I am totally slow in discovering the genius that is Jonathan Coulton, but it’s pure awesomeness. He releases the music he’s written under a creative commons license, so there are quite a few videos that people have made. Take a listen. You can buy his music from iTunes or directly from his website.

And this…

I am this close to deleting my Facebook account.  At first the apps just drove me mildly insane, but then I figured out how to block the gabillionty updates that appeared in my news feed and I thought all was good.

Except that there are always new apps.  It’s like playing Whack-A-Mole with the app blocking, and that drives me slightly insane too.  But I could live with it.

Until this morning.  I’ve been seeing all of these “friendly quiz” updates all over my feed, where people answer a question about their friends.  There are about 4 different apps that I’ve seen so far that do this same thing.  It works under the premise of how well do you know your friends and how well do your friends know you?

When you click on the app you get to see the questions people answered about you, but you don’t get to see who answered until you answer a shitpot of questions about your friends, which is how they perpetuate this bullshit.  Human nature is to want to know what people have to say about you and they are banking on the fact that you can’t resist knowing what’s hidden in the box and you will play along to find out.

It all seemed pretty harmless until I looked at the questions.  Most of them are totally innocuous, like Is Lisa geeky? and Do you think Lisa knows how to drive a stick shift?

And then I got to this one: Do you think Lisa makes more than $50K a year?

Hey there, ho there, back up the information superhighway!  This is information I’m not going to give out willy-nilly on Facebook.  I presume this app assumes that my friends know me well enough to answer this question correctly, so here’s my question.

What is the purpose of the information these apps are gathering?  It seems like nothing more than a cleverly disguised data miner to me.

Am I crazy in thinking that this is not ok?  Whether it’s just to target their sidebar ads more effectively, or some other more sinister reason, I am just not down with this kind of monkeyshine.  I can block this app from my feed and from gathering my information from my feed, but if I block the app does that mean it has to stop asking questions about me?  Or does that just mean that I won’t see the questions it asks about me anymore while it goes along its merry way sticking its nose all up in my hoobastank?  Because I’ve noticed that this app asks questions about everyone, even people I know are on top of their Facebook privacy game.

It’s all fun and Facebook games until someone loses an eye.  In my case, 99% of the people on my Facebook account don’t know me well enough to answer these questions correctly but that’s kind of beside the point.

What do you think?  Am I totally over-reacting?  Has paranoia finally destroyed me?  Is it possible to completely block these apps from even asking about you?  Does it even matter?  I have an itchy trigger finger poised over the “delete account” button, and inquiring minds want to know.

Friday nights are kind of a big deal in our house.  We have a thing about Friday night.  It’s pizza and beer night, and usually my BFF comes over and we hash out our week and laugh our asses off.  There is much hilarity and it’s the perfect end to a week.

This week was different.  My girlfriend was sick and stayed home.  Hubs and I made pizza, but it wasn’t the same.  There was no hilarity, there was just pizza and a little beer.

The boy had plans for the evening so after dinner he bailed to hang out with his friends.  Hubs and I were watching movies and looking forward to the rest of the evening as only parents can when the kid(s) are out of the house for the night.  You know what I mean.

Until the phone rang.

“Mom, you’re going to LOVE me.”

Well of course I love him, but this didn’t sound good.

“I’m stuck.”

“What do you mean you’re stuck?”

“Well I thought it would be fun to go 4-wheeling for the first time ever and I was stupid and now I’m stuck in the mud.”

He told us where he was and we had a bad feeling because it sounded like the place where every dumbass with a truck gets stuck at one time or another if they don’t know that it’s all lakebed clayey silt that blows up like marshmallow fluff when it’s saturated, like it is now since it’s been soaking for a good two months.  In other words, it was exactly the place where we always point and laugh that they were so stupid as we drive by and bask in the glow of our superior knowledge.

The exact same place we warned him about when he got his truck because we knew it was only a matter of time before a teenager with a 4WD vehicle would feel his oats enough to give it a go.

