2 flavors of Kindle: I got the 3G!

I’m a simple geek with simple needs. Keep me in technology, and I’m a happy girl. My latest geek fulfillment is the Amazon Kindle 3G eBook reader. It comes in graphite and white; I picked graphite. I’ve already loaded it up with stuff that lets my nerd flag fly, like all the academic-type books I got for free from the Amazon Kindle Store. I have books of fairy tales from all over the world and Spanish language learning books. I also have some Jane Austen, Edgar Allan Poe, the New Yorker magazine, and even (GASP!) a romance novel. The Kindle Store offers lots of freebies, and not just books that are public domain. There are even some current releases.

I’m delighted with the screen resolution. Even in the garish light of my office I can read the text on the screen. Oh, you don’t think that’s much of a test of how good the Kindle’s screen resolution is in bright light? I sometimes think I can get a suntan in the glare of the fluorescents. I certainly get a headache from them everyday, but, by golly, I can read the New Yorker on my Kindle! I’ll test it in sunlight next, but I expect the readability will not suffer. Here it is in the more humane lighting of my living room:

Mansfield Park by Jane Austen

You can adjust the text size, line spacing, and words per line. You can also change the screen orientation (portrait or landscape) and choose whether the in-document menu appears at the bottom or top of the screen. My Kindle, in the picture above, shows the default bottom-of-screen setting. I made the text bigger because I’m getting old and have crummy vision. The Kindle also sports a text to voice tool that lets you choose to listen to books instead of reading them (there’s a handy headphone jack at the bottom of the device).

The navigation took some getting used to. After all the time I spend with my Droid, I found using buttons to navigate a device to be a little awkward. I kept trying to select items from the menus, or turn pages, by touching or swiping them on the screen (something to look into, Amazon). I also confuse the Menu button with the Home button. My intent is to return to the list of books (Home), but I keep pressing the wrong button and ending up with the Kindle’s settings menu–which flies out on the side of the screen–rather than my book list. I actually found the four-way toggle a bit easier to remember how to use, though I can’t explain why. My brain works in strange and mysterious ways.

Kindle keyboard

I also have a little trouble jumping to places in a book or magazine, confusion I could have avoided by reading all of the very well-written and well-presented start up guide. You’d think I’d validate the hard work of my fellow technical writers by reading every last word of the start up guide before playing with my toy, but no. I scanned it for things I immediately wanted to know, just like most users. The start up guide is the first thing that appears on the Kindle’s screen when you switch it on out of the box (it comes to you charged), but just in case you prefer a more tactile version of the guide, a lovely accordion-shaped one made out of recycled paper is tucked into the box the device comes in. I really like the guide’s design. It’s pretty. Want to see it? Behold!

Kindle start up guide cover

Open Kindle start up guide

The paper version is much shorter than the electronic version, but I’m still kind of enchanted by the paper one. Id’ say I’m old fashioned, but I’m reading books on an electronic device. No wait, I’m also reading dead tree books at the same time. So…only sort of old fashioned? Hmm…

Anyway, I’m getting used to the navigation with help from the New Yorker, which I’m enjoying enormously. You get a 14-day free trial on magazines before buying them, which is pretty neat. It encourages me to try magazines I wouldn’t ordinarily buy online because I don’t want to pay for a subscription to something I’m not sure I’ll like. The New Yorker I like, and quite right, too. It’s an amazing publication, renowned for it’s brilliant writing and clever cartoons. It’s great lunch break reading. I’ll definitely subscribe.

Speaking of things from the Kindle Store, I’m extremely impressed with the download speed over Amazon’s Whispernet, both at home and at work. It’s almost instantaneous. Everything I download should download so quickly. The 3G wireless is amazing! I’m tickled to pieces with it, and the best part is, it’s free!

I also downloaded the Kindle app for Android, and the download to my phone is just as fast as to my Kindle. The interface is attractive and easy to use. Also, I can page turn by swiping the screen, like I’m used to doing. Sure, my Droid doesn’t have the battery life of my Kindle (a day vs. a month), but it’s nice to know that next time I’m stuck waiting in my doctor’s office I can read one of my Kindle books on my Droid. (For you iPhone users, there is, of course, a Kindle app for the iPhone.)

