over there three times a week, and i do every single exercise i plan on doing, sure... but i don’t like it.

i think that might change.

today a new gym employee, andre, started talking to me during my free weights work. he wasn’t on duty; he was just hanging out at the gym working out. he gave me a few tips, asked me if i played for Mason (i have a George Mason Basketball shirt i wear for workouts), said i looked athletic (instant points). when it came time for me to get to the hamstring/quad sets, he took me over to the ball area (neglecting his own workout) and had me do those (that is, not on the machine like i normally do). then he brought out a balance board, after i told him i’d been snowboarding.

i had fun. i had someone to talk to, he encouraged me, and he was showing me new stuff that sure, i knew about, but hadn’t bothered to try.

so i bet it’s gonna be andre. i’m pretty sure he’s a trainer there (not just a mill-about employee), so if i see him there again i’ll have to sign up for some type of session (i just wouldn’t feel right mooching his time. he’s a nice guy, he shouldn’t be punished for it). but i was probably going to shell out a little for that anyway, maybe just a couple times a month, for someone to keep me on track...

so today, i liked the gym.

true story!

this is my boss. this is his entry into the Peep contest this year.

i'm gonna be unavailable for a while.

bad news about sylvia.

in the meantime, here’s some weird news for those of us who have a certain attachment to chicago.

civil onions.

the bulb that’s always polite.

i was wondering, if Civil Unions are so equal to marriage for some of those “gays can’t marry” folks, then why don’t we change EVERYTHING to Civil Unions, hetero and homo unions alike, and then you can only get MARRIED in the religion of your choice (or not).

i mean, civil unions are just the same thing as marriage, right? right?

today, yesterday, and some days ago.

today i found a driver’s license on my way up the stairs to work. it took about a half-hour of Googling, but i located it’s owner (who works in my building) and returned it to that office. good deed for today: check. now i can be a jerk for the rest of the day. ;)

yesterday i had a gig with aubriot at the Velvet Lounge, and it went pretty well. one of the flakes from another band stepped on our bassist’s cable and broke the input to his amp head. he took responsibility, which was cool, but their bassist came up and started tuning just as we were about to start our set (???) half an hour late because of the break... they were just total flakes (with some B.O.; apparently they flake about personal hygiene as well). it was sad, cos i like to like the other bands we’re with, but it just was not destined to be with these guys (who will remain nameless unless someone asks).

and a week or so back, i cut and re-coloured my hair. the colour is mostly gone (it’s a gradient of blonde, red, and purple now), but i have pictures from the day after the self-styling.






the front is now blonde. i forget that i have freckles.

new shoes! oh, and snowboarding.

i’ve been looking for a new pair of closed-toe black work shoes. closed-toe because i’m too lazy to pedicure right now; black because, well, i wear a lot of black; and “work” because i need it to look moderately dressy and have a slight heel so my slacks don’t drag on the ground, but not too much of a heel where i employ the walk-seven-steps-pause-for-balance method of locomotion.

so after saturday snowboardy times, we stopped on our way home at the leesburg outlet stores, specifically the Kenneth Cole store, so Pants could pick up some new work shoes just like his old work shoes (if it ain’t broke...). and whilst we were there i scored this cute little pair, perfect for all my immediate shoe needs, for only $30. hurrah!



oh man, i’ll never be a foot model…

---

we also went snowboarding at Roundtop again. it was a balmy 70° at the mountain, so there was some sweating going on, because you can only take off so much. i wore a t-shirt, and decided at the last minute to also bring my jacket, just in case. i was very happy i did, because i learned that sweating is highly preferable to having your flesh mangled by the snow when you fall.

i am still a beginner, but i’m getting better, and the key part of getting better is trying things that are more difficult than what you can already do. so while i managed to falling leaf and slideslip the bejeezus out of a slope, i needed to work on toe-side turns and linking turns... and true to my demanding nature, i did. i got bruises on my knees, tender palms, a scrape to the elbow, and some seriously deep scrapes to the left arm (this is from snow???). the bad scrape came, ironically, after i had decided wearing my coat sleeves down was a good idea -- i hit the snow hard & fast enough that it pulled my sleeve up for me to expose my tender flesh to the apparently carnivorous ice & snow granules. at one point, before i swallowed my pride and took Pants’ gloves, my hands were so sore from the snow (being cold and being abraised) that i nearly cried trying to stand up. of course, if you know me, you know i cry because the traffic light changed so my lachrymosity is not much of a bellwether for how things are going.

