Eggster17

The Continuing Saga

2009-05-20T19:16:00.000-07:00

I received an email from Amazon yesterday saying, "Congratulations! We, the benevolent ones, have decided the time is almost right for you to receive the item for which we already charged you. Since you paid the ransom, we've released your Linksys KVM switch unharmed to the shipping gods."

Not really, but since I ordered the switch May 14, and the online ad read, "Usually ships within 24 hours," I foolishly thought it would be on the truck within the stated time frame. Oh, dopey me. The package is now in the hands of UPS awaiting liberation after a road trip across this great land of ours. I'll trust 'Brown' when the switch is in my hands.

I don't generally read poetry

2009-05-20T19:14:00.000-07:00

There are many metaphors and allusions in them, names of mythological divinities, meant to symbolize the subject, that I just don't understand. But, making an effort to try something new, I dug out an old book, Treasury of the Familiar, and browsed some of the great poems of the ages. It is for just this reason that I collect anthologies, those old, forgotten Reader's Digest Treasuries, compilations of all sorts. The books that used to be on every shelf to provide a tinge of the immortal on dusky evenings by the hearth. So many people are touched by poetry, it seems ignorant to ignore it altogether. One thing I've noticed, it helps to read aloud, to get the full rhythm of the words.

The only forays into poetry that I myself have taken encompass my song lyrics, and a few very entertaining e-mails. It is a mood, once begun, that lasts in my mind for a while, setting words together, arranging ideas in consonance. It's a lot of fun, and can be quite meaningful.

I often think that blogging is immaterial, my personal ignorant opinion on all sorts of subjects, without regard to the true realities of matter. Subjective likes and opinions, that change as fast as they can be revealed. But friendship and community is often defined by what we share, the peculiar joys of delight in finding a common interest. That is why I can hazard to say, for example, that I revel in the eccentricity of the words of Poe, and sweep aside the whole of Shakespeare as out of my depth. But only for this time. Hopefully, as I branch out, a tasteful appreciation of more poetry will enter into my head.

But for all the passion in poetry, it is the commonplace that struck me in my readings this week. You might enjoy it too.

What We May Live Without
Edward Lytton

We may live without poetry, music and art;
We may live without conscience and live without heart;
We may live without friends; we may live without books;
But a civilized man cannot live without cooks.

He may live without books, - what is knowledge but grieving?
He may live without hope, - what is hope but deceiving?
He may live without love, - what is passion but pining?
But where is the man that can live without dining?

Fat Buster Doctor

2009-05-19T22:20:00.000-07:00

Finally, a miracle cure for fat that really works! You are a Fat Buster Doctor and you have a high-tech anti-fat scanner that generates fat-busting codes in this online memory game. Scan your clients to find out how they broke their diets. Watch for the code. Then, punch the code into the machine exactly as it appeared. No mistakes, or your clients will gain fat. Level up to more complex fat-busting and become the top Fat Buster Doc!

See more memory games

Novocain

2009-05-02T19:15:00.000-07:00

Today's main event was an exciting trip to the dentist. I'm really reaching low when I have to talk about teeth on the blog. Maybe no one wants to hear about it, so I'll say very little. Fear Factor should have a stunt involving dentistry. It seems to top the fears of most people. I would say that my dislike of needles in any situation is pretty high on the list, leading me to stay away from dentists, dealers and doctors. But the visit today was less painful that I expected, four fillings. I've got four more coming next week.

On the subject of books, a pleasurable meander through a large second hand store in the city produced several neat things. I bought Erasmus' Praise of Folly, The Four Loves by C. S. Lewis, I'm a Stranger Here Myself by the very funny Bill Bryson and finally, Confessions of a Philosopher by Bryan Magee. Also on the shelf is a volume of poetry by Alexander Pope. Poetry isn't really my favorite, so I doubt that Pope will get read, at least not very quickly.

I can't tell if this blog is becoming boring. That is another fear, coming after heights, snakes and robbers.

The Black Hole Card Trick Revealed. Downloadable HD Movie

2009-05-01T13:51:00.000-07:00

link for download hd movie

2009-04-08T13:05:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I let the opinions of others rule my own personal space. In reality, you know, the unseen, I should ask for my Master's advice and just listen to it. But just sometimes, I think, they'll not like that. Or they would like this better. Truth is, so many times I am dissatisfied with my own inaction, it spills over into my perception of what others think. And they're not paying attention, in actuality. Isn't that strange? I try to mold myself to people who aren't even watching. I wonder if what I think they're thinking is true. Or if what I think about them would bring surprise and shock.