Green leatherette Kindle case

Isn’t that Kindle case pretty? It comes in a bunch of fashionable colors, including black, which is always in fashion. I went for green because, well, I sort of always do. I don’t know if you can tell from the photo, but even with the Kindle inside, it’s really thin. That’s the other great thing about the new Kindle: It’s thin and extremely light, clocking in at just 8.7 ounces and the width of a pencil (specifically, it’s dimensions are: 7.5″ x 4.8″ x 0.335″ with a 6″ diagonal screen). In fact, when I was reading the New Yorker on the Kindle at lunch today, I nearly took the thing out of the case because the case was almost heavier than the Kindle! It is lovely how it can just slip into the outside pocket of my favorite purse and be toted anywhere with ease.

The one thing I can’t figure out is how to get the eBooks I saved on my computer eons ago onto my Kindle. It claims to be able to read PDFs, so once I transfer the eBooks to it, I should be able to read them on the Kindle. I searched the start up guide, but didn’t find anything that answered to the key words I tried. And when I jack the Kindle into my laptop, it won’t let me do anything but charge it and demands that I disconnect the USB in order to use the Kindle whilst charging it with my computer. But if I disconnect the USB, then the Kindle is no longer attached to my computer, so how is it charging via my computer if it’s not connected to it? Ooh, my brain hurts! The USB must have some purpose other than attaching to the plug for charging in a wall outlet, or charging via computer–some purpose like, I don’t know, transferring data from computer to Kindle, perhaps? I’m sure it’s a user issue, and I just need to figure it out.

Speaking of the cables that come with the Kindle, they struck me as looking an awful lot like the sort you get with your Apple handheld devices. Just saying. On that note, the Kindle goes from zero to fully charged in about three hours, according to the start up guide. It arrived almost fully charged, and I finished the job overnight, so I haven’t yet had the opportunity to see how long it really takes to charge it up from dead. Oh, and the Kindle doesn’t turn off. It goes to sleep, displaying lovely, literature-related screensavers in shades of gray as it snoozes.

Shh! The Kindle is sleeping!

The Kindle Store bears the wrong name. It should be something more like, Amazon.com’s Wonderful Wubbulous Magical Shoppe of Brain Candy. But it’s just The Kindle Store. YAWN! They should have let J.K. Rowling or Neil Gaiman name it. As soon as you switch on your Kindle, it checks the store to see if you’ve bought anything or if any of your subscriptions have updated and instantly downloads what it finds. You don’t have to go to the store to get your stuff, it comes to you. You can shop from your Kindle, too, though I haven’t tried that yet. I have a hard enough time controlling myself with the non-Kindle Amazon book shop, much less the one that doesn’t make me wait a few days for my purchases. Buy book, download book, read book. Badda-bing, badda-boom. Instant literature. Yum!

The downside of the Kindle Store is, sometimes the stuff costs more than it does in dead tree format. I also discovered that you have to pay for blogs that you can just read for free online. I read Daily Kos through Google Reader at no cost, but to get it on my Kindle, I have to pay a monthly subscription fee. Not cool.

So to sum up, I love my Kindle! I can load it up with thousands (yes, thousands) of books and magazines to read anywhere, anytime (you don’t need the wireless to read, since your goodies are stored on the device). It’s like carrying a library in my purse–and I’m just enough of a bookish little nerd for that to rock the socks off my world.

Forget the sonic screwdriver, I want those shoes!

Whilst looking for a picture of me in high school for a thingie we’re doing at work, I found my mind zipping back to my younger days and realized I was out of my cotton pickin’ mind most of the time. Honestly, some of the things I did in my teens and twenties… To give you an idea, when BFF Tara told her then-boyfriend about some of our high school exploits, he asked if I’d been on drugs. She told him drugs would have been redundant.

Another buddy of mine and I used to walk down to the lake in my subdivision and if we saw anybody around we’d pretend we were on an away team mission from the Enterprise. Even in class we used our compacts as communicator. Yes, we did the chirping noise.

Then there were the lightsaber battles in the library with BFF Tara’s older brother and his friends. They chopped my butt off one time, and I went all drama queen on them. Very large ham with a bit of William Shatner mixed in (or is that redundant?) “You! Choppedoffmybutt!”