i survived with no major injuries (“looks like a laceration.” “just rub some snow in it, you’ll be fine!”). the next day i was a bit sore, but i felt good about it. i skipped the gym on friday so i needed the workout.

so tonight, at my gig, i’m going to look a bit like i was in a brawl, but in the end i’d rather the challenge than complacency...

how’d THAT happen?

driving to work today, i saw that one bus stop shelter i pass was burned out. these are the shelters with plastic sides and domed tops on aluminum frames, and sometimes there's advertising on the sides... anyway i don’t think this one had ads or a bench. but as i pulled up i saw the plastic sides were gone, leaving ragged edges along the frame, and at first i thought the wind had blown them out. as i pulled up i saw the frame was blacker than it should be, the concrete was blackened, all the plastic was gone and the whole scene was... scorchy.

which then led me to wonder, how the hell do you burn out a structure that’s like 3' x 5' with NOTHING INSIDE IT?

pometry

i felt long overdue for the sweet powdery collection that we were granted last night/this morning. it gathered in heavy piles on everything, and i was pleased to see pine branches sagging and tips of greenery poking out randomly from drifts of white when i looked out the window this morning. even more pleased was i when i saw thick snow on my balcony, and numerous bird tracks disturbing the otherwise even surface. the tracks were varied, too, indicating more than one species had decided to check out café cate in the wee hours.

but i was disappointed, for all this visual poetry was nearly for naught. once there was a day when i would have just gone and played in the snow, my responsibilities be damned. now, along with the flicker of joy, is a heavy blanket of Ugh... the car has to be extracted, the slushy streets must be navigated, and into work i must go... only a two-hour delay was declared.

not that i don’t enjoy my job. but i lament that the time has passed where simply enjoying the wintry splendor is passed -- now i must enjoy it AND suffer it, simultaneously.

-----

speaking of poetry, i’ve been looking over quite a bit of my poetry lately. most of it was written in college; i’ve long discarded any angsty high school poems/lyrics i may have created. when you’re young, those clichés are all new to you, then you get older and more experienced and realize how god-awful your crap was.

and sadly, i feel this way about a lot of what i wrote in college. i took an actual poetry class (never been a prose writer) and felt rather proud of many of my works. one was even accepted for publication in a journal. but now i look back and think how hacked they are, how awkward and boring and predictable. the lines that i once thought were terribly clever are just marginal sentence fragments... poems i thought were meaningful now just ramble on self-indulgently.

i wonder a bit if it’s just me. i’ve lived with these ideas and words for so long they’re now familiar; they’re my picture of a snowy landscape i took that was so lovely when i first put it on the wall, but now looks like every other picture of a snowy landscape i ever saw.

i’m still keeping the work. if nothing else it’s nostalgia for emotions past. and some lines were well-written; i like to think my relationship with the english language is rather intimate, if occasionally abusive and too-familiar on my part. i regret, in a small way, having re-read the pomes (as i dub them -- i hate the word poem). how much better was that inflated memory of literary triumph! but maybe the time for that self-satisfied pride has passed, along with the time for writing pomes, and the time for appreciating a good snow day well and fully. it’s not sad, because other pleasures take their place... but i do get a bit nostalgic, and romantic, and i love the bittersweet flavour.

Pikshahs!

the promised photos and video from Monsieur Pants.


talking to our instructor.


Kunk rockin’ the “Staying Upright” portion of the game.



and again, fully upright and gliding down the mountain.


slowly, slowly, she slides down the slope... oops! Pants is too nice and didn’t film my entire spectacular tumble.


more of me ’boarding.


Kunk doing well... we all fall down.


steadily she makes her way...

The Board, The Snow, and The Astonished Woman

the past saturday marked my fourth trip snowboarding, and a confusing time for me.

this trip took us to RoundTop (“Where the Logos Are Designed By Hippies” - unfortunately i have no documentation of this), which is the farthest of the Pants-approved slopes. a daring young Kunk joined us on this trip, as well, and i was glad for the company. there is photo and video of this outing, but as i don’t have it in my possession at the moment i must let the suspense build.