And then there is the thought that there's no reality, just our perceptions. Does Yahweh keep the truth from us so that we won't go insane from it? Why are we kept from knowing the future? At times, I just think I can't deal with this outcome or that event. But I have when the time came, and then it's done. All that worry for nothing. And I grew from the trouble, that's His gift. I praise Yahweh for that, at least.

2009-03-25T00:28:00.000-07:00

Amy had some choice words to say about friendships as viewed by modern society and Christian churches today. She makes the point that because our culture is oriented toward lust in such a huge way, the mindset of loving one another is viewed only as romance. Now, I've often thought about this. The quest is to develop true, deep friendship and love without letting it change into something it was never meant to be. I know a lot of people that focus entirely on marriage, and view every relationship as to how it will get them closer towards that goal. It's hard to keep from thinking that way sometimes. But putting pressure on people to play a role that they aren't meant to fill can so easily destroy the good between friends.

How to be open when someone needs you, to listen as they share their heart, to feel their hurt and help them with the everyday.

Another point that Amy makes is that being driven by a romantic goal entirely will then put unfair obligations on the person you actually do end up involved with, making them the center of the universe to the exclusion of all others. While I do think that spouses should always have the other's good in mind, I don't think it is healthy to pour all of life into the marriage, discarding friends, relatives and society for "the one." It's not healthy to isolate life around one relationship, whatever that be. Of course, our final hope is Christ, as He is the only one that truly meets our needs, and He wants us to show that quality in our lives by feeling for and deeply loving people.

Fifth Lines

2009-02-27T14:09:00.000-08:00

An ever pleasing tradition.

Perhaps, over the next year I will diligently study through these things with you that are a big part of your own faith journey.
I'm the steady 165 I've been for like 3 years, whether I like it or not.
I'd be interested to know what else you grow during the seasons.
Well done.
He said he knew Steve Howe, Leo Kottke, Al DieMieola, Paco Delucia, Ray Charles,and a host of others.
We are just waiting on summer down here - I can't wait!
I think my ambient mood temperature is on the upswing as well.
No more "up all night", rolling stones, bob dylan, beatles, aerosmith, or even the liberal hedonistic kinks.
I should be sending some more pictures pretty soon.
Most people stayed in motorhomes or cabins, but I brought a couple tents.
I helped myself to more than a few gobstoppers, fyi.
I hope that kind of equalizes things.
I associate you with the combination of all things english and the color blue.
I can't remember what all I told you in my last email.
Ah, the injustice!
I'll try and get that CD together next week, but time will tell.
From what I have read men mostly think with the left side of their brain which is the logical sequential side, and women think more with the emotional right side.
I'm glad to hear you've travelled the same path.
I hope to be working more on that also.

Revolver card trick tutorial

2009-02-27T11:08:00.000-08:00

2009-01-29T19:14:00.000-08:00

Today, when I took a break from digging in the garden to read the Superhero Journal, there was a post about a unique website. It's called 2 Do Before I Die. People are writing lists of all the crazy, mundane, tiny and big things they want to do in their lives, and telling stories about what they've already done. Two of my favorites are "Do Absolutely Nothing, by Nic" and "Meet Mr. Rogers, by Benjamin." I'll talk about Mr. Rogers on here sometime, that story made all of my childhood flash before my eyes. Anyway, I'm going to start my own list, and share them with you as I go. Here's a few to start.

Fly in a small plane over my house.
Go to a Coldplay concert.
Make someone blush.
Go on a walking tour in England.
Live in Lexington.
Build my physical endurance.
Grow corn.
See a movie outside.
Ride a horse on a beach.
Learn to pray.
Love a tenderhearted man.
Publish my photos in a newspaper or magazine.
Go to the Glastonbury Festival.
Find ever so many ways to be eccentric.
Indulge in my love of Jane Austen.
Learn to really, truly listen.
Get to know the parents of my friends.
Become an archer.
Go to a philosophy lecture.
Work in a library.

2009-01-20T19:11:00.000-08:00

I'm not really happy with the things that have been up here recently, so they went in the trash. But now we are left with a void. It's funny how art can imitate life sometimes, meaning my lack of content here reflects a somewhat dry spell in reality. Perhaps the most obvious occurence in this emptiness of enthusiasm is an absence of photography in my days just now. I've yet to figure out if this is a cause or a symptom. Don't think that I want to complain or be depressing, because nothing is seriously wrong. It's just the dreaded low feeling, when even the things that interested me before seem dull and tepid. So, I usually try some diversionary tactics, or delve into the supremely comforting stuff, like old letters, Northanger Abbey and chocolate.

There are plenty of e-mails in the box. Food in the cabinet. Sunshine in the outdoors. People that care. I'm trying to remind myself of that.