More recently, my niece Rachel and I had a smart phone lightsaber duel while waiting in line to see the Real Pirates exhibition at the Science Center. iPhone vs. Droid…IN SPACE…WITH PIRATES! And silly paper pirate hats and some woman who patrolled the line keeping us all in order like the Soup Nazi from Seinfeld. Rachel and I lightsabered her behind her back. Jedi Knights don’t answer to power drunk line monitors! Bet she was a Sith.

I narrated a Slayers cosplay at the last convention I went to almost a decade ago and credited the role of the box of Pocky to Ms. Joan Crawford, and did it with an absolutely straight face. I’m told we were supposed to have won the comedy prize, but the judges were drunk and wrote down the wrong number. The Aesop here is never give cosplay judges booze. Make them work for it first.

The closest I ever came to me doing the cosplaying was back in high school. My friends and I used to act out scenes from the Lord of the Rings in my basement. There were four of us girls, and only three major female roles in LoTR. Guess who always ended up playing Aragorn? That’s right, me. I wanted to be Eowyn, but nooooo! However, when a bunch of us dressed up as LoTR characters for costume day during Spirit Week, I was Sam–fake fur glued to my feet and all. We also had a Frodo, a Gandalf, a Gollum and a Galadriel. (In case anyone is wondering, Eowyn is not my favorite LoTR character; Sam is.)

The one thing that might lure me into actually wearing a costume at a convention: River Song’s amazing red stripper heels from the Doctor Who episode The Time of Angels. If I ever dress up as anybody, I’ve decided I will be River Song. She’s officially my favorite Doctor Who character after the Doctor, himself. She’s my age, utterly the Doctor’s equal (or as close as a mere human can be), and played by the amazing Alex Kingston (perhaps you know her as Dr. Elizabeth Corday in ER). River Song so terrified a Dalek she had it begging for its life. I KNOW, RIGHT?! A DALEK! Even if she weren’t so awesome, I would still dress up as her just for those shoes. I couldn’t possibly stand or walk in them (even River took them off as soon as she got in the TARDIS–sorry, boys, real women don’t walk around the house in stripper heels), but I’d look smashing just sitting around trying to look like Daleks should fear me. (Perhaps they should!) And maybe some hot nerdboy dressed as the 11th Doctor in a tux would do what the Doctor and River should have done at Amy and Rory’s wedding and slow dance with me. Or waltz, perhaps. River was dressed for it. The Doctor was dressed for it. But all they did was have a little chat outside Amy’s house, offer and accept a marriage proposal (SQUEE!), and then–POOF!–off she went into the future to be fabulous in smoky rooms, on starliners, in a necropolis, or in a creepy library. She even made a bulky environment suit look fabulous.

River Song's Come Sonic Me! pumps. WANT!

How does she do that?

I want to be fabulous and completely mad and daring all at the same time. I could add it to my Redesigning Me To Do List:

• Lose weight
• Get in shape
• Socialize
• Become River Song
• Snog the Doctor

Sounds like a mad, diabolical scheme. I like it.

My other outside of work socializing involves dinner and cards at my mom’s once a week. It also used to involve going somewhere fun with my niece, but she moved to Florida, reducing my social fun to two people. Sad.

Regarding workplace socializing, our group has the delightful habit of having wine tastings after hours. My horizons have been greatly broadened by this, since I’m more a beer/ale/stout kind of a gal and usually leave the wine tippling to my mom. I’ve since begun to sample wines I would otherwise not purchase and am enjoying them (not too much, though; I’m a sick drunk).

My goal is to socialize with brand new people. People I don’t interact with everyday, haven’t known for most of my life, and am not related to. Toward that end I, She Who Fears Groups And Social Situations, joined a Meetup group. Those of you who don’t know me well have no idea just how gigantic a leap into the abyss that is for me. I honestly do not feel comfortable in groups. I don’t like parties, they leave me drained, panicky, and slightly ill, feeling like I never want to see those people again as long as I live, for I have surely behaved in such a way as to repulse them utterly. Is this the old school nerd curse? Possibly. Is it shyness and insecurity? More likely. You’d never guess it, really. I overcompensate. I pretend to be a confident, outgoing person–and people are actually fooled by my performance.

I might be in the wrong line of work.