it was a 2.5 hr trip out there, after stopping to rescue Kunk from the clutches of the WMATA and fueling ourselves on McDonald’s breakfast chow, but well worth the haul. RoundTop is my favorite mountain of all the ones we have visited. i was sporting my brand-new-i-forgot-to-break-them-in snowboard boots, and Pants had a shiny new just-received-the-day-before snowboard to try out. Kunk didn’t have anything new, but since i was informed this was only the second time in her life she’d gone snowboarding, i figured it was ok.

we rented our equipment, changed our clothes because it was reeeally warm on the mountain, and headed to the learner’s slope. Pants showed Kunk how to skate, turn, and glide, and then there was an actual first-timer’s lesson. this was the FOURTH first-timer’s lesson i’d taken, and the first occasion that i was not the WORST in the class; in fact i was almost the best. almost. we skipped out early (just like the time before with Ms. McHidingersons); Kunk seemed to get the gist of it and there were necessary potty breaks to be had. they don’t stop that class for nothin’.

my favorite part of the class was as we milled around the foot of the bunny slope, and a woman in red, on skis, came toward our group. she was shrieking in these short, piercing yelps, as the instructor up the hill called out encouraging directions. she executed her turn, didn’t fall or collide with anyone, and looked like she had just survived an auto accident, her fists clenched about her ski poles and her body clearly tensed, noticeable even under her fluffy ski apparel. i thought it was funny until i realized she wasn’t relaxing even after stopping, and then i thought maybe she was one of the adaptive learners... well, later on Kunk came to a slow halt (and fall) near the Shrieking Lady and her instructor on the bunny slope, and the Shrieking Lady shrieked (bien sûr) and stared at Kunk, who was sitting harmlessly in the snow, with her eyes wide, her body tensed, unable to flee on her cumbersome skis but unable to realize there was no danger, until her instructor calmed her enough to scoot her away from the location of the trauma. i’m pretty sure she wasn’t one of the adaptive people; i’m pretty sure she was just a little odd.

things went great. Kunk didn’t fall her first time off the lift, and magically seemed to have the hang of snowboarding within an hour. i was furiously jealous and thought about deliberately crashing into her, but didn’t. actually, i’m kidding, Kunk did do splendidly but i was more in awe and pleased that at least SOMEBODY seems to understand this stupid sport. Pants coached her down the slope, and i added mostly unhelpful advice (not quite along the lines of “don’t fall” but pretty close).

we descended the slope with joy, and then descended on some nachos and four dollar sodas. the nachos were delightfully stale, salty chips doused in quickly congealing velveeta; no tomatoes, onions, or peppers in sight. Pants stole an orange soda (thereby making it all the sweeter). he claims it was inadvertent, but we all know the truth.

and then the confusing time. it was just about time for us to leave, Kunk was worn out, and Pants was ready to pack it in... and i didn’t want to go. i begged for one more run down the easy slope, and kindly my companions obliged. Kunk actually waited patiently at the lodge, and Pants accompanied me. i went down the slope again, and almost felt in control. i didn’t panic when i went backwards. the board started doing what i willed it to do. sure, i fell some more, but only when i was a little over my head; i fell when i kept pushing instead of taking the safe route of stopping.

today my calves hurt, but the rest of me is whole, and i want to go again.

if i gotta work...

this job ain’t half bad.

i could go on about the good feeling here, the consummate professionalism, the lack of antagonistic tendencies, the lack of scrutiny and abundance of trust that the job will be done and will be done well...

before i post a couple pictures from today, i just want to note that i will be hitting the slopes again tomorrow, with my very own snowboard boots that i bought, and i hope it will be as delightful as last time. also, i took some clothes (four shirts, two pairs of slacks) in to be dry-cleaned for the first time in i don’t know how long, and it will be THIRTY-FIVE DOLLARS. i believe i’ll be washing at home from now on.

i asked for mouse ears when co-workers were attending one of our conferences held in Orlando, FL.




yes, those are monkeys behind me.

also, i’ve been sick for a couple days, so i put this sign up to warn folks.


oh, and here’s the bio i wrote when it was requested:

Cate Meyers has been successfully designing and producing projects and publications for over a decade. Armed with a B.A. in Graphic Design, she’s run the gamut of publication work, from signage to corporate identity to catalogs. While other designers cower before deadlines, Cate ensnares them in a full nelson and demands their submission. She’s also been known to MacGyver some fantastic designs out of just a one-button mouse and a single software program, endearing her to many a budget-conscious manager. Microsoft Word, however, remains her kryptonite.

