Oh, my stars and garters!

Well, the name should have been the first clue.

Texas AG charges Conn's with 'deceptive sales tactics'

Hee hee hee, get it? Terrible name aside, those stores always give me a scummy vibe, like a half step up from a rent-to-own furniture store.

Sotomayor

This glowing article makes the new supreme court nominee sound like a total badass. I feel kind of bad for all the other reporters who must have written equally exhaustive profiles of the other candidates on the short list to be ready for today just in case.

Big phoney

Mr. Krotpong aka Mr. My Really Awesome Husband Guy got me a very fine birthday present this year, which we picked up yesterday.

I would have taken this terrible comparison photo of my old phone and new phone with the new phone, but one of the many things it cannot do is take photos of itself. It also cannot perform oral sex, bake a lemon cake, or support multimedia messages, unless there are apps for those things that I just haven't found yet.

It can do a whole lot of other stuff, though, and as you can see, it was about time for an upgrade. Those old Nokia phones simply will not die, they're the product of a deal with the devil or something, so if you're waiting for yours to break so you can justify a new one, forget it. You're stuck. Forever. Unless of course someone gives you a cool new phone and you are forced to abandon your old one. The end, and also yay.

I thought I was hallucinating.

The streets downtown were closed for some stupid beshitted triathlon later this morning but I guess they didn't figure any unwitting shift workers would be leaving the parking garages on any of those closed streets at 5:30 in the morning on Memorial Day. So that's how I got trapped into driving the entire empty race route for twenty minutes trying to find a way out to the interstate until I finally flagged down a city worker and got him to move some barricades for me. A stellar end to a stellar night in a stellar weekend of a stellar week. I'm crabby. Even beer isn't helping this time.

Ok, I'm back.

But only because something really cool happened: Jo's cardinal babies are leaving the nest, one week after they hatched. She graciously gave me permission to post a week's worth of baby cardinal development:

May 13. Just hatched.

May 15. With wings.

May 17. With bigger wings, plus eyes.

May 18. Mom comes to visit.

May 19. Dad takes a crack at it.

May 20. I'm going out. Just OUT, okay? Jesus! I NEVER ASKED TO BE BORN IN THE FIRST PLACE.

And that is the beautiful story of the cardinal family, the end. All pictures by Jo Stanli W.

Now I go back into my hole.

This blog is canceled for a few days.

All I am doing is working, and that is really boring.

I get an F in carrots

Ten weeks, some fertilizer, and countless waterings later, this seems to be the best my carrots can do. I mean, they're baby carrots; they're not supposed to get huge, but this is ridiculous. This one didn't even taste very good. I think I should give the rest of them a little longer, but I'll be mad if I've been pouring precious water on something that doesn't even have the decency to get plump and tasty in return.

And no, these aren't the office carrots. I had to take those home because they got infested with fungus gnats. Later the seedlings died in the sun. Even though I love it, maybe gardening is not really the hobby for me.

Cheep thrill

Picture by Jo W.!

My friend and colleague Jo was happy when she saw a cardinal had built a nest in a branch below her balcony a couple of weeks ago. The eggs just hatched today, and she said I could post the picture to mark the occasion. So I did. Hi, guys!

Help

I am still at work and I will never get to leave. Never ever never. Ever never.

Update, 8:06 a.m.: I lied. I got off an hour ago and now am drinking a beer am taking this opportunity to see which parts of the garden get the best morning sun. Except it's sort of cloudy. I'll have to content myself with secretly rolling my eyes at the neighborhood joggers instead.

The funniest thing about having to work all night is how acutely the entire incoming day shift smells of shampoo and fabric softener after I've been cultivating my personal funk for 15 hours. What are these good, clean smells I detect? They frighten me; I must flee into the humid, exhaust-fogged sunrise!

Update, 8:42 a.m.: God, are there always this many birds in the morning? Shut up, you bastard birds!

I think I should go to bed.

Everything you are doing right now is ruining something.

Hey, Lonely Planet? Stuff it. Weaselly disclaimer about the global benefit of travel aside, you'd be out of business in about two seconds if everyone really heeded your warnings, because then they would simply stop flying altogether instead of throwing a few mitigatory bucks at the suggested offset website. (A website that redirects to "jpmorganclimatecare.com," by the way. I guess "climatecare.org" sounds more cuddly.)

This little passage annoyed me way more than it should have, but really, when I buy a travel guide I just want to know how to take the train from the airport and where to get cheap lunch. I don't want a lecture.

It was partly the underlying hypocrisy and sanctimonious tone that set me off, but I'm also mad because it made me feel so defensive. 

I think it's good to be aware of how the things we do affect things on a larger scale, and I think it's good to remind people of that and offer practical ways to contribute. But when I get bombarded, ambushed even, with this stuff all the time, and especially in that tone--you know that tone, this isn't worst I've seen, either, not by far, but it's still that same goddamned tone--it makes me feel tired and discouraged and cynical. And I'm pretty receptive to the message in the first place. There are ways to encourage people to change their behavior without making them feel like evil destructive shitbags, and I think those ways are more effective.

Whew. This turned out to be about more than just a few innocuous paragraphs about the environmental impact of air travel. But honest, honest and for true, I can worry about my carbon footprint without the help of some silly travel book. Which was made out of bleached dead trees. Which was brought to the store on a giant truck. Which would release a number of toxins into the atmosphere if I were to set it on fire. See? I can't win.

Backyard series

Earlier today there was a gospel concert at a church not far from my house. The soloists sounded kind of overwrought and cheesy, but the choir smoked. Then the ice cream truck came tinkling through the neighborhood about 10,000 times. Now there's a party at the park a few blocks away with a hired band. The musicians must be drinking along with the guests. An hour and a half ago the singing was crisp and competent, then it got kind of off-key and pathetic, and now all I can hear is this bass-driven mournful, atonal mewling with no real breaks between what I guess are supposed to be songs.

I have to go back outside now because it's hilarious.

Breakfast Song

Get out your immersion blender
We're going on a smoothie bender

Fruit and yogurt and some honey
Smoothies do not cost much money

Put on some pants and lose that frown
We'll take the train to Smoothietown

Owl cams

1. The Estonian Ornithological Society presents a tawny owl nest. They're getting big and are actually about to bail, I think, but you can look back on their progress with archived screen shots and clips.

2. Some guy in my neighborhood presents a screech owl nest. The quality is not as good as the Estonians', but I drive by this house every day, so it's of local interest, and as a bonus I get to seethe with jealousy that no owls ever moved into our stupid old owl house. Maybe we should move it to a better location, although I think the barred owls that hang out behind the house have scared the little guys off for good.

3. Owl cams are awesome.

4. Yes, they are.

Today's walk

Across the street from the elementary school.

This picture looks so simple, but really it tells a very sad story. A story about how I was standing on the wrong side of the taco door. The end.

So many wonderful things have been done in the name of Boogers. It's high time someone recognized it.

It's working! It's working!

O, yes, my minions! Kneel before my god-like ability to produce tomatoes! (Or at the very least slightly incline your head toward the general direction of my mortal-like ability to remember to water the garden every other day.)

 So, yeah, we have a few tiny sungold cherry tomatoes, with dozens more blossoms to come. Kristy even named this one: Tiny Tom. If you have anything that needs naming, I suggest you consult her first. She will hook you up with a name that is always completely accurate and occasionally delightfully alliterative.