Having said all that–and feeling very, very proud of myself for JOINING something–the group I chose is, for me, safe and the obvious choice, really. It’s my first love, my greatest passion, and involves my favorite nesting material: I joined a Meetup book club. I’m also looking into one for writers but will probably end up in one for movie lovers first, since I’m not actively writing anything. Then again, a group of other writers might be the kick-start I need to meet that redesign goal of mine. I wonder if there’s a comic book or manga one–or would a comic book one be all superheroes and none of the indie stuff I so adore? Would it be full of people like Comic Book Guy on the Simpsons? Or people just like me, who aren’t misogynist, condescending, know-it-alls, but are pretty nice, ordinary folks? (Most likely the latter, I’m sure.) Ooh, or a sci-fi group? Oh, the possibilities for scaring me back into my cave are endless!

I’ll start small. One group. If I like it, maybe just one more. Don’t want to overdo it.

The downside is, the next two meetings are already on a waiting list. No matter. I’ll read the books, anyway, for the pure joy of reading books I’ve wanted to read but haven’t yet. Just in case I make it off the waiting list for one of the meetings.

I’m kind of excited but, really, more scared. Still, these are book people, and I can’t think of a better common ground than books. When I can actually get into one of the meetings, I’ll blog about how it went, and if it did, indeed, drive me back into my cave. Or make me want to go back for more.

I was on a highway off ramp about three miles from my office. The ramp was packed with cars, waiting for the light to turn green, and I was switching channels, trying to find a music station that hadn’t gone to commercial. All of a sudden I hit a news broadcast about a plane having just flown into one of the towers of the World Trade Center. Illogically, I thought it was some sort of hoax at first, like The War of the Worlds radio broadcast that improbably fooled thousands of people into thinking Earth was under attack by Martians. But that was just me in a state of shock. And then I thought–as most did at that stage–that it was a horrible accident, that something had gone wrong with the plane, causing it to go out of control and crash into one of towers.

By the time I made it to my desk, about 15 minutes later (parking where I was working then was murder), everyone was glued to what news websites they could get to (most were overwhelmed). I managed to get to the BBC’s site and soon had several people in my cube, watching the BBC coverage over my shoulder. We were all in shock, some of us were crying. It was terrifying.

The company announced over the PA and in email that if anyone needed to go home, especially if they had family in New York City, they could go. We were also told we could spend our time trying to get news about what happened. I don’t think I got any work done that day. The company I was working at back then had people in the World Trade Center, and kept us all updated with any news of the fate of company personnel.

I listened to the news on the radio all the way home and immediately turned on the TV when I got home and watched the news until late. The next few days were more of the same.

Other than the attack itself, the thing that moved me to tears was the reaction of other nations. When they played our national anthem after their own in London, and the Prime Minister made a speech about solidarity, I just sort of lost it. In other countries, it was the same. This was something humanity could empathize with. It wasn’t a war with soldiers getting killed in the line of duty–something they’d trained for–it was civilians, going about their daily business in an office building, or flying from one place to another. And horrifyingly, the people who did it sincerely believed God wanted them to do it and would reward them in heaven for murdering all those people, from so many nations.

I look back on it now, nine years on, and wonder what the years that followed the attack would have been like had it never happened. No war in Afghanistan, certainly. The war in Iraq might have happened. President Bush seemed determined to find an excuse to send troops in; trumping up an Al Qaeda connection just made the sell that much easier for him. The Administration wouldn’t have had as much ammunition to do the things it got away with, like wire tapping civilians without warrants. On the flip side, President Bush’s claim that he kept America safe from terrorist attacks (9/11 happened on his watch) would have held more water. Of course, it’s possible he might not have won a second term, either.

The fact is, the terrorists failed to achieve their goal: The United States was not brought to its knees. Our culture was not destroyed. American did not fall. They poked the dragon, and the dragon poked back. Unfortunately, it also thrashed around and hurt itself and others in the process.

We’ll never know how America or the world would have been different if the 9/11 attacks hadn’t happened. The only certainty is that the families who lost loved ones might still have them with them, and Americans would not have had to live in a culture of fear for the rest of the decade.

The beach sand-encrusted eggplant was less so. The breadcrumb-ish coating kinda hurt to chew, and inside was something squishy and almost–but not quite entirely–utterly flavorless. And this is coming from a gal who loves tofu, quite possibly the most tasteless food ever created. At least tofu has the decency to take on the flavor of whatever you cook it with. It may be that eggplant can do the same, it just didn’t have good material to work with in this case.