Despite initial artistic criticism (from her parents, regarding unauthorized bedroom wall painting) Cate forged ahead, getting her GED as soon as legally possible in order to start college two years early. After a brief fling with photojournalism, she discovered graphic arts, a field that allows her to remain gainfully employed doing something she loves.

When she’s not saving the world from poor typography, Cate plays music, listens to music, and writes music. She can also be found knitting, baking, sewing, making jewelry, playing video games, and occasionally sitting still, though not for very long. Cate’s most proud of her perfect teeth (no cavities!) and the fact that she's never, ever broken a single bone in her body. Some disapprove of her irreverent attitude, but she feels if the work must be done, why not have a good time doing it?

mad props to skarziproodthingidingersons for the edit/re-write assistance.

i’m going to say no, anyway.

stuff like this makes me nauseated.

fancy!

i was kindly invited by the youngest Groodthing to a formal event two Saturdays past. Ms. Groodthing-Hidingersons is a new hire at a company that does some obscure stuff that i don’t really understand. what i can say is, they primarily do government contracting; i realize that’s most businesses in the greater (lesser?) D.C. area.

i think they’re a typical contract-y bunch, bureaucratic by proxy, with their corp-speak and military connections. they have a delightfully non-descript name, like “Infocorp” and “Interglobal” and “Compudyne” and “Procomm” and “Bizco.” but as this was their 10th anniversary party, one surmises they were formed in the go-go 90s, when the business world still clung longingly to the go-go 80s and the ridiculous business jargon of paradigms being shifted using outside-of-the-box thinking that will integrate our core competencies with synergistic implementation.

the par-tay was at the splendid Room of Balls in Clarendon, which meant we were just a short drive away (thankfully). we gussied ourselves up at Chez Cate, trying on gowns JUST BECAUSE WE HAD ENOUGH GOWNS AVAILABLE TO TRY A BUNCH ON. that’s right, there was an over abundance of gowns between the two of us, and this is NOT because we attend formal affairs often. it’s simply because we’re girls, and we will take any chance we get to have a fancy dress. or maybe it’s just me.

anyhoo, my lady friend wore a darling plum coloured sparkly number, and i sported the burgundy and black frock that i got for the inaugural ball. after dresses were donned and hair was straightened, we eensed across the new skate rink that was where the sidewalk used to be and headed to Chez Groodthings to drop off a car and chat with Mère Groodthing. we took pictures and chatted, and it was pleasantly relaxing, as all trips there are.

and then we were off to the event! while driving in four-inch heels is no picnic, it’s easier than attempting to enter or disembark the driver’s seat of my vehicle with a full gown, heels, and long coat on. but after some rustling of crinoline, i managed to wedge myself in again and made our way down Route 50. after a period of time i realized that i once again confused Route 50 with 29, and thankfully turned off into Arlington before we ended up in DC. a brief trip up Wilson Blvd, a circle of the block (or two), and we arrived at a parking space just a couple blocks away, then hoofed it over to the Room of Balls.

they had a fancy light-up arch with the company name on it, and a 10-foot red carpet, and two bouncers hassling some dude who lost something on a previous night. oh and there were two 5-foot lengths of velvet rope on either side of the carpet, and if the bouncer wasn’t talking to you you had to be OFF the carpet. we overheard this poor guy telling bouncer #1 that he just wanted to talk to the coat check guys, please... then bouncer #2 came back out and checked off Ms. Groodthing and Guest and we were IN, leaving poor lost-thing man to the whims of the bouncers.

then there was a fancy ice sculpture at the entrance, which i totally didn’t notice until later (how do you miss a four-foot high ice sculpture you walked less than five feet from?). but i was preoccupied on making it to the coat check (down the stairs, says Mr. Bouncer), so that ice sculpture was just an obstacle. we headed down and checked our coats (and polka-dotted them, too), and said hi to the first familiar find of the evening, a asian gentleman waiting for his wife by the restrooms. he was actually known by my date, as were approximately four other people that evening (did i mention she’s quite new at the company?) so it was imperative to say hi to everyone that was recognizable.

up the stairs we trotted after that brief awkward exchange, and promptly headed for the bar. i was so intent on finding some liquor to aid my enjoyment that i ventured too far ahead and had to turn back upon hearing my name called by my date, who had stumbled upon her immediate boss. another awkward exchange, not as awkward as the last, left me unsure where i should be looking and if i should be talking more. and then the first food pusher of the evening arrived.