So we put on our boots and jackets and got the Jeep on the road and sure enough, that was exactly the place where he was stuck. All the way up past his axles. Fuuuucccckkkkkkkk!!!

Pardon the crappy iPhone with an almost dead battery pic. I didn't think to grab my camera before we left. Much like we didn't grab a shovel.

It turns out that he picked a spot that was smack in the middle of the muck, it was pretty damn dark, and parts of it were covered in standing water.  Oh and he was wearing shorts and hi-tops in 35 degree weather.  Advance planning at it’s best!

Did I mention that he didn’t actually have his truck in 4-wheel-drive?  And now that it was stuck we couldn’t get it in 4-wheel-drive?

Now I love my Jeep, but it’s not exactly a truck.  It has a tow package, with tow hooks on the front, but it doesn’t have the kind of powerhouse engine required to break the suction in this La Brea Tar Pits-like mud.  We moved the Jeep into position in what looked like a drier section of the dirt, but just like quicksand, it fooled us and it wasn’t long until we were stuck up to our axles too.

Is it weird that I am alternately laughing and wishing I had a better camera with me?

There was nothing left to do but call for a tow truck.  We waited out in the cold-ass dark to flag down the tow truck because we couldn’t give him an exact location beyond “on the side of the road in the back of the valley before the little church.”  There are drawbacks to living out in the sticks.

I could mention here that I found all of this rather funny, especially the comedy of all the things he did wrong.  It’s a lot funnier when the sum total of your function in this situation is calling for the tow, holding the credit card, and live tweeting the situation.

I could also mention that at one point I was also stuck in the mud and hubs and the boy had to grab me and pull me out.

Once the tow truck came it moved pretty smoothly.  The guy had a shovel and once our axles were freed enough he attached the winch.

Who has two thumbs and passed up an opportunity for a pic of hubs with his butt up in the air? Not me, that's for sure!

The rest of the evening was pretty anti-climatic.  Both vehicles were pulled out.  I handed over my credit card.  We drove home, flinging mud from our tires the whole way.  The boy spent the morning cleaning up the mess on the vehicles and hosing the mud off the clothes and boots.

Valuable lessons have been learned about carrying shovels, staying away from the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Mud for the rest of eternity, putting your vehicle in 4WD, dressing appropriately for the weather, that it costs $300 to get two vehicles pulled out of the goo, and the consequences of having a mother with Twitter and Facebook accounts and her very own blog plaform from which to broadcast your dumbassery all over the interwebs.

Learning is fundamental.

What do you do when you have become an infrequent blog poster?  Why you start a new blog, of course!  Check out my new photo blog when you have a chance.  It’s something I’ve been wanting to do for quite a while, and this weekend the sudden snowstorm gave me the chance to finally work the kinks out of the it.  There are still a few tweaks I want do, but the basics are there.

I have always heard that you don’t let dog’s eat chocolate because it will kill them, or at least make them very sick. I guess I thought it was some kind of doggy kryptonite that acted like poison in their system. Turns out not exactly. How do I know this?

My poor ginger Beagle has an allergy to something we haven’t figured out yet that gives her hives all over her body. She scratches herself until she bleeds if it goes untreated so to counteract the hives she has to take a steroid pill every day. Unfortunately steroids do the same things to dogs that they do to humans – they constantly think they’re starving and they are moody beyotches.

Sasha has gone from affectionate but kind of aloof to a needy pet me now, pet me now, pet me NOW lapdog with emotional issues. (anyone that says dogs don’t have emotions and moods has never actually HAD a dog) And she eats anything and everything she can get her face on if we’re not really careful.

Anyway, Monday night I found that she had locked herself in the office. I didn’t think much about it, I just let her out. She likes to go in there and torment Benito, our chinchilla, whenever she has the chance so that door is usually closed to keep her out. This morning hubs came into the bathroom while I was getting ready, because we’re all the mystery is gone like that, with a handful of chocolate wrappers. I had put a bunch of Lindt truffles and a bag of chocolate coins in his Christmas stocking, and mutant that he is, he still hadn’t eaten them all.