Oh, but the mushroom-pesto-goo was truly nummy.

On the side, I eclectically had green beans, crab rangoon, and a soft pretzel stick. Drink was Snapple® diet peach tea. An interesting, mostly tasty, certainly filling lunch.

Dinner failed to live up to it. Cream cheese on wheat bread sandwich and pine nut couscous on the side? Oh, Kathy, Kathy, Kathy…you were doing so well. No wait: Breakfast involved eggs, cheese, bacon and a croissant. And coffee. Oh dear.

Oh well, at least now when I tell my mother I don’t like eggplant, I can honestly say I’ve actually tried it. With beach sand bread crumbs and mushroom-pesto-goo. I can’t wait to see what wondrous creations the cafeteria staff will come up with to delight and mystify me tomorrow!

Or maybe I’ll play it safe and take a Lean Cuisine® meal and yogurt from home instead.

I know how healthy fish is, though, so I’ve been trying to incorporate it into my diet. Tonight, I bought a piece roasted salmon from Whole Foods for my supper and I have to say, I found it extremely tasty! I was genuinely surprised. I’m just sorry I didn’t buy another piece for later in the week (you never know with Whole Foods how long they’ll stock something in their take away department).

I also got two of my Whole Foods take away favorites: Cheese tortellini with pesto sauce, and orzo with spinach and feta cheese. I’m very, very fond of spinach and of feta and goat cheese. I also love olives, artichokes, olive oil and hummus. I had no idea I was such a big fan of Mediterranean food (yes, I know hummus is an Arab dish). Lucky me, a new Mediterranean restaurant has opened not far from where I live, and it has gotten really good reviews, so I’m dying to try it. When I do, I’ll blog my experience.

So! Trying new things and liking them! Maybe this dieting thing won’t be so tortuous after all.

No wait. I haven’t really started exercising yet. *groan*

Stallone penned the screenplay, which explains why he gets most of the best lines and best scenes. I mean, what’s the point of writing an action vehicle for yourself if you don’t get the best one-liners, right? He gave the rest of them to Jason Statham’s character Lee Christmas, who gets some pretty awesomely manly scenes and dialog, too.

But the action stars aren’t the only man-friendly things this movie has. In fact, Tara and I decided that Stallone probably sat himself down and made a list of Shit Dudes Love and then wrote it all into a script:

• Explosions
• Car chases
• Loud motorcycles
• Explosions
• Loud truck (that sounds like a Harley)
• James Bond gadgets on vehicles (truck and seaplane)
• Hot chicks with jiggly boobs
• Explosions
• Knife experts
• Man-acceptable emotional beats (ex-girlfriend abused by new boyfriend, beat down of old friend, heart-wrenching war stories)
• All-out ass kickings
• Grimacing
• Tattoos
• Explosions
• Women as motivation (“I came for the girl!”)
• Diving away from explosions in slo-mo.
• Snappy one-liners
• Shooting bad guys in half
• Blood spatter
• Explosions (did I mention?)

Tara and I aren’t dudes, but by the end of this movie we suspected our estrogen levels had taken a hit. I worried that I might have started growing a penis. We both had an uncontrollable urge to get tattoos, drive trucks, and blow shit up. Now, we could have remedied this problem by shopping for make up or feminine products, but no. We ended up in a hippie shop. Tie-died clothes, incense, jewelry with pot leaves and peace signs, and bongs. That’s right: Bongs. Being sold right there in the mall in the heart of suburbia. Brightly-colored bongs–or as Tara calls them, fancy vases.

At least now I know where to get my charcoal disks.

For incense.

So, did I like The Expendables? Well, I liked doing instant message “rifftrax” to it with Tara. “Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You waterboarded my girlfriend. Prepare to die.” That’s right, they waterboarded a chick in this movie. How…topical.

I think the one thing I can honestly say I loved about this movie, was the lengths it went to to make it clear that the heroes of this story–real men–respect women. In their world, women are not to be abused or put down, to their faces or behind their backs. The misogynists in this movie were clearly the bad guys. They were depicted as being despicable and NOT MEN. In fact, Stallone’s character even hangs a lampshade on it at one point. This kind of movie is the last place I would have expected to find a “respect women” message, so kudos to Stallone.