Five foods

2008-12-02T01:12:00.000-08:00

I've been tagged by Linda at Kayaksoup for a food meme. Melissa of The Traveler's Lunchbox started it all and has kept a running list of the entries.

Five foods to eat before you die!

Here's my list:

1) Toro or the fatty part of the tuna belly, served raw. I don't care if you're squeemish about eating raw fish. One taste of toro dipped in a little bit of soy sauce with a dot of wasabi will change your mind forever about sashimi.

2) Duck confit. I crave duck confit during the dark winter months. There's something about the fatty, salty, and gamey taste of a duck confit leg that's so comforting. For me it's the highlight in a dish of cassoulet.

3) Crawfish. You have to travel to New Orleans though to do this one right: A heaping plate of spicy boiled crawfish in a bar on Bourbon Street while listening to a live jazz band. I'm going to New Orleans again in January, (my first visit back since April 2003) so I hope to enjoy it again.

4) Okanagan peaches. The Okanagan region is located in the southern interior of British Columbia. It's about a four- or five-hour drive east of Vancouver. The region is famous for its wine and fruit. The peaches from this region are my favourite--the flavour is so intense and the peaches are so juicy and perfumy. It's a sensual experience. The city of Penticton even hosts a Peach Festival every August.

5) Chablis Epoisses cheese from Burgundy. I tasted some of this cheese when I was in France in July 2003 and I've never forgotten it. It's one of those cheeses that knocks your head back when you eat it. It has the lovely creamy consistency of a triple-cream brie, but the flavour is incredibly strong, like a blue or a munster cheese.

Three crap stories

2008-10-25T06:02:00.000-07:00

First two are about me and cats, last one isn't.

Years ago, when I was at uni me and a couple of the guys I regularly drank with got our student loans through a few weeks apart, so what this meant was we'd all fork out for each other, and we'd end up on week long drinking binges.

After a while on the drink, woke up one afternoon in Tommy's house, really hungover, made myself get up and started making for the toilet, feeling really nasty. Stood on something soft. Yep, cat shit. 5 seconds later I'm puking into my hands, trying to catch it and running for the toilet. So I then have to clean my own puke (which was hangover nasty stuff and vile), but I have to wash shite off my foot, and while I'm cleaning up the puke, this cat shit is smeared onto the floor right next to me.

--

Few years ago I was visiting a girl I knew fromo uni, always fancied a shot at her, so I took the chance years later to go down and visit her for a weekend. SO I get down there, and she's really let herself go, her house is manky, she's not exactly the cleanest, and I instantly regret going. But, I'm making the most of the weekend. So we're out in the back garden, where the grass, of course, isn't cut. Walk into the house and we're play fighting type thing, basically flirting, if I'm going to be there for the weekend I may as well make the most of it. I notice a smell, it's sort of like nasty fart. I assume it's her, and think nothing of it, it gets worse and worse, until I realise I've stood in cat shit out in the garden. It had the consistancy of meat paste, and it was vile. So there's me retching, putting my trainers into a plastic bag and tying it up. Mood ruined for the weekend, worst weekend ever! The trainers sat outside my back door for ages, till they dried, then I scraped em off, then put em in the washing machine. They are pristene clean now, but I still won't wear em.

--

This next one I can't vouch for being true or not.

Guy I used to work with, rugby player. Tells me about when some of his friends are down at the borders for a game. They go out on the friday night and get plastered, and the house they are staying it (I think they had it to themselves) is at the bottom of a grassy hill. So on the way home they fall/roll down this hill. One of them gets to the bottom, and decides he's fine where he is, and falls asleep. Wakes up shivering in the morning, about 9 or 10. He's shat himself. After an initial panic he realises that his mates won't be up yet. He's got an hour or so before they said they'd get up. So he goes into the house, and sneaks upstairs to the bathroom. Spends half an hour quietly cleaning up. His pants are useless. He hides them in the bog brush holder and uses the sink to try and clean up. After a while he's gotten it off himself, but the sink is a shitty mess. So he creeps out of the bathroom. Downstairs he goes, and he hears the TV on in the living room, pokes his head round the door, and looks straight in the face of an equally surprised man. It's at this point he realises this isn't the right house. Says sorry and leaves.

Is it true? I dunno!

(Um, excuse the length.)

Two stories

2008-10-23T06:01:00.000-07:00

1. Years ago, I worked on the tuberculosis floor. I was all kitted out, mask, gown the whole schmear and walked into this guy's room to bring him his meds. I went throught the airlock to see my patient buck naked smearing his shit all over the wall. I screamed, "Trevor, what the hell are you doing?" "Painting a mural, Sister." He was completely delerious with fever.

