beancounters

I know you know what I know

I've been all but MIA from the blog this week, and maybe longer. I feel bad about that because I still really, really enjoy it here. I blame some big, but hopefully temporary, stresses around Dream Job and around my family's diminished fluxuating health level.

I don't know what to say at this point. Sorry? (It's my blog!) I promise I'll post more? (What if I don't?) I'm sure I'll post even less? (What do you care?) Blogging is such a weirdness. Maybe it's most practical to say c'est la vie!

What's your dream home?

I am totally cool with this, especially the description of the home theater and the ballroom with a lonely corner reserved for the scorned. At first I wanted a Time Lord's home, but heaven forfend. Who wants to travel that much? [via Chaos Theory]

Your home is a Magic Magnate's Manor Your kitchen is someplace you never go, because you "have people for that." There's a Chocolatessen, which is rapidly becoming your favorite room of the house. Having one is also becoming a trend among your wealthy neighbors. Your master bedroom is the size of a small barn, with carpet thick enough to reach your ankles. Your study has hardback editions of every classic ever written, plus a special edition of Rich Dad, Poor Dad with the parts you ghost-authored highlighted. One of your garages holds your collection of ferraris, and is measured in acreage. Your home also includes a guest wing and private quarters for your servants. Your guests enjoy your home theater with hi-def plasma screen TV, and the thrones you watch it from. Outside is your hedge maze and gardens, meticulously tended by a team of world-class botanists. And, you have a pet -- a doberman pincer named "Warren". Below is a snippet of the blueprints:

Build YOUR Dream Home!

Garden Geeks

Garden Geeks?
Originally uploaded by beancounter

Okay, here's what you do. You set up the geek on your lawn, insert your garden hose into the hinged arm, and turn on the hose full blast. The arm swings back and forth, and the whole thing waters your lawn, see?

Yeah. Some crafts at Apple Hill are quite charming, but crafts this charming would suffer cruelly if taken out of their native habitat. (Or so I said to BB so we wouldn't buy one.) On the plus side, they're not made in China!

Leading the way to safer toys

I'm impressed. Two Sacto area residents are getting the jump on Christmas. From their blog:

In light of numerous recalls, we've created a listing of brands, toys and products that are NOT "Made in China." We have included links to various sellers and the country of origin for your convenience. Protect your kids and your family!

I thought of my mom when I saw this. She goes to great lengths to buy her grandkids classic toys they'll love. The absence of lead-based paints on them will be a real plus in her book. (BTW, why are lead-based paints still being produced anywhere?)

As for me, I was pleased to see that Slinkys are still manufactured in the U.S.A. I've just decided to give one to everybody on my Xmas list ...
 

All the med news that's fit to print

If I related to you every medical thing going on with this small family of three humans and two dogs, it would make you burst into copious tears and weep - weep, I say - into your lattes.  Happily, this is not That Kind of Blog.

Suffice to say, it ain't been pretty!

But here was some good that came out of a four-hour stint at Kaiser on Tuesday: Bunny got her cast off! She's on crutches now; no more wheelchariot.

Various ankles and feet are still, how you say, screwy. So she has to wear a boot and a post-op shoe. Very attractive. I told her she ought to try and start a fad, but for some reason, she doesn't see that happening.

In other news, Sammy has finally been neutered. The deed was done last Friday. On Saturday he came home, stoned out of his gourd on pain meds and with one of those E-collars on. I would have taken a picture for you, but I never got the chance! As soon as he sobered up, he worked off that stupid cone and that was that.

And as far as we can tell, he has not noticed the difference. He acts just the same. Never would have believed it. I mean, sure, I know we're talking about a dog's memory here, but still. Body parts, people. You'd think he'd remember a body part.

Pirate Bunny is not amused

Rabbit talks like a pirate
Originally uploaded by beancounter

Just for you (and you)

To all the librarians and future librarians I know (a growing number!), here's a veritable bounty of library-related goodness at Miss Cellania.

While I was there, I found this sign, which made me laugh out loud - a rare feat just now. Can you read it? If so, you probably spend way too much time web-surfing ...

Every move you make, every byte you take

Good old Cracked!

Five things Hollywood thinks computers can do

Hacking is to this movie what magic is in the Harry Potter stories: plot-hole spackle. All the gaping cracks in logic between scene A to scene C can be neatly smoothed over with the mystical power of hack. The improbability reaches critical mass, though, when the bad guys hack into the natural-gas lines near a power plant and make them spontaneously explode under the streets.

But I'm disappointed beyond measure that this article tried to debunk War Games. I'm sorry, but Matthew Broderick didn't cause the nation to reach the brink of global destruction through hacking. The problem began when WOPR started to stalk Matthew Broderick! (And who could blame it.) See, a story where computers can obsess over humans? Totally believable.

Speeeeed demon

It's Saturday, so you have time to read Cockeyed's inspired sociology experiment, creating a speed trap in his own neighborhood. I love the picture of this guy crouched behind a car, aiming his toy radar gun, just like a TV cop except perhaps without the gravitas of a uniform ...

Cockeyed has conducted many other rigorous experiments in the name of science. Like this one, attempting to bust the myth that toast always lands butter-side down. Hmm, this site may take more than one Saturday to read.

Interesting

[xkcd]

Happy Friday, blogfolk! May today prove to be very, very interesting ...

I am so confused!

Spotted in a local doorway this week. This is whatcha called "mixed messages".

All I can say is, that rent had better be REALLY, REALLY CHEAP.

Netherland-envy

What some civil servants will do for publicity!

BERLIN (Reuters) - A town council in Germany has decided the best way of improving road safety is to remove all traffic lights and stop signs downtown.

