chinese water torture

today J2 gives me notice that round 2 is coming up.

new friends

ipad

pages

ibook

dropbox

myditto

and the bff:

google

this is my time, i tell HOM. all these years of waiting and finally they have good-looking applications for a sexy device in reasonably coherent english created specially to seduce technophobes like me. and for all my questions that HOM cannot answer, there's always the bff.

=_=

HOM suspects that the instant coffee is lying through its label and is actually decaf, so today we have coffee bean coffee instead. i suspect they musta had some shenanigan at the coffee plantation to strip the beans of the caf there too.

perspectives

J1 calls home from camp. he's enjoying the jungle; it's gorgeous. HOM is all paternal pride. that's my son, he says. i knew he would like it! nothing like the beauty of untrammeled nature!

now HOM wants me to go hiking with him on some trail. perhaps he thinks i take after him too.

me, i'm not too particular about untrammeled nature, and i rather like it unfettered by considerations of bugs and perspiration.

back to earth

J2 returns from her away camp.

my zealously organized table top transmogrifies into a crawling morass of anarchy. the laundry magically and horrifyingly multiplies. my dinner plans get questioned and summarily altered. Dog works himself into a delighted frenzy. HOM returns home long before the sun sets.

my baby is home. you could say my honeymoon is over. but it's also rather nice.

sytycd

i watch an absolutely beautiful routine* on the dance competition on tv. it's an unadorned stage and an effortlessly gorgeous swirl of bodies all over in two minutes flat. there is a standing ovation at the end and the judges weep.

i would stand too. it is a stunning number in a night of stunning numbers. 

but why tears? or precisely, why do i not weep? words make me weep. or stories. and memories. but dance is like a plane removed. i appreciate the fluid tangle of limbs and delight in the superb unity and think that it goes really well with the song but i do not enter into that deep emotional response.

perhaps one has to be of a certain age and time. or personality type. or training. or perhaps it is simply plebeian me, although HOM is also bewildered and asks me why they weep.

*sytycd july 27th, marko & allison, i know it's over by jeff buckley, contemporary choreography by sonya tayeh.

menu dilemma 2

in actual fact, dinner shall be:

       4. guilt-driven pasta. 

you could call it the puttanesca variant, as in spaghetti alla poltrone, which google translate will tell you is spaghetti in the style of the sluggard.

menu dilemma

tonight's dinner options:

1. buy from the chinese place
2. buy from the chinese place
3. buy from the thai place

ugh.

really?

my rickety toyota acquires a brand new set of shock absorbers.

psychologically this makes us feel safer. the main problem is if you didn't look at the bank balance you wouldn't be any the wiser.

auction hunter

HOM bids for a USB cable on ebay. should it be $0.70 or $0.80? he asks of his maximum bid. make it a dollar, i say, it's more efficient. he declines. if he wants to pay a dollar that would be buy-it-now price and he wouldn't need to bid.

there is the thrill of the chase and there is getting carried away, is what i say.