But there were some averted man movie tropes, too. Most notably, Our Hero (Stallone’s character) did not, at anytime, attempt to put the moves on the hot chick he overthrew a government to rescue. He hugged her. That’s right, hugged her. Like he was her dad, or something. OK, he’s old enough to be her dad, but still: He’s the hero, and the hero snoggs the girl. Also, there were no naked chicks or sex. None. Nada. I don’t think there was even any kissing at all. But it was made clear that these guys are ladies’ men, because the heterosexuality of the men in man movies must never be in question. Nevertheless, I have to say it was at once disorienting and refreshing to have an absence of naked chicks in a movie targeted at the testosterone crowd. So, I wasn’t always able to predict exactly what would happen in this movie–and that was refreshing, too. Otherwise, it really was pretty predictable.

This must be how guys feel watching a chick flick.

I’d give The Expendables three stars out of five, and that third star is for the anti-misogyny message. Ladies, take your boyfriends/husbands to this one and score yourselves a few points.

I also hope to catch up with my best friend Tara, who I haven’t seen face-to-face since just before last Christmas, as well as my niece (by phone, since her Skype somehow got hosed). Other than that, I have lots of Doctor Who DVDs, Stargate DVDs, and loads of reading to catch up on. Oh, and sleep to catch up on, as well.

I find myself feeling depressed tonight. I’ve made the mistake of thinking seriously about losing weight, and the reality is bogging me down, as I feared it would. But I must overcome it with positive thinking and self-talk. I’m good with the self-talk. I believe Gandalf called it speaking to the most intelligent person in the room. So here’s me being positive: I’m taking concrete steps to lose weight. I’ve modified my eating habits due to paying more careful attention to what I put in my mouth. I’m choosing fresh fruits and vegetables over chips and crackers, brown rice over noodles (except for the other day when I had a bowld of Udon noodles for lunch). Still, my rings and clothes feel tight, so I need to make a better effort. I’m still not as active as I’d like, due to continued pain from my leg and shoulder injuries, but I hope to do a little bit of walking, or at least housework this weekend. It’s a start.

I also think a good night’s sleep might help with this latest bout of depression. I find I sleep better when I know I won’t be awakened at 5:00 AM by my alarm clock. Just knowing I can sleep myself out makes it easier for me to fall asleep and stay asleep. I get a bit anxious about having to wake up early in the morning. I’ve never been a morning person, nor have I ever really been a good sleeper, so I kind of stress out over getting up before my body wakes up naturally (usually around 8:00 AM). I’m expected to be at work by 7:00 AM, mostly because I sometimes have to talk with my colleagues in Belgium, which is always a treat. They’re the kindest, most delightful folks. And how can I fail to be charmed by guys with French names, French accents, and who refer to me as “Dear”? I mean, really? The first time I was on an email one of them sent to a group of us and saw that we were collectively addressed as “Dears”, I just melted. Yes, yes, I know that’s just the custom, but I’m an American, and we’re not usually that charming. J’aime ces messieurs!

Hmm…I wonder if there are any movies out that I might like? I haven’t paid attention lately. Must look into it.

I have a four-day weekend and have no idea what to do with it. Perfect holiday!

This was the big question of the day for me, my business owner, and my editors. Should it be a struck-through letter “b”? Or should it be something people other than developers would immediately interpret as a space–when just, you know, the thing that results from pressing the space bar when you’re typing isn’t good enough? The answer we alighted upon was this: [space]. My idea. I like it. I’m not a developer, but I sort of  understand why just putting a space in certain bits of a message doesn’t communicate what it’s supposed to, so this, to me, says, “Here there be a space”.

But it launched a debate. Apparently, in other documentation in the company the struck-through “b” is used, but no one I asked remembered that…until a decision was made, and I sent out an email to advise the affected parties. Then someone remembered. Still, my business owner liked [space], and decided that–for his document set, at least–we’d stick to it.

Since then, I’ve been looking for some sort of documentation outside of my company that explains why struck-through “b” is used, and if it’s an actual standard practice. If it is a standard practice, where is it standard? Programming? Technical documentation? What? I’ve simply never encountered it before.

In other news: Parched again today. Dehydration by documentation. More of same planned for tomorrow. Can’t wait till the editors get done with my document so I can get back to writing.