the food pushers were my favorite part. each server carried a plate or pushed a cart of canapés or hors d'oeuvres, and should a guest (GOD FORBID) refuse their offering, no matter how politely, he or she seemed to take personal offense to the slight of their miniature servings. our first encounter consisted of a man gently wedging between two of us with a “pardon me, miss” every second, then a firm statement of “Proscuitto.” i wasn’t sure if it was an offer or a demand, but we all gently demurred and he dejectedly removed his plate from our midst.

the rest of the evening was filled with more of his kind, though they were mostly more kindly with their offers. puréed red pepper soup, spanikopita triangles, proscuitto on breadsticks, lemon beef, ceviche, little apple pastry puffs, and more! every thing was delicious.

the evening wore on, but pleasantly enough. we watched (rather, listened to) an award presentation and mocked some of the more interesting looking folks, like the short dark-haired woman with way too much boobage. she didn't even have it pushed up, she wore it somewhat bound against her chest, but still her boobs were sized to belong to a woman thrice her stature. her dress was satiny red, and her hair was a black, smooth, bob, lending her the air of a burlesque dancer in her off-hours.

there was a fine mix of ditzes, classy dames, old creeps, and gentlemen, but after hellos were exchanged with everyone the Mademoiselle knew, we gathered our coats (we were the first to leave!) and departed the event.

and the moment you've all been waiting for, the pikshurs!

the gubmint took mah brain-waves

i am the only person manning the unmanned office today. yes, it is ironic that we need someone to answer the phone and get the door here at Robots. i wouldn’t mind at all, truly, for it is quiet and dark and i can sing out loud and eat leftover party foods, except: it is insanely busy.

i came in a few minutes after 9 a.m., and there were already two messages on the operator line. there has been a phone call every 20 minutes. i had to get the door for the print delivery man, the mailman, the ups man, the fedex man, and a sales man. and it all happens at once. a woman from scandinavia called, and in the middle of that call the delivery man rang the bell. twice i’ve been on the phone and heard the beep of another incoming call. it’s not even 2 p.m. and EVERYONE has questions.

now, i was warned there would be a lot of questions. i was told many people would wonder about the event that everyone else is attending. and there are a lot of questions, except that only TWO of them have been about the aforementioned event.

and my favorite part of the day, so far, is the fellow who works for the government who would like to attend the conference. except he didn’t register in advance, so we only have on-site registration. and he needs an invoice before the accounting person will pay. except we don’t do invoices, just receipts. so i sent his call over to the registration desk. a bit later i got a call from my Robot Director, asking me to e-mail him the on-site registration form. which i did, and just after i press send, i get a call from the nice accounting lady that this man is trying to make pay for this conference. i mistakenly explained to her what was going on, and she said it wouldn’t work, she needed an invoice, and after a bit of unnecessary explanation on her part about why she needs an invoice, not a receipt, i started backing out of the conversation, telling her i didn’t know what he was going to do, i understand, etc.

she was very nice, mind you, not angry at me at all. but she was clearly annoyed with the fellow who was attempting to register, and she told me all about what options she gave him, and how he waited to the last minute, and she told him that wouldn’t work, and this wouldn’t work, and she would just send it right back, and if he didn’t have an invoice he just wouldn’t be able to go to the training.

i said i was sorry i couldn’t be more helpful, and she said thank you, and that was blissfully the end of the Tragic Tale of the Government Accounting Woman and the Man Who Didn’t Register In Advance.

awesomely awesome.

so i did go to the gym today, and that may or may not be a tale for another time, but something happened that ranks up in my top ten of Funniest Things to Actually Happen in My Actual Real Life.

i went with my male co-worker, and we got the 5-minute tour, and changed in our respective locker rooms, worked out... then i said i had enough and went to wash & change, whilst my co-worker continued his work-out.

i went to my locker, took off my shirt (but not my sport bra), and decided to head over to the scale, which is around the corner by the sinks. weighed myself and went around the corner to get my clothes -- and who is standing there, winded, with a water bottle, just lookin’ around like nothing? my male co-worker.

i said (partially squealed) Hey! You’re in the wrong one! and he looked at me. i could almost see the thought process as he looked, recognized me, got confused, and said “What? You’re kidding me!” to which i replied, bemused, No! he got flustered, kind of covered his eyes and dashed out...

it’s the kind of bone-headed thing i would do, and i might have been mortified, too, except i happened to be clothed.

