I like you, keep it up

girlfriend, I’m not your nutritionist

Cobble. I’ve tried, but I just can’t seem to get the knack of it. I can sew my own clothes but footgear is forever beyond me.

Caffeine addiction. I was so leery of it and swore I’d never get hooked. Now the best I can manage is to detox once a year but before six months have gone by I’m back on the train.

Well, and not all sugars are equal (pun intended). Fructose is I can have a larger amount of, glucose I need to moderate and even avoid, and me, I shouldn’t have lactose at all.

Fire engines and Ambulances are motor vehicles, but they’re not cars. Ban all cars.

Is this like, “I didn’t know you were mad” or “I didn’t realize I was supposed to tip my hairdresser” or “I didn’t realize they’d turn off our electricity if zi didn’t pay the bill”? The first is pretty complicated, but the second two are various flavors of “proactive research is part of maturity”.

I only even follow through on plans though dogged, jaw-clenching stubbornness.

As a professional salesperson, I can tell you don’t worry, most other people are also terrible at bullshit and manipulation.

It comes down to this: Most people want to know what you want from them. We’re social animals. Someone who seems self-sufficient reads as a potential threat. The best way to get people to do what you want is to tell them what you want in a way that makes sense to them, because then then can help you out and feel like you’re connected to them.

This is where “lying” comes in, because the reasons you give them for what you want has to their reasons, not your reasons, and, frankly, a lot of people are a little crazy and want crazy things. You can’t tell your alcoholic boss you’re drowsy because you were up all night playing Zelda, you tell her you have a bit of a hangover. Either way, she’ll tell you to drink a cup of coffee and get it together, but the former makes her trust you less and the latter trust you more.

How to read a cookbook, or a recipe. I can follow one and hope for the best, or use it it remind myself of details of a dish I’ve made before, but the way most recipes and cookbooks are written is crazy to me. I can’t visualize the final result at all, even with pictures. This is just about the only arena where the video format seems to be better than text, and that’s outrageous.

Why would the amount of something and the instructions for it he in different places? In recipes where you make a dry mix and a wet mix completely separately and then comine them, why aren’t those different subsections? Why in all the hemispheres of the earth is the oven temperature, usually the first thing you have to attend to, not the first line of the recipe?

They’re not written in chronological order or in logistical subsections. I keep having to flip back to the ingredient list to find out how much of something I’ll need (when I’m reading it, I know how to assemble my mise en place, thank you). The best thing I’ve found is to rewrite the whole recipe myself in a way that makes sense to me:

Two columns, one with ingredients and their anounts grouped by subsection and chronologically within that subsection; the second with instructions for what to do with those ingredients. It’s easy for me to tell at a glance, oh, here’s the part I can do in advance, here’s me preparing the Holy Trinity, here’s the spice blend I add midway, here’s the part where I can take a smoke break, here’s the garnish at the end.

PS. Time signatures are all about which dance steps you can do to the music, in my experience.

Ironically, it was talklittle. I say ironically because even though he directed people to lemmy he himself ended up on tildes.

He always calls me Betty and acts like my long-lost pal.

Smashmouth’s “All Star” got a lot bigger than 1999’s Mystery Men

I just call them hypercubes, so people don’t think I’m talking about a L’Engle novel.

I don’t want I with serifs. I want I with crossbars, and optionally serifs on those crossbars.

Monaco for the win.

It’s the rousing speeches, mostly.

What if it’s ground ham?

these days increasingly a pocket computer person

The end of any given West Wing episode.

About three quarters of a mile NNE. I really like my neighborhood, I just want to be closer to the park.