docoflove1974

I'm waiting for some British army general to burst in saying, "ohl-rite, that's it...this is entirely too silly."

Eh, it depends. My guess is that you weren't the first or last to pull those stunts on her, and she just wised up. Or something to that effect. The joys of teaching in the collegiate system is that I don't have to worry about that. The first day of class I admit that I'm a smartass, and like to inject humor into the lessons when possible, including making ridiculous sentences. But there's a line, and I have zero fear of telling them when they've crossed it. Thankfully it doesn't happen often...one of my best friends says it's my penchant for wearing red and 3" heels on the first day of class...I say it's the evil eye I throw around when needed.

Indeed you have. The next time I see a trolley in a ditch, I'll treat it with care, maybe even throw some more dirt around it. I truly suspect that a dirty trolley is a happy trolley.

From the other side of the teacher's desk... I love it when my students try to talk to the various native Spanish speakers in the area...they're proud of the work they've done in class, and they want to show off. The difference, of course, that most Hispanic cultures are welcoming when someone tries to speak their language. They slow down their speech for the gringo, clean up the enunciation, and try to do the best they can. My students come back with the stories. "You won't believe it! We went to the Mexican place down the street and I ordered for everyone in Spanish! The waiter was so cool...he helped me a couple of times with pronunciation, but it went so well! I did it!" Although...and I'll never know the truth...I secretly wonder if the patience and smiles are genuine. I suspect it is, but having experience with other not-so-enthusiastic peoples, well, one never knows.

You rock, Mr. Moonlapse. Thanks a ton!

Wow...I never knew that trollies were so compatible with the urban ditch soil. The communal nature I reckoned, given that they are constantly around their mates in parking lots and in stores. Fascinating study, Prof. Caldrail.

Oooh I love green chili, but have never made it. I usually make a red chili, using dried Hatch and Guajiro chilis to make the red sauce. I'd love a green chili recipe, though!

At the very last meeting of my Monday night class last semester, we got talking about food. One student was having issues with lasagna...loved to eat it, hated to make it because she didn't really know what to do. Evidently, she was raised on Stoffer's, not on fresh. I said I often make it when I have people coming over, and she asked for the recipe. I chuckled...my 'recipe' for lasagna is done on the fly, much like my 'recipes' for minestrone, spaghetti sauce, chili, and a few other soups. I know what I want in there...the measurements are 'whatever looks right'. But, she asked, so I figured I'd have to make a pan of lasagna with the intention of writing down the recipe. (My mother, by the way, HATES this...she wants to know how I do things, and my only response is, "uh, well, you know, when it looks right...when it tastes right." She's a great cook--and a great teacher--but doesn't trust herself to not follow a recipe save for a couple of things. She really could do it, but she wants the comfort of a recipe. Me? Yes, I have plenty of recipes and cookbooks, but a lot of what I do is creative process, most of the time tasting pretty good.) I've been telling everyone around here for a week: Saturday night I'm making a lasagna, c'mon over. Bring anything you want...I got the entree. Most people said they'd be around, and would come on over. No sweat...people over, brisk winter evening full of comfort food and wine (well, for me). Sun rises on a gorgeous Saturday morning...and I'm starting to get retractions. "Aw, man, something came up..." "Sorry, dude, I promised...." blah blah blah. Eh, to hell with them. I'm making the lasagna, I'm writing down what I do, and anyone who misses is going to be lacking some damned good food. (To be fair, my lasagna has the flavor, but it always gets a little watery. But, hey, it's damned tasty. Work in progress, my friends.) So, tonight, Bella and I enjoyed a night to ourselves...not one soul over here. Ok, Bella didn't get any lasagna (although she was the sweetest begger you ever saw when I was opening cans of tomatoes and tomato paste). And now I have most of a pan of good stuff left over...yikes! So, uh, anyone want lasagna?

I really have to figure out a way to re-package my skills to get gubmint munies like that. Also: he's not exactly doing much to dispel the shoe-size/other-appendage myth, is he?

If you push a shopping trolly in a ditch, will it burrow deep and sprout? Or will it just lie about like a bum?

Amen, brother. We misunderestimated, unmisunderstood, undiscombobulated folk need to band together and fight the good fight. Solidarity, brother!