2. At my mom's 60th birthday shindig, all of my sibs (there's 10 of us) with spouses and kids are there. We're in the fanciest restaurant in my little hometown. Really fancy. Really really fancy.

My excruciatingly unmanageable 2 year old was playing quietly under the table. At this point I didn't care what he did--he was quiet, I knew where he was, he wasn't destroying anything and I could get drunk in peace.

The smell gets stronger and stronger until I catch on and investigate. In rolling around under the table, he has squished this huge turd up his back and out his collar on to his neck and face and then down his leggings into his shoes. He is covered in excrement. There isn't a single handhold on this kid that's not foul.

Husband and I took him in the men's room and tried to clean him. At the end, the bathroom was shitsmeared, all the guests using it had fled and I had a naked crappy toddler wrapped in my angora sweater. (dry clean only. The drycleaners hate me now)

Hubby and I both tipped the maitre d' 20 bucks each, we were so embarrassed.

While

2008-10-19T23:37:00.000-07:00

In the 5th form at school, I was coming home on the bus while suffering a horrible stomach bug.As the bus got to my mates stop,my bowels just decided it was time to escape as quickly as possible.I grabbed my stuff and ran out to my mate and did the charlie chaplin walk to his place while shitting myself uncontrollably.Got to his place and his mum was really nice and would you believe it washed both my trousers and my now very messy underwear and then got a lift home into the bargain...of course I was then off for a bit while i recovered...

Also when I was about 4 on holiday in spain, there was this mock wooden american fort.My parents would wonder why there was a que of kids paying me a few pesetas to look into one of the fort rooms.Turns out that I had had a shit in their and was charging the kids to have a look..
And thats not even mentioning the time my mum wanted to take home a sponge she had found on the beach while on holiday in Tunisia,I mean how were we to know it was actually camel dung.

How I spent my summer vacation

2008-09-15T18:26:00.000-07:00

This summer flew by and I have a lot of catching up to do.
We stayed at Desolation Sound Resort just south of Lund/north of Powell River and enjoyed several days of kayaking and exploring beautiful Okeover Inlet.
We would kayak for a couple of hours in the morning, stop in a cove for lunch and then kayak back to the resort. We had fantastic weather and perfect kayak conditions. We saw lots of harbour seals, schools of jellyfish and purple starfish along the inlet.
We enjoyed a healthy meal of couscous, cheese and crackers, organic veggies and cookies for lunch.
Desolation Sound is famous for its oysters and we were able to harvest these from the resort's beach and enjoy them at our cabin.
Just around the corner from the resort was The Laughing Oyster restaurant. The patio has a million-dollar view of Okeover Inlet and surrounding mountains.
After a full day of kayaking, we shared a huge seafood platter that included king crab legs, ahi tuna, halibut, salmon, prawns, oysters, scallops, and mussels with rice and veggies.
It was one of the most relaxing vacations I've ever been on and luckily Desolation Sound is only two ferry rides away from Vancouver, so I'm sure I'll be back there next year.
In other news, I've started working at a new job in a large hotel/casino/resort. This time I'm working in the garde manger (cold appetizers and salads) station and cooking staff meals. Although I love baking and pastry, it's nice to be back in the kitchen again and keep up my cooking skills.
One day old man Stumpy and his wife Martha went to the Illinois State Fair. There is this man selling plane rides in his single prop show plane for $10 per person. Stumpy looks to Martha and says, "Martha, I think I really should try that." Martha replies, "I know you want to Stumpy, but we have a lot of bills, and you know the money is tight, and $10 is $10." So Stumpy goes without. Over the next few years they return every year, and the same thing, Stumpy wants to ride, but Martha says no money.
Finally, when Stumpy and Martha are both about 70 years old, Stumpy looks to Martha, and says, "Martha, I'm 70 now, and I don't know if I'll ever get the chance again, so I just have to be naughty and have a ride in that there airplane." Martha replies in the same old fashion, and Stumpy kind of slumps down. The pilot is standing near by and overhears the conversation...
The pilot pipes up, "Excuse me folks, I couldn't help but hear your situation, and I have a deal for you. I'll take both of you up together, and if you can both make the entire trip without saying a word, or even making the slightest sound, I'll give the ride for free. But if either of you make a sound, its $10 each." Well, Martha and Stumpy look at each other, and agree to take the ride.
The pilot takes them up, and starts to do loop de loops, twists, dives, climbs and spins. No sound. The pilot lands the plane, looks back at Stumpy and says, "Sir, I have to hand it to ya, you didn't make even the slightest sound and that was my best stuff." Stumpy looks back at the pilot and says, "Well, I was gonna say something when Martha fell out, but $10 is $10!"