Who let’s chocolate just sit around uneaten for two whole months anyway?

At first I thought he was accusing me of raiding his chocolate stash, which was probably a valid thought because there is a statute of limitations on chocolate neglect, and sooner rather than later it becomes fair game for the first person who comes across it. I’m just sayin’.

But no, it wasn’t the fat girl. It was the crazy Beagle with an eating disorder, and the proof was in the pile of fang-punctured wrappers. Apparently Monday night Sasha ninja’d herself into the office to have a little chocolate binge. Because that’s what you do when you’re riding the emotional rollercoaster that goes along with the steroid psychosis, right? That’s what I do anyway. Hubs I don’t know. Anyone who just lets chocolate sit has issues I don’t even want to begin to think about.

Now that it’s two days later and clearly she’s fine I can laugh about it, but I probably would have had a heart attack and rushed her to the emergency vet in the middle of the night to get her stomach pumped had I known about it sooner. I also know now that it’s the caffeine in chocolate that’s bad, that it gives dogs high blood pressure, and that’s what can sicken or kill an older or less healthy dog instead of some poisonous ingredient.

I also know to hide my stash a lot better than hubs because a Beagle who snarfs up my emergency chocolate is going to go down. All the way to Chinatown.

It’s Self-Love Day!

No, not like that. Get your minds outta the gutter! Sheesh, you people.

No, today is the day we celebrate Hilly’s now four-year-old creation and remember to love ourselves.  You really can’t love someone else fully if you don’t love yourself.  Since today is the commercially mandated day to celebrate love, shouldn’t we take the time out to remember what we love about ourselves?

Here’s how it works:

1.) You’re gonna grab yourself a banner. You can find both versions here.

2.) You’re gonna post that banner and then tell us all something that you really like love about yourself (thus, the “self-love” portion of our program).

3.) Ask or beg your readers to post one thing that they too love about you!!! If your blog friends are nice, you shouldn’t have to beg…much.

4.) Enjoy yourself and spread the love by doing this on your blog! If you want to, drop Hilly and me a line or a trackback so that I know you participated too!

**I would post a banner if I could, but one of the things I love about myself is my tendency to jump into things I’m not so comfortable with and try to figure out how they work by myself.  Sometimes that works out just great.  I’ve made some great cakes experimenting with things that aren’t generally accepted cake building materials like copper pipe and Kydex.  Sometimes it’s a little less successful.  In messing around in my databases last night I broke my ability to upload photos, hence no banners for me until further notice.  Either way, though, whether my adventures are successful or not, I always learn something.  I love learning new things.

I think that’s why I have so many hobbies, it’s the love of learning that keeps me seeking out new horizons.  It keeps my mind busy and vibrant, and I am firmly convinced that when you stop learning you stagnate and eventually die.  Maybe not physically, but spiritually.  It’s very important to me.

So!  It’s your turn!  In the comments I want you to write something you love (or like) about me and I will reply with something that I love about you.  Keep the love in your hearts today, but don’t forget to love yourself first.

**updated to add that my uploading capability is fixed thanks to someone who is much smarter about these things than I am!  Thanks so much to my talented friend.

I’m just going to say it.  I’ve been struggling.

These past couple of months have been hard, in several different ways that I’m not going to talk about because I’m not a sharer like that.  It’s enough that they have been hard.

My struggle hasn’t so much been with the parts that have been hard, but with the dilemma of how to react to them in ways that would make them not be so hard now and in the future.  One of those reactions has involved what to do with this space, because clearly I’m not using it effectively anymore, if I ever did at all.

Things are changing.  I’m changing.  Again.  Well, I should say still because the one thing that is always constant is change, right?  I have toyed with the idea of just stopping with the blog, but that doesn’t seem to be the right thing.  I’ve done that before and missed it terribly.  So I will continue in this sporadic, maybe even somewhat anemic, fashion until things become more clear.