Awwwwwww...pretty name for a pretty kitty!

I'm constantly being misunderestimated...it's really annoying. Of course, at some point I hope to be simply underestimated, and then I'll be able to shine for the star that I am. Nope, that doesn't work...*sigh* President Obama isn't going to give Dave Letterman nearly as much fodder.

Imagine this: you're a kitty, one who loves to play and spazz out while chasing anything, including your own tail. The first year or so of your life you have a big house in which you can run around, not to mention free reign of the gardens and the wild field behind the house. It's fun! (Well, when you're not being chased by the big bad bruiser Peanut, the older female feline who runs the place.) Life's pretty good. Then your owners decide to move, and they can't take you with them. But there's good news: you get to live with the owner who you love the best, or at least the one who will pay the most attention to you and who will cuddle you. She takes you away to an apartment...not so much room to play in, but at least you can look outside and chatter at the squirrels and birds. Sometimes she lets you go outside, but only if you have a stupid harness on...she's afraid you're going to run away if startled. Ok, she's probably right, but still. Eh, at least you get to go outside...when SHE wants. Ladies and gentlemen, I present: Bella, my cat. I felt really bad for her today. It's warm outside--got up to 73'F again today. It's brilliantly sunny, nary a cloud in the sky. The birds were out in full force, fooled into thinking that spring had sprung about 2 months too early. Poor Bella wanted out today in the worst way. She was aching to go out, run around in the backyard, watch the wildlife all around her, sniff the plants outside...she wanted to be free! The problem? Well, I couldn't go out and play. I had to do laundry in the morning, finish cleaning the apartment, and then was meeting a friend at the museum downtown. Bella wasn't having any of it...she was running around like a total spazz, then pacing around the back door and crying, pleading with me to open the door. She even started pacing around the CD tower where her harness is located. Alas, it did her no good...we still didn't go outside. She was not a happy kitty. On the other hand, when I came home from the museum, I brought my friend in; Wanda loves cats, and while she had heard stories of Bella, she had never 'met' her. And while Bella is normally a rather skittish cat around new people, she took to Wanda quickly, and even rolled over for a belly rub. Strange sight of the day As I was walking the 15 or so blocks from my apartment to the museum, I heard the railroad bells a'ringing...here comes a train. Part of the Southern (or is it Union?) Pacific line runs through downtown San Jose, along my route to the museum. So we all stop to wait...only to see the shortest train I guess one could get. It was just the engine and a tanker car. I couldn't help but chuckle.

About the only positive element to Mondays is that "Top Gear" is on at night. That's usually about it for me. I do hope your back feels better. Those things are never fun. The worst is having to sneeze or cough with a busted back.

Happy birthday, Neil! Don't listen to sonic (he's just jealous that he doesn't get so many presents at once!), and instead have a wonderful day!

Yep...Hezbollah and Hamas are kindred spirits, and they figured that if Isreal's tied up with the happenings in Gaza, then Hezbollah could do a little rock throwing of their own. I'm not saying that Israel is a sleeping giant, but they sure as hell aren't meek sheep. They've proven this before, and are in the process of proving it now.

The theory being spread over here is that Israel figured it had to do something about Hamas whilst Dubbya was still at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, that Mr. Obama wouldn't tolerate such shenanigans. I dunno about this...it's possible, I guess. Sometimes I wonder if things are so childlike as that...occasionally my wonderings are proven to be accurate.

I think the English weather came to the Bay Area. Cold, dreary...that mist that isn't really rain, yet you have to use your wipers. It's not supposed to freeze tonight, but it'll still be crisp. I really hope that things clear out...I hate this misty crap.

Heheh sounds like here...after yesterday's rain (of which San Jose only got a trace...but plenty of clouds and mist), today it's gloriously sunny, nary a cloud in the sky. Then again, it's a quarter to 10 in the morning, and has yet to break 50'F...which I'm waiting for so that I can clean the windows and help Bella run around outside. She woke me up this morning because she heard the birds chirping away...bless her heart, she wanted to go out and play. Had to show this to you: Something to make the Top Gear boys drool (and many of the rest of us!)