looks like i joined the team just in time.

sure, they say they’re like pets... for now. pretty soon they’ll be overlords.

cutting-edge coffee technology. with stars!

while i don’t care to trash-talk prior employers, at least, not in writing, i do want to say that the Robots is much more awesomer than my last job. not only do they pay a reasonable salary with excellent benefits (for reals, i have great inexpensive insurance and 401k matching with none of that ‘vested %’ crap, along with a gym membership), they know how to have a pretty decent workplace.

see, back at the JWeek, we had marginal offices, with the kind of furniture that you get for free off Craig’s List. Not that it was terribly crappy... just kinda ghetto a little. we had free all-staff lunches every quarter, with mediocre food, which i suspect was mediocre because we got Kosher foods. the mediocrity stems not from the Kosher aspects but probably because the place we got it from wasn’t that great, but it was a) nearby and b) Kosher.

anyway, the point is, it was OK, but that’s about it.

but here at the Robots, i have my own cubby with nose-high walls (privacy!), a wii (for team-building!), a graphics tablet (Intuos3 6x8) that i didn’t have to buy myself, Adobe CS3 (and Quark 7 if i cared to use it), lots of restaurants and a grocery store within walking distance, and company-paid lunches whenever an excuse can be found.

on tuesday we had a delish lunch with pita sammitches and sammitches on rolls and spicy pepper hummous, two types of chips, veggies, salsa and dips, soda (including Coke Zero!), two types of cookies, and special foods for folks who may have had other dietary needs... there might have been more but i just can’t remember. we had this spread in the conference room because the new administrative assistant started. when i first started, we all went to lunch across the street at a restaurant. before i started they asked me to come for lunch on a friday.... just to hang with the peeps.

and just this week the coffee maker came. it seems they used to have a regular coffee maker, like one might have at home, but during the expansion the carafe was broken. so we now have this spacey single unit coffee maker, in the open sunny lunch room that affords a view of Shirlington rooftops and access to a deck. the coffee maker is reasonably cool — you put a little cup of what i assume is concentrated drink in the top, press a button, and sphfffissssshhhhsssfffffssshhhh yer coffee or tea or hot lemon drink is dispensed. but my favorite part is the drain plate...


stylish!



profile-ish!


STAR!

all the beverages taste better because of the star.
i think i’m gonna like it here.

the government has the memory of a goldfish.

i just heard on the radio today that the government of Maryland is considering charging EZPass users a $1.50 monthly fee, whether they use the pass or not.

what???

i don’t have an EZPass, i don’t even live in Maryland, and i avoid toll roads at all costs (pardon the approximate pun), but i still think this is outrageous. one of the reasons the gov likes an EZPass system so much is that it reduces the cost of collecting tolls. so what they’re saying is, “hey, yeah, i know we all encouraged you to sign up for this to save us money and increase usability of our toll roads, but now we’re going to punish you for that privilege. cos all that money we saved? er, we kinda blew it.”

in brainless government news a little closer to (my) home, the VA state House passed, and the VA state Senate has sent back, a law banning cell-phone use while driving unless a hands-free device is used.

ahem. what???

clearly, the twits either are illiterate or simply don’t remember reading the numerous studies that show it is not HOLDING the phone that causes distraction, it is the CONVERSATION on the phone. i am at just as much risk HOLDING (not talking on) a cell phone as i am holding a bacon cheeseburger. if they really want to save people from distracted drivers, they need to ban ALL use of cell phones, hand-held or hands-free.

but all this is a moot point anyway, in my opinion, because we already have laws to punish distracted drivers. they’re laws against reckless driving, and they encompass pretty much anything an officer thinks you’re doing behind the wheel that would endanger yourself or others, and the punishments are wide-ranging, depending on how serious the court finds your infraction.

it’s almost enough to make a girl a libertarian.

this picture sums it up nicely.

Pants and i were busy disagreeing on my hairstyle for the GWU Inaugural Ball Clusterf- uh, show last week, so while i went with his opinion on how to actually wear my hair, i still insisted he see it exactly as i intended on wearing it to make sure he was making a fully informed decision.

eventually i'll blog about the actual show (and the show which Ms. McHidingersons attended the following night), but for now, here's a couple shots of me, the gown in action, and the aforementioned hairstyles.


exhibit A: the straight hair and gown.


exhibit B: curly hair.
also, i love this picture because something about it is so ”us.”