But I need to step away from a few things.  I am in this mood to circle my wagons, to draw my few close peoples very close around me, and hunker down in a cave for a while.   Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned lately it’s who my friends really are.  And also that I have reached a zero tolerance level for bullshit and facades.

I don’t know why I feel compelled to even make this statement, other than the fact that when people disappear for a while without some sort of notice it never goes well upon re-entry.

Not that I plan on disappearing, per-se.  Just that I plan to not be around as much.  I am limiting my online time because there’s no internet connection in the middle of the cave, yo.  I’ll still be reading, I’m just going to be quieter about it because lately I don’t have a lot to say, and what I do have to say right now is not always what people want to hear.

So I’ll be here, sometimes.  The rest of the time I’ll be working out my shit.  Send me an email or catch me on Twitter or Facebook.

Lately it seems like the Universe is amusing itself by seeing how far it can push me until my head explodes into a million tiny bits.  It appears that when you decide to pursue a path of acceptance and peace, the universe says “Oh, yeah?  Wait til you get a load of THIS!”

Then the Universe throws a ball of poo at you.

Maybe not actual poo, but it still stinks just the same.

And you say, “Ok, Universe.  I got your pooball, and I’m just going to put it over here in the toidy for you.  I know that’s where you meant to put it, instead of on me, and I’m going to help you out.”

So then the Universe rings your doorbell, but when you open the door no one is there.  Except that you smell something and you look down and this time the universe has left a flaming bag of poo on your doorstep.

And you shake your head and say “Oh that Universe is such a silly prankster.  What are we going to do with him?”  And you get out the fire extinguisher from behind the wood stove, where maybe it’s not such a good idea to store it, and you put out the flaming poo bag because at least you were smart enough not to stomp on it.

And then you go sit down and listen to the plinky-plinky music while sipping your hot cocoa and you hear this noise.  beep…beep…beep……beep…beep…beep

And you look out your window and that silly, prankster Universe is backing up a dump truck full of poo, and proceeding to dump it in your front yard.

And all of your friends and neighbors come by and shake their heads and wrinkle their noses and say, “Wow, that’s a great big pile of poo.”  And you say, “Why yes, Captain Obvious.  Yes it is a big pile of poo.  Thank you for admiring my poo because it is a mighty poo.”

And everyone leaves except your bestest friend in the whole wide world, the one who would never leave you alone with the poo, and you stand in the yard and try to figure out what you’re going to do with this much poo.

And you hope that the Universe will be distracted by watching you shovel the poo into wheelbarrows enough that he won’t want to bring more.  Because you think that next time he might bring a trebuchet, or maybe a canon, or some other creative poo-delivery device, and you might just have enough poo already, thank you very much.

I came home from work the other day to find hubs alternately fuming and scratching his head in confusion.

“Just check the answering machine.”

This is Waste Management.  Our records show that your service does not include the type of can you are using and you need to call us at 1-800-DOU-CHEY to change your level of service.  Our service technician took the amount of garbage you are paying for and left the rest.

What?

According to hubs, what he really did is root through my trash, take a couple of bags and leave the rest.  Which leaves me with this look on my face kind of like this ?????????? and also WTFuuuuuuuucckkkkkkkahhhhhhh???

Were I a garbage collector who was pissed that I didn’t get a tip at Christmas, (because let’s face it, we’ve had this same can and this same level of service for FOUR years – it’s not news) I wouldn’t take the time to get out of my truck, paw through a can full of garbage, take what I want, and leave the rest.  I’d write a note and stick it on the can to call customer service for an upgrade, and either pick it up this time or not at all.  This?  Was just weird.

