The Soggy Blogger
I live in a soggy city. I have a soggy blog.
I'd rather be a soggy blogger than a soggy frog.


Saturday, April 12, 2003  

Spirited Away


Just returned from finally seeing Miyazaki's animated masterpiece, Spirited Away.

Bizarre and beautiful, it is definitely one to see on the large screen.

...but I definitely need to do a bit more processing before I write anything else about it.

Word of the day: divagate: (DY-vuh-GAYT), v. To wander, ramble, or drift about; hence, to digress. ("The Soggy Blogger, though she couldn't quite keep up with the film's divagating storyline, was completely captivated by Miyazaki's fanciful animation.")

posted by Anne on 6:42 PM | link


Friday, April 11, 2003  

The Fruit Cycle.


On request of a friend, I had a full numerology report done. I found out that my Expression Number is 11, my Soul Urge Number is 9, and my Persona Number is 11. Also, I am coming to the end of my first Pinnacle, and am about to enter my Fruit Cycle.

And I never would have known...

Word of the day: fugacious: (fyoo-GAY-shus), adj. Fleeting, passing quickly away. ("Had the Soggy Blogger known that her fugacious Seed Cycle days were drawing to a close, she would have prepared herself better for the fruity days to come.")

posted by Anne on 3:29 PM | link


Thursday, April 10, 2003  

Scary. Really Scary.


"Are you scared? Are you scared?" This is what the actors say to the victims at the end of each "prank" in the new SCIFI Network sick and sadistic reality show, Scare Tactics. ...OF COURSE they're scared! You would be scared, too, if you thought that a crazy man with a machete was coming to kill you. Or if you thought that you had picked up a hitchhiker who carried a human head in his duffel bag and who was about to stab you. Or if you thought that you just witnessed someone die in a medical experiment. ...Or if you had been led to believe that you had accidentally killed someone.

I am not joking. The premise of this show is to scare the living crap out of people, and then assure them that their emotional scars are oh so funny and worth it because "You're on Scare Tactics!!!" Like this makes up for the fact that for a good three minutes, you actually were convinced that you had killed another human being.

And it doesn't help that none of the victims have even heard of the show, because their segments were taped before the first episode was aired. After one "prank," in which the victims were led to believe that they were being attacked by aliens (which sounds funny, in premise, I admit...), the woman stayed in the car, cringing and crying and visibly shaking, and refused to believe that it was all...a joke. Funny. Maybe next they'll convince a mother that she's accidentally run over her own children. ("Just kidding!")

I can't believe that this show is going to last very long; I understand that there's at least one lawsuit pending, and most likely many more to come... I can't believe that it's made it this far. It is simply one of the cruelest and most disturbing things I've ever seen.

And, as if that wasn't sadistic enough, it's hosted by *shiver of disgust* Shannen Doherty...

Word of the day: dishabille: (DIS-uh-BEEL), n. The state of being poorly clothed; partial undress. ("The Soggy Blogger places a pox on the SCIFI Network, for taking no pity on the victims of "Scare Tactics," and for being mercilessly cruel to their viewers, who are forced to watch creepy Shannen Doherty in a state of horrifying dishabille.")

posted by Anne on 5:19 PM | link
 

Rave on.


I have never been to a rave, myself, and nor do I care all that much about them. But the underhanded reappearance of the RAVE act has got my proverbial undies in a bundle. (My real undies are just fine, thanks.) Keep in mind that this act also affects concerts, gallery events, etc.

Pretty sneaky, sis...

posted by Anne on 12:23 PM | link
 

Brackets.


I am going to start thinking of more situations in my life in terms of brackets. A la NCAA. My life will be one big understandable stair-step system of probable outcomes.

Inspiration for this idea comes from the handy war bracket, brought to you by the friendly folks at The Daily Show with Jon Stewart.

posted by Anne on 10:42 AM | link


Wednesday, April 09, 2003  

Rasputin Redux.


(I posted this earlier this morning, but it seems to have disappeared. Hmmm...)

Last night I tried a new beer, and this morning I regret it. Just a bit over two pints of Old Rasputin Russian Imperial Stout was enough to completely wreck me. Turn me into a blathering idiot. Even when I was safe at home, the beverage's cumulative effects seemed to increase exponentially as time went on. But did I notice? No. It got so that my ever-patient husband started writing down my half-baked ideas, disjointed thoughts, and some of my more colorful turns of phrase. I woke up this morning and found a sheet of paper filled with things like "I want a mufaletta sandwich, but I don't have a dictionary..." and "(yelling) TIRED! TIRED!".

I should have never let myself go near the computer. Let's just say that sometimes instant messaging is not a good idea, and it would behoove me to remember this in the future. I am so embarrassed.