I feel your pain, my friend...a few weeks ago when Mr. Freeze decided to come to Northern California, my heater was starting to think that it was time to leave on vacation. Thankfully my landlord knows the heater well, and coerced it to stick around for a while longer. MORE BLANKETS FOR MR. CALDRAIL!! STAT!!!

I've been doing much better as the day goes on...thanks for the well-wishes. Gee, another excuse for being lazy today! (Sadly, the Penn State/USC game isn't panning out to what I was hoping for. I was really hoping that Penn State would be able to keep it close, if not beat the Rubbers (as a friend of mine is calling them). Alas, there goes my afternoon enjoyment.

Very cool video! That's really imaginative...wonder how 'they' came up with that idea? I think there's something relaxing about sitting and philosophizing with a drink or two. Ok, maybe it's just reading sometimes, but it relaxes you, and I think it let's your mind wander. Maybe that's really what's going on. Either way, enjoy!

Thanks, you two! As for the rest of my birthday, um, yeah, see the blog I just posted...oh well!

Let me tell you, folks, I had plans! First, a great steak dinner (NY Strip steak, medium rare, with sauteed green beans and a great pinot noir), followed by meeting up with neighbors for either one of two ideas: 1) hang out in the backyard bar area and be stupid drunk; or 2) go to the Japantown festivities and be stupid drunk. Either way, I had 2 bottles of Asti chilling, plenty of other potent potables to quench my thirst...to be surrounded by friends (both 'old' and 'new') to celebrate the bithday and upcoming new year. Sounds wonderful, right? Um, yeah, it was wonderful...but never happened. Well, not for me. The last few days I've been attending the Modern Languages Association convention in SF, and noticed on Tuesday that I had a tickle in my thoat. Not really sore, but something there. I purposely went to Trader Joe's and stocked up on orange juice and cherry cider, did mild workouts followed by time in the sauna...really tried to not get sick. Alas, my friends, it was to no avail. Yesterday afternoon that tickle turned into a mild sore throat. No worries...if I could just hold off until tomorrow with the full-blown whatever-this-is, hey, I could at least enjoy the evening. But by 6pm my head was pounding, my body aching, and I could feel the congestion in my chest start to build. Ok, I still have my appetite, so I cooked the dinner I wanted, but instead of wine I opted for a hot toddy; that should help me feel better, right? Um, nope. By 7:30, I had a 102'F fever, was constantly cold, and felt like utter and complete crap. Yes, folks, I was sick. Even poor Bella knew I was not feeling well; along with cuddling next to me, my little feline nurse kept sniffing and licking my face, trying to get me to feel better. I had to call my neighbor upstairs to tell him to go on and party without me...no way in hell was I going to leave my bed, save to make another toddy or to use the bathroom. Now here's the interesting part: ginger is a miracle drug. See, my neighbor upstairs is a professional bassist, and has played for numerous wonderful musicians. He knows of various wonderful remedies which at first might sound hokie, but turn out to work. The one he told me last night was of a ginger infusion (well, that's what it is...he didn't know the infusion part). It really works: it reduces the fever, it calms your body, and you feel better. You don't feel 100%, but at least you can be managable. More importantly, you'll feel much better the next morning. Now, I know that ginger does have a calming property for the digestion. It's used in parts of Asia as both a palate cleanser and a digestif; if you have stomach ailments, a ginger tea is often brewed. It works much like chamomille in that way. But, hey, why not? Here's what you do: take at least 2 good sized fingers of ginger, peel and cut into small dice. Put it into a pot of water (about 4 cups), and boil for an hour. Then mash the ginger in the water...you need to extract every ounce that you can; strain and reserve the liquid. Now you have your ginger infusion: make a cup of tea with half of ginger infusion, half regular water (chamomille works really well), a slice of lemon if you wish. Not only does the ginger infusion seem to help your throat (I didn't cough but once or twice while drinking this stuff, unlike before), but it's a restorative elixir. Seriously, within an hour my fever had already reduced by a full degree, and I could feel the fever start to go away the rest of the night. This morning I woke up (after sleeping 10 hours) with only the congestion in my chest. I'll take that, trust me. Ok, so I'm pretty phegmy today, but I've never been bothered by that. My body doesn't ache, my fever is gone, and for all intents and purposes, I'm almost at 100%. Ginger infusion works!!!