I need a Pop Tart*
* for certain definitions of “need”
Archive Posts (Page 41)
One time I injured my back picking up the soap I dropped in the shower, which isn’t really quite as cool as “motorcycle accident” or “hauling bails of something manly.”
Yesterday I hurt it again, and I think I’ve outdone myself. I sneezed, and my back has been killing me ever since.
This was Sophia’s idea for an easy-to-understand size comparisons for her Galilean Moon project. I thought they were pretty cool.
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Apple: “Your iCloud storage is running low. Want to upgrade?”
Me: “If I delete the 200,000 pictures of Regina Spektor Sophia has accumulated I think I’ll be fine.”
Money quote: “I attempted to reach out to the man who washes Bob Costas’ eyes for comment on the color of the drainage. It turned out there was no such man. Costas has been washing his own eyes. This is the state of things in Sochi.”
“Elizabeth Smart is speaking. Ooh, I’d give anything to go see that. Wait, $275 a seat? Never mind. I’ll buy her book.”
Facebook’s new “Paper” app is really spectacular. Fluid, elegant, intuitive, and lovely. But is there really no switch to turn off noises? I promise you I don’t want my phone to bloop when I “like” something.
Sophia’s been singing songs from Frozen constantly so I said, “I think you like Frozen better than Regina Spektor” and then she attacked me viciously and started to cry.
Here’s my Facebook movie. Just kidding. I don’t have a Facebook movie. Get a life, people.
^^^ This was a joke. I know you have a life and I’m glad you share it with me even though I didn’t watch your stupid movie.
[ed: This post is no longer funny. It is now just sadly true.]
If some link-baity web site can figure out which Partridge Family pet you are by asking you 6 questions, then just imagine how well Facebook knows you by the millions of things you’ve liked.
Some day we’ll just lean back in our chair and say, “Facebook, ENTERTAIN ME.”
Come to think of it, that may have been the theme of WALL-E.
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I’m going to make a questionnaire that tells you which “which character are you” questionnaire you are. My guess is I’m Star Wars, but maybe I’m Peanuts.
This is what happens when your 15 year old takes the PSAT.
“The war machine swings to life, opens up one eager eye.”
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On a date with my cool kid. We were going to tour the rare book room at the Phoenix library, but we were late, so we walked ASU downtown campus and had pastries instead.
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“An Axe-ident” by Sophia, modeled by her pal Allison.
Another angle. This was seriously creepy and realistic in real life. Eww.
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Oh boy if I tell Sophia Regina Spektor is on Facebook she’ll suddenly forget all her “Facebook is dumb” stuff and create an account. Mark my words. Check back in 24 hours.
Costco Lady: Do you want a box?
Me: No, I want to carry these 75 loose items to my car in one precarious tower, Cat in the Hat style. Do you happen to have a unicycle I can borrow?
Today I learned “dry shampoo” or “aerosol shampoo” is a thing. I had no idea.
Apparently I have swine flu so if you’ve read any of my posts in the last couple of days, be on the lookout for symptoms.
I love how my Facebook feed turns to all Japanese at three in the morning. Ohayō my Yūjin.
While I was at the DMV with Isabel to get her permit, I decided to go ahead and get a new license. It was probably time for an update. (Ok, truthfully the DMV person got a little mad at me for my ridiculously old license and told me I have to replace it every 6 years. See you in another 20 years, suckers.)
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The strange numbering system they use at the MVD means I don’t know if we will be served in 2 minutes or 2 hours. Anybody have a decoder ring?
SNORE.
How can Facebook possibly have time to implement self-playing scroll-stuttering videos but not have time to get flash-less html video working on the web. Priorities, Zuck. Priorities.
If it were -40° in Phoenix, really, half my Phoenix native friends would just drop dead immediately. They put coats on when it’s 65° here and break out the scarves and gloves for the 50s.
Today my parents celebrate their 50th anniversary. Pretty spectacular. Here’s to 50 more mommy and papa.
I can’t wait to show you all what Sophia is making for her teacher for a baby gift. But I have to wait because it is not done. It is so cool.
Some day someone is going to invent an inbound call system for busy times that is more data efficient than me listening to hold music and marketing messages at 8Kbps so that an audio signal can inform me that they are ready to talk to me.
This conversation took place entirely via the Chase Bank “Secure Message Center”:
Me: “I would like to close this account. I couldn’t find a way to do that on line.”
[2 days later]
Chase: “You cannot close an account on the web site. To close your account, call [phone number], send a letter to [address], or make the request via the Secure Message Center™ on line.”
Me: “I would like to close this account.
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One time when the girls were little they flew home from their Grandma’s house by themselves. I told them the flight attendant would keep an eye on them the whole time and then send us a behavior report.
A few years later Isabel asked me (somewhat skeptically) what the behavior report said because they had tried so hard to be good.
She looked scandalized when I told her I was lying.
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Me: “Hey Sophia, no freaking out.”
Sophia: “That’s my worst subject.”
Little old lady at the grocery when she sees my candy sprinkles: “You must have a wife or girlfriend who is making cookies and sent you on an errand.”
Eh, close enough.
When Isabel was in kindergarten, they had a quiet, sweet friend who wore a head scarf. Her mother and sister wore them too. I remember I was always impressed that she kept it in place and clean despite the rigors of childhood. One day as we were driving through the neighborhood streets, we saw this beautiful family walking on the sidewalk, so we pulled over to say hello. As we slowed down, the mother gathered her two children close, turned her back and braced herself—for what, I can only imagine.
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Mamie’s first semester back in school. In case you know me and you’ve always wondered where Isabel gets it. Ok, I’ll stop bragging now. Not really.
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Biscuits for our traditional finals week “power breakfast” egg sandwiches. Mmmm, flaky layers.
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I don’t really know what to think of this except that it gave me that unsettled sense when some otherwise-normal thing is just a little bit weird.
Kind of like you feel when you type this sentence:
“we were arrested after dad ate deer eggs”
Go ahead and type it now. I’ll wait.
Sophia: “I put sugar snap peas in my lunch.”
Me: “What about sugar snap q’s?”
Sophia (without missing a beat): “Well, they say you have to mind your P’s and Q’s so I just took peas because I don’t want to have to keep an eye on them all day.”
I just set up a consultation meeting with a new client. And then after I hung up I looked him up and he is actually with a company that is one of the worst dead-beat clients we’ve ever had. He must be new. Now I get to decide how professional I should be. I can:
A: Cancel the meeting and explain that we refuse to do business with them.
B: Skip the meeting and laugh at him when he calls wondering where I am.
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Sophia: “What book is that?”
Isabel: “Because of Winn Dixie.”
Sophia: “Oh, I love that book!”
Me: “You know why I love that book?”
Sophia: “Why?”
Me: “Because of Winn Dixie.”
OH MY GOSH MY KIDS ARE SO LUCKY I’M THEIR DAD.
What a lovely, eye-opening, and exciting XKCD.
Vincenzo made homemade marinara atop perfect pasta with a sprinkling of parmigiana. Mamie made a refreshing light salad with lemon vinaigrette. Mediterra Bakery made the always-awesome bread. Sophia made an epic apple pie. And then we had a lovely dinner with my parents. Such a nice night.
Sophia: “If you need me I’ll be outside waiting for Vincenzo.”
[1 minute later]
Sophia: “I got cold.”
So the other day I honked at a guy who was taking too long to realize the light was green, and then when he pulled away I realized I wasn’t in gear, and it took me a bit to get going. Just thought I should confess.