sweet, sweet bike grease.

despite the fact that the results i got by using, in a pinch, two half-second depressions worth of generic canola cooking oil that comes in an aerosol container were not only fast acting, but satisfactory beyond my expectations, I don't particularly recommend repeated usage of said product for soon to be mentioned problem for reasons of undue greasiness, uncordial environmental effects, general unconventionality of action, and the fact that there are better choices out there (read: products made specifically for this problem), unless you are in aforementioned pinch, wrestling with rusty stuck bike lock under 'gonna be late to work i don't have time for this' time constraint while standing in the slight rain outside of ice cream shop on cap hill that is renowned for their creamy (and sorbety) sweet indulgences and homemade waffle cones that don't stick to the waffle maker due to oleicic properties of on the fly lubricant.
thank you, (kind employee of) ms. moon.

Salman Rushdie vs the Vampires

buenos new year to you.

salman rushdie is a brilliant writer. I am casually strolling thru his book, The Ground Beneath Her Feet, at a snails pace, enjoying the sights and sounds, the fruits and berries of his labor. while I am in deep reverence, in awe with his natural ability, I am also not 100% engrossed as to not be easily distracted by certain happenings in the nearby woods, happenings that require my complete all encompassing attention: teenage vampires. that's right, I have been, if I may be so crude, sucked in.
my youngest kin/cousin once removed or so, lent me book one of the Twilight series. no, correction, she lent my dad the book. he got thru a few chapters before he started to feel the effects of the teenage angsty romance venom at which point he struggled to keep his eyes open, interest peaked, eventually retreating back to that alternate universe adults call 'reality,' but not before utilizing some degree of practical magic to turn the book into a paperweight. enter me. at first I was just reading a few chapters here and there, before bed, between classes and work. then I got some mercifully brief yet still wicked head cold that put me out for a good 33ish hours. the first 6 of those I spent alternately taking in plenty of fluids (could someone tell me exactly how many cups is in a plenty? thx) and polishing off the remaining 300+ pages of said pop vampire tome numero uno in which beautiful old dangerous white people spend their waking hours (read: all day, all night) working hard not to take in plenty of fluids. or at the very least, strictly monitoring exactly what type of fluids are imbibed.
so, now I'm mildly hooked. I admittedly have a proclivity for the drop dead gorgeous undead. and while the series leaves some to be desired in certain literary aspects (er, book two plot?) and in protagonistic character traits (the heroine's lily liveredness is somewhat draining), the overall experience is indulgently satisfying, a nice quick distraction off the main path. now, where were we, mr. rushdie?

ps
I am fascinated by horror stories and how they reflect certain trends/aspects of society. I read recently that the popularity of vampire movies today has a bit to do with the recession/lack of goods to be had, in that vampires exemplify the sexy alluring measure of restraint. hmmm, interesting. perhaps I need to read books 3 and 4 to really get a good perspective. research, my friends, strictly research.

it took me 2 hours to write this blog.

oh man, I just spent the last hour+ zoning out, staring at 18+ pages of cat photos on that freakin' I Can Has Cheezburger website and random videos of animals in the snow. I especially enjoy the ones of different species interacting lovingly, playfully. PeterPeter Jennings and BABYSEAL have been known to interact in such a manner and if I had a photo of them in action I would post it but instead you get a photo from aforementioned time warp url. funnier still is fact that the cat actually looks like PeterP.

that smell is my lunch.

so, for the last, seemingly longest week of my life, I've been on this self imposed cleansing diet that requires me to ix-nay the ugar-say and beef up my raw sauerkraut. why the taste bud torture? I'm trying to alleviate some mildly annoying gastrointestinal imbalance. something about good bacteria being crowded out by bad bacteria. like how invasive blackberries taking over the yard. the sugar feeds the baddies so I'm trying to starve them dead and lovingly nurture the true, internal me. unfortunately for me and those down wind of me, loving nurturing smells bad. like freshly broken wind bad. paradoxically, the ten dollar a jar, made with love, fermented raw cabbage/mixed veggie blend, tastes, well, pretty darn good. zingy even. the epicurian experience is on a whole, pleasant. provided I hold my breath past the initial, I'm embarrassed by association, compost-tastic, nasal stinging blast.