From September 12, all traffic controls will disappear from the center of the western town of Bohmte to try to reduce accidents and make life shorter easier for pedestrians. [...]

Monderman's ideas have already been implemented in the town of Drachten in the north of the Netherlands, where all stop lights, traffic signs, pavements, and street markings have gone.

In other news, the Netherlands appear to have gotten that overpopulation problem under control ...

I kid, I kid! It should be an interesting urban experiment. Public policy analysts will be watching this test case closely. I mean, no traffic signals, not even a few first come, first served stop signs? Please. I give 'em two months, but that's just a back-of-the-envelope estimate.

Coming to a nose near you

BOSTON - Megan Dickerson always loved the rich colors and melodic scores of the film "Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory." But she also longed to experience the sweet scents of chocolate and schnozberries. A self-proclaimed multisensory artist, Dickerson is now trying to revive "Smellovision."

"There's been a crazy response to the movement," Dickerson said. "I guess there just aren't enough opportunities for wonder out there, but there's something nostalgic about this art action that makes you feel like a kid again."

OK, may I just say, this woman is my new heroine. Follow your dream, Megan!

But Megan, if you wouldn't mind some advice ... the labels you've saddled yourself with sound hokey, and will hinder anyone in the film industry serious enough to invest (except maybe Kevin Smith). I mean, Smell-o-vision? Odorama? Girl, please.

In which Bean goes all Hannibal on a candy bar

Life at Dream Job is getting very tough. I love it here, of course, and I want to succeed, but I'm nearly at my wits' end. I'm writing a report for three people: my boss, his boss, and a faceless client. On two separate occasions, I have believed the report to be complete and ready for publication. Both times, my boss brought it back and told me his boss didn't think it ready to be seen by the faceless client. Now, my boss has taken upon himself a more active mentor role.* And apparantly, the bosses are holding summit meetings about my probation; I'm told the delays on this report aren't helping my chances of passing. It's frustrating beyond measure.

It's frustrated me to the point where I'm starting to affect how I eat my afternoon snacks. Yesterday, I bought a Snickers bar, took it back to my office, unwrapped it, put it on a plate, and with a little plastic knife, I slowly cut the bar into tiny, tiny cubes. And then ate the cubes one by one (with my fingers, and only because I didn't have a fork). I've never done that before. Bizarre. Satisfying but bizarre.

It's like I told Savvy: If I were writing this report for school, at some point my prof would just slap a B on it, and I would shove it into a folder with a palpable sense of relief. In school, if you don't nail the report, you just resolve to hit it on the final. But as this is life, nobody's going to give me a passing grade - it's A work, or nothing. So I revise and revise ...

* Anthony says instead of eating lunch at my desk, I should eat right at my boss's desk. Lunch is Revolution!

Kaboom!

Web 2.0 is really something amazing, isn't it? Only in this time and place could we, the children of the Information Age, build our own little online arcade games for the purpose of humiliating each other. Check out MyGame.com, where you can choose from several different games, upload the face of someone special, paste it onto a body in a compromising manner, and mash it all together for hours of fun!

Transport resolved

Still feeling a little squicky about this: After I absolutely threw myself upon the mercy of the daycare provider, she felt guilty enough to dream up a loophole in her licensing law, which will let the center transport and care for Bunny in her wheelchariot.

Much to my horror, when I was on the phone with her, I nearly broke down. I quickly terminated the call, of course. I'm 44; I don't conduct business with tears! But an hour later, she called me back with an apology for letting me worry, and with contingency arrangements. I didn't know how to say thank you - was she breaking the law? Was she making an exception? Had she cynically been holding out on me before?

Well, I'll just say thank you with a tuition check. The American Way.

Oh, and then there's my boss. Since I'd already told him what I'd be doing yesterday, this morning he kindly asked if I'd taken care of the situation. Then he said that, in family emergencies, it's okay to work at home temporarily. What? Sure, now he tells me.

Breakin' up in five easy stages

The inimitable Lori of Hahn at Home has compiled a comprehensive list of breakup songs that would make Elizabeth Kubler-Ross proud.

The Breakup Matrix of Grief has five stages. So, I thought I’d share a little breakup mix. This is by no means an all inclusive list. In fact, I now sport about six or seven thousand songs to work through a breakup. It’s a science.

Bunny breaks a bone

Here's Dr. Sammy, examining the latest infirmity in the Beancounter household.

Bunny has a fracture in her right foot ... and a sprained left ankle at the same time. So on Friday, after the x-rays, BB ordered a wheelchair for her, and she's been chairbound ever since.

But she's also been in very good spirits, considering. She's determined to get around normally. I myself would never have bet that Bunny could maneuver through our little house in a wheelchair, but she was confident she could, so we let her try. And she's surprisingly good. There are only a few scrapes in our hallway. Oh, well, we need to repaint anyway.

Took her to school this morning, chair and all. I think she'll be all right. She's supposed to switch to crutches in about five days, when the ankle heals.

Meanwhile, we can't figure out who can pick her up from school and watch her in the afternoons until the cast comes off. Her usual daycare flat refuses to do it - they're only licensed for ambulatory students. There's even a doubt that they'll accept her on crutches, in this non-weight bearing cast. (See if I pay them for September.)

BB and I each work in other parts of the city. It's a major undertaking to come back to the suburbs early. And both of us are new hires on probation; taking off every afternoon is not going to be possible.

Hell's bells. How hard can it be to find temporary help for one gimpy child?

And when humankind is gone ...

... another lifeform will dominate the planet ...

Psst ... where'd everybody go?

Is it just me, or does reading this sometimes cheer you up? .......