We bought our house from my father-in-law.  When we transferred the utilities into our name we just kept the same level of things and didn’t pay much attention to it.  We bought our own large, green can because the ones he had were at the end of their lives and we’re weird about having garbage cans whose bottoms are falling out.  It has been exactly the same for four years.  The garbage man even stuck a Waste Management sticker on the can two years ago about the direction it needs to point on the curb.  Suddenly we have a pissed off conscientious garbage collector with an axe to grind a list and he’s checking it twice?

That’s fine.  I don’t mind paying for the service I’m getting, I just had no idea that I wasn’t for the last four years.

So I called the customer service at the Waste Management and I talked to the lady about the level of service we currently have versus the level of service we need to order so that we can make the garbage go away.  Because really?  I just want the garbage to go away.  She told me that I was currently paying $11.49 a month for one 32-gallon can.  We have a something-something gallon can that is clearly larger than 32 gallons.  She rattled off this list of prices and sizes and somewhere I stopped listening because who knew there were so many options for trash?

Eventually she told me I can pay $20 a month for a 96-gallon can that they will provide, because my can is not approved and is a safety risk.  After four years of them taking it with no safety issues whatsoever.  Apparently.

But then!

She also told me that with the 96-gallon service I can also put out an additional SEVEN 32-gallon cans!

Oh reaaaalllllyyyy??

So I clarified with her what, exactly, I can put in these cans.  Yard waste?  Yep.  Does it have to be bagged?  Nope.  And it only costs me $9 more a month?

Oh it is so on like Donkey Kong!

That garbage man who got his panties all wadded up over taking my can that was smaller than the 96-gallon can that’s going to be delivered because hubs forgot to put his tip out at Christmas?  Can fuck right off when I line up Big Greenie and the seven dwarfs.  Every.  Single.  Week.

Because here’s the thing: I have a chain saw.  And a cutting torch.  And many, many sledge hammers (don’t ask).  I can make anything fit in a 32-gallon trash can.  I can cut up an entire house and fit it in 32-gallon trash cans because I am just that much of a bitch and it’s been a really bad week.

I have 65-ish trees on my property.  One died and we had to cut it down and instead of paying $30 to haul it to the dump I am going to cut that fucker up with a chain saw and load up 32-gallon trash cans.  I don’t even care that I have to buy more cans so that I have seven of them.

Principle, people.  It’s about principle.  Don’t rummage through my trash and just take a couple of bags because that’s just creepy.  Don’t be passive-aggressive .  Leave a note.  Send me a notice.  Call me in advance and say something like “We reviewed your account, and it’s not right.  We took it this time but it’s the last time until you change your service.”  I respect that.  Be professional, not a dumpster diver.

Anyone have any trash they want to get rid of?  I know a guy.

So I’m a day late with the New Years post.  I’m ok with that!  See, I don’t really make resolutions.  I look back over the previous year and what I accomplished.  I think about what I might like to accomplish this new year.

This year my list is kind of short.

I want to work on my Project 365 all year without flaking.  I’d love for all of you to join us!  The link to the FlickR group is in the Project 365 post linked above.

I want to procrastinate less, but I already started working on that last year.

I’m putting cakes on the very back burner.  I’m not saying I won’t make any at all this year, but it’s not likely unless it’s for someone I love.  Definitely no cakes for pay.  That makes me get out the crazy pants and no one likes that.

I want to read more.  I used to read constantly and now I have a stack of books on my nightstand that have been untouched for months.  Some of them have been there over a year.

I want to study things I’ve been wanting to learn instead of flopping in front of the TV.

I want to continue to choose happiness.

That’s about it.

I’m not going to make goals or blog about going on diets and drinking less and exercising more.  I may or may not do those things, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned about very publicly losing a lot of weight it’s that you feel like a giant fraud when you gain it back.  Not gunna do it again.

I feel pretty good about 2010.  I think that’s because I’m in a much better headspace than I have been the past couple of years.  I learned a lot about myself, and one of those things was that I can do a lot of things emotionally and mentally that I never before thought I could. I’m more comfortable inside my own head, and that feels pretty good.  After that?  It’s all cake.