strauss, party of one, your table in exile on the farthest end of the patio is ready for you.

greatest invention already thought up

following a remedial online search, I came to discover that my brilliant idea has already been acted upon by others more electronically capable than I. readers, may I introduce to you sheer manifested genius: the bookmark-dictionary. it's brilliant, useful. no more having to lug around that dusty tome of a webster. you don't even have to put your own book down. short of having your own personal assistant on hand whose sole purpose in life as a personal assistant is to bestow accurate, up to date definitions on demand, this is the proverbial shit. it's the one feature on those disagreeable palm ebook things that make me pause and consider handing over my hard earned money and taking one of those paperless paperbacks for a spin.
the only thing that could make it better is if the entire gadget, and not just the keypad portion of it, fit within the pages. perhaps a few more technological advances are in order. or just a more thorough google search.

post script
I just read a bunch of reviews about the item pictured above, none of them very good. apparently the word selection is as remedial as my initial research. so until the word count of the product expands inversely to the thickness of it, I be double fisting it literary style with a novel in one hand, dictionary in the other.

why this book have no photos?

this year I have taken upon myself the culinary task of baking Geode's birthday cake. a fluffy, moist, white coconut cake. I was given a due date and descriptors to abide by, but no list of must have ingredients. I am not a seasoned baker. but I do love to cook. in my 'you say difficult, I say delicate' diet, I do not eat the cattle dairy or cattle cattle. let it be known, also, that my taste receptors equate 'healthy' with 'yum.' therefore, she, on the verge of 30, is at my mercy.
this evening was Stab 1 at Mission Birfday Cake: recently, I fished out of my parent's give away pile the hot off the press in 1984 glossy covered copy of 'Natural Foods Cookbook, Vegetarian Dairy-Free Cuisine' complete with dessert recipe, tucked almost at the end of the book, entitled 'Outrageous Coconut Date Cake.' while I was warily aware that people's personal definitions for common adjectives ranges greatly, my faith had already been won over by previous completions of several recipes towards the front of the book. so I followed the recipe (well, except for the raisin 'frosting.' I switcherooed half the raisins for prunes. don't knock it till you try it, it tastes good. also, geode already punched me in the arm for it.) and the results, in a coconutshell, were 'hey, that's not bad. no, wait, that's pretty good. except for the frosting.' barring strict adhearence to the request that it be fluffy and white, the cake was a success! leaving me with confidence to forge forward, the Natural Foods way, and, while I'm at it, try other people's ideas of healthy and dairy free 'cake.'

the one thing this book lacks, that, at first thought, would just put this book over the top into the realm of best ever, but at second thought, would, well, maybe it's best they didn't, is photos of the finished product. whilst googleimagesearching other decorated vegan cookies, it became quite clear that sometimes, healthy just ain't pretty. specially desserts. no, just desserts. kale salad is beautiful, cooked butternut squash is ravishing. date/nut bars, 'no-bake' couscous cake, oatmeal cookies, etc etc are, it hurts my hippie sensibilites to say it, ugly. tasty, yes. but sadly lacking in the looks department. MY CAKE AND CUPCAKES ARE NO EXCEPTION. they look, er, healthy. (which, personally, is hardly a cause for hesitation as my hand reaches out to snag snacks of any kind.) but when trying for a food item that is characteristically, name-sakey white and fluffy, whole wheat wholesome with prune paste is a hard sell. but know that they are, in fact, delicious (in the publicly accepted form of the word) in a way that only words can describe.

where no man woman or child, friend, family or lover has gone before. . .

This here is a photo of Counselor Diana Troy of Star Trek, The Next Generation. There is nothing remarkable with it beyond it's inherent awesomeness. Except when you take into consideration that it looks just like my new therapist, minus the hoop earrings plus sweet v neck onesie. I kid you only the slightest bit. The universe has conspired with the galaxies to bring me this fine gift of emotional mentorship in the form of a lovely grad student made in the image of my fantasy childhood counselor. To you, modern day Earth bound Diana Troy, I open my heart and mind. . . it all began back in StarDate 3.2435.18937, I was playing in the yard with my sister, when my mother called us in to . . .