I saw the sign(s)

A recent errand took me out to the suburbs. Now, as you may know, it is no small fete to get me out to the 'burbs. My distaste for suburbia is great. Don't even get me started about strip malls, blurred boundaries or urban sprawl.

So, when necessity took me over the west hills to Beaverton, I decided to make it worth my while and try out the Indian food restaurant which so many have raved about, Abhiruchi's. The food alone is well worth the drive, but it was a couple of signs that convinced me to come back the next week for the lunch buffet along with my camera.

The first is inside the restaurant:



Ah, the homonym. Always a good source for amusement.

The second sign was located just a few steps away in the window of the Grocery Outlet:



I'm no marketing guru, but I don't think moving back in with one's parents was a good thing.

New Name

Over Christmas dinner I realized that I had crossed the point of no return. I have officially teased my gullible brother-in-law so much that he no longer believes a word I say.

Brian gets a bad rap among my friends because he is often lacking in common sense and therefore "stepping in it" almost constantly. When I am feeling generous, I try very hard to think up something nice to say about him. Sometimes all I can come up with is, "It is fun to tease him." But believe it or not, I do sort of like the guy. I'm just a little incredulous that such a smart guy can constantly exhibit such tardtastic behavior.

Everyone had finished dinner and enjoying some conversation while dessert was being served. We were talking about a distant relative's new baby and the tradition of naming children after family members (this baby is named Xander after his grandfather). I just happen to be one of those people that was named after her father. But unlike little Xander, my namesake loaned and adapted his name for my middle name.

As it turns out, Brian does not know my middle name. As such:

Brian: You look like you could be a "Michelle"
Me: Really?
Brian: Yeah.
Me: Well, that is my name.
Brian: No it's not.
Me: It's one of them.
Brian: What?
Me: It's my middle name.
Brian: Not it's not.
Everyone: YES IT IS!

Then, because my sister and my nephew have two middle names, he asked if my second middle name was to honor my mother.

I lied and said, "Yes. Definitely."

I went a little Internuts

If you've noticed a dearth of entries around here, I can explain. I've been making an effort to use the Internet less often.

Like many people, I spend hours at the computer and then I wonder where all my time has gone. The Internet is at best a time suck, at worst an addiction for me. I decided to cut back for two reasons. One, it would be nice if I didn't have to pay the bill anymore. And two, I'd rather spend time with people instead of a machine. I may also have been motivated by the headaches caused by my crippled computer.

After my initial scale-back, I find I don't miss very much. I still keep up with blogs, though I skim through massive blogs with 100+ updates per day. I am sort of relieved by the fact that I can allow myself to pass up the opportunity to reciprocate each little doohickey sent to me on a social networking site. Ironically, I think I am slightly better at responding to emails these days.

In general, I think the cut back has been a relief. I'm still not sure if I can cut the cord as it were. I'm not sure if I'm willing to give up the convenience of a home Internet connection. I mean, where else am I going to learn that sticky tape generates X-rays?

brokenspacebar

Never
say,
"I
will
dropkick
this
computer
to
the
moon
if
one
more
thing
goes
wrong!"

The
spacebar
will
break.

And
nobody
can
kick
that
far.

Typing only with the left hand is hard.

I'm trying to distract myself from the odd sensation of sudden blood loss. I was reading something about swearing in South Pasedena when all of a sudden I decided to embed a metal spatula into my right pinky finger. Why was I futzing around with a spatula while reading blogs? Because nothing tastes better than a hot grilled cheese sandwich with a side of self-published verbal composition. I dare you to find a better culinary accompaniment.

The wound looks pretty deep, and there's all sorts of blood under my fingernail. But that's not what concerns me. I find it a bit more troublesome that my entire arm is numb and I'm still bleeding about 20 minutes later. Am I in pain? I can't tell. Am I going to puke? It's a possibility. I think my tetanus is current, so I'm not going to get all buggered out over this.

Instead, I will beguile my senses by attempting to remember 10 things I thought about this evening.

1. Bolo Ties. Who thought of these? Wherefore? Does anyone have evidence of anyone looking good in one? Please tell me, I'd like to know.

2. Since about October, I've had extended stints where I feel like Sifl (from MTV's defunct Sifl & Olly) in the song Weird Day. Blood loss intensifies the effect. "Lost mind. No rhymes. Takes time." I get it, Sifl. Santa Claus, he's not pretend.

3. Why hasn't anyone heard of My Kingdom? I wanted to watch this movie tonight. I'm meeting someone tomorrow about a King Lear thing and God forbid I reread the original beforehand. I was feeling lazy and I just wanted a nice evening where I could hunker down and watch the late, great Richard Harris. I saw My Kingdom a few years ago and decided that it was the best Lear film adaptation since Ran. I must've seen it while I lived in Ireland because I don't think it's been distributed here. And that's a damn shame.

4. I don't think I could recognize a picture of myself taken in profile. Maybe my hairdo would give it away...

5. I wish it was OK to knock on a stranger's door when you're out for a walk and have to use the loo. I got stuck tonight up on Klickitat thinking, "Uh oh, 12 blocks is too far!" I proved myself wrong, but it did make the second half my evening constitutional a tidbit uncomfortable.

6. Do you ever take out a battery operated device (like a tape recorder, Gutterheads) that you haven't used in years and expect the batteries to work? I do.

7. When I got the Bactine bottle out, I realized that I'm convinced that the generic for Bactine is bacsiduent. I don't think such a word really exists. Google sure doesn't think so.

Did I say 10? I meant 7. My first aid kit had fingertip bandages! Who's special now?