The funny thing is, when I woke up this morning, I felt fine. Refreshed, even. No headache, nausea, sour stomach, etc. Just a very red face when confronted with the evidence of last night's "episode."

I think I'll stick to good old Guiness from here on.

Word of the day: deipnosophist: (dyp-NAHS-uh-fist), n. An adept conversationalist, especially one who enjoys conversing at a table. ("The Soggy Blogger wishes to apologize to her friend Peter, for fancying herself quite the deipnosophist last night, when in reality she was a drunken buffoon, wasting his time and littering his perfectly good evening with half-formed thoughts and way too many typos.")

posted by Anne on 2:48 PM | link


Tuesday, April 08, 2003  

Decadence.


I had an unexpected afternoon off work today, and decided that I would spend it doing only things that I like to do. No errands, no cleaning, and no way would I waste it in front of the tv. Oh, the sheer decadence of an empty spring afternoon!

I walked up to the top of the hill and watched the seagulls surf the wind. I came home and had a good hour or so of quality, uninterrupted cat time. I ate a lot of pumpkin seeds. I sat next to the speakers and just listened to music for a delightfully long stretch of time -- something I haven't done enough of since college, when I probably did too much of it.

And tonight I get to have my ritual Tuesday night hangout. An unassuming neighborhood alehouse with good friends, good food, and a bartender who always knows what beer I want, and has it at the table by the time I sit down. We've been doing this for so long, the wait staff has nicknamed our table "the profit margin."

Tuesdays are so much better than Mondays...

Word of the day: indefeasible: (IN-di-FEE-zuh-buul), adj. Not capable of being undone, taken away, annulled, or rendered void. ("The Soggy Blogger knows that some of the best things we have in this world stem from lessons learned the hard way, undiscovered truths, and indefeasible friendships.")

posted by Anne on 5:31 PM | link


Monday, April 07, 2003  

Monday Haiku


One day of seven

For laundry and muttering

Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn.



Word of the day: hebdomadal: (heb-DAHM-uh-dul), adj. Weekly; pertaining to a week or seven-day period. ("The Soggy Blogger hopes that her foul mood is merely a hebdomadal slump, and that it'll all look different in the morning.")

posted by Anne on 7:00 PM | link


Sunday, April 06, 2003  

I love this website. Currently, there's a very interesting article about GM's new hydrogen-fueled car, the Hy-wire. From the looks of it, things in the automotive industry are going to be getting pretty damn interesting in the next 10 years:

"There is no steering wheel, there are no pedals and there is no engine compartment. In fact, every piece of equipment that actually moves the car along the road is housed in an 11-inch-thick (28 cm) aluminum chassis -- also known as the skateboard -- at the base of the car. Everything above the chassis is dedicated solely to driver control and passenger comfort...
But the coolest thing about this design is that it lets you remove the entire passenger compartment and replace it with a different one. If you want to switch from a van to a sports car, you don't need an entirely new car; you just need a new body (which is a lot cheaper)."

I've gotta get me one of those! Because they have some fuel and safety issues to work out, the Hy-wire probably won't be available to the public until at least 2010... but I'm going to start saving now.

posted by Anne on 12:02 PM | link
 

A near-near death experience.


The past three or four times I've brought the nannyvan in for an oil change, my uber-mechanics, Doug and Raoul, have told me that I need to replace my windsheild wiper blades, and would I like them to take care of that for me? That would have been the simple way to go about things, but no. I will replace my own wiper blades, I decided...after all, how hard can that be? The simple answer is "not very." A more detailed answer would be, "It's really not difficult in the least, but you'd better be sure to do it correctly."

Yes, I incorrectly re-attached my driver's side windshield wiper. And, while driving 70 mph down I5 to Tacoma yesterday, the thing starts coming off. Of course it is raining, and there's lots of cars on the road, so the road-spray is getting pretty thick. As the blade section begins to separate from the wiper arm, and we are stuck with a difficult decision. Do we leave the wipers on, ensuring proper vision but risking losing the loss of the blade, or do we turn off the wipers, saving the necessary hardware but compromising our ability to see the road?

Had we the time, we could have debated this issue, but ours was a problem that required action. Using the wipers sparingly, we managed to get into the right lane and off onto the next exit -- at which point I got out of the car and discovered that, despite all my good intentions, I had installed my left wiper backwards. And we almost became highway hash because of it.

For a minute there, I thought I was seeing the bright white light that people talk about, right before you die, but it turned out to be a Ford dealership sign. Go figure.

Word of the day: discomfiture: (dis-KUM-fi-cher), n. Embarrassment, confusion; hardship. ("The Soggy Blogger's lack of mechanical skill was the cause of much discomfiture when she arrived at her brother's house, and everyone had a hearty laugh at her expense.")

posted by Anne on 10:27 AM | link
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