Life Redesign Update

I had a very healthy spinach salad for lunch today. It had goat cheese and tomatoes on it to start, then I improved upon it with mushrooms, chick peas, olives, cucumber slices, olive oil and a bit of garlic. Yum! I followed it up with yogurt, and later in the day an apple and some baby carrots. (We’ll see how well I digest the spinach.) Good lunch for me, but I still can’t really do too much activity-wise because my right leg is still in a lot of pain from when I slipped and almost did the splits at Target. Ow. Hopefully, the combination of long weekend, anti-inflammatory meds, and rest will give my body the opportunity to heal properly. I look forward to walking and starting Tai Chi. Now, if I could just get my left shoulder to heal, too, that would be splendid.

I’m still not planning meals or cooking, which was one of my big goals. I intend to remedy that this weekend. However, my mom is going to try one of my old recipes for our dinner Friday evening: Slathering honey Dijon mustard all over chicken breasts and then baking them with a pile of sliced fresh mushrooms (knowing my mom, she’ll use the canned kind, though). In my version, whole, small red potatoes and fresh green beans go in with the chicken and mushrooms. I believe white wine was also involved in the concoction to provide a bit more moisture. Unfortunately, it’s been so long since I’ve prepared that meal that I’ve forgotten what oven temperature I used. I’ll have to ask my mom what temperature she used. Anyway, I’m looking forward to her version.

I’m also doing a lot of visualization, otherwise known as daydreaming. A fine pastime that helps me envision the end results–even the incremental results–of my efforts to lose weight and get healthy. But, as Dumbledore told Harry, it doesn’t do to dream and forget to live. Imagining myself at a healthy weight, all fit and fabulous, is all well and good, but it’s pointless if I don’t actually do something to reach that goal in reality. That’s the hard part.

Oh, life. Why can’t you be more like the Matrix–without those pesky machine overlords and jacks in the backs of people’s heads. And bad dialog. And bad writing. OK, forget the Matrix. Why can’t life be more like Doctor Who, between the bits when monsters are trying to kill the companion? Am I the only one who thinks it would be awesome if Claudia or H.G. Wells from Warehouse 13 and maybe the Fargonator from Eureka were the next companions? …Oh. OK. That is just me. No wait! Noooooo…Dr. Stark from Eureka! I’d like to see the Doctor condescend to him! Maybe they could wander around the T.A.R.D.I.S. in towels.

OK, perhaps a bit too much visualization.

Tonight, I charge the iPod. Maybe I’ll even take the charger to work and jack it into my computer. You know, just to be on the safe side.

I know what you’re thinking: Hey, Kath, why didn’t you just listen to Pandora all day, like you did before Helen gave you her old iPod? Because, when I plug my earphones into my computer, I get this really annoying buzzing sound that cannot be drowned out, even by the Pandora Punk station.  That’s a helluva a noise if it can overpower The Sex Pistols. So, no internet tunes for me, alas.

Oh, but I have muzak on my phone, too. My phone, that my earphones cannot plug into. Yeah. That phone. Now, I could have been the bad colleague and just let the music play, sans earphones, but I’m too nice. Unlike the woman on the other side of the cubicle wall who hangs on conference calls all day long–loudly–and speaks in corporate buzzwords and clichés. She keeps saying she’ll “reach out” to people and “socialize” them to whatever thing she wants them to understand. My buddy in the cube next to me and I keep a running tab of Buzzword Betty’s vocabulary. We want our boss to have a word with her boss to socialize him to the wondrous modern marvel known as the conference room. Where polite meeting participants hold their conference calls. So other people can get their work done without wanting to commit seppuku. But our boss wants proof. He wants us to call him over when she’s on a call so he can hear for himself how irritating and distracting she is. Gee, thanks for the trust, Fearless Leader.

It’s like the mythical Chinese water torture, only with clichés, which for a language nerd like me, is far worse. On the bright side, my colleague and I are having fun playing Buzzword Bingo when concentration becomes impossible.

So here’s me, reading documentation so dry it makes me thirsty, and with Buzzword Betty barking on and on about socializing and reaching out and circling up wagons. I retained nothing of what I read, and I have to finish that doc and read the second one tomorrow. And review them both. I am totally not doing it without the iPod. No way, no how, nuh-uh. I can focus through music, but not through human chatter.

Two more 10-hour days then a 4-day weekend for me! Yay! I believe I will chill. Yes, that sounds like the perfect plan.