Author: the outside lane

I was in Kindergarten or First Grade when my Granny bought me my first telephone.  It was a cream and gold, princess phone and I adored it.  I also employed it frequently to call Granny and natter away about anything that came to mind.  I felt very grown-up.

It wasn’t my own phone line, mind you, but it was a phone in my bedroom, and I could use it whenever I liked.  Back then, I loved talking on the phone.  Now?  I think I used up all my phone talking in my teen years.  My word.  Jamie, or Karen and I would get on the phone and talk for hours.  In my teen years, my friends and I would start phoning each other at 5am (using the Time & Temperature trick.  You had to have call waiting for this to work, but one person would call Time & Temperature and let that message play out for 60 seconds, and wait for the other one to dial their phone number and beep in on call waiting.  That way, your phone never rang, so you didn’t wake up your parents.  This is not to be confused with the Time & Temperature trick used to make Sister Isabelle believe your mother said you could leave school early.) and talk until we absolutely had to hang up to get to school.  After school, we’d be on the phone again, until a parent was stomping around insisting we hang up.  And, usually around 11pm, we’d use the T&T again, and talk until after midnight.  I cannot tell you the number of times I fell asleep while talking on the phone.

I think this is why I am so tired as an adult.  I talked too much and didn’t sleep enough as a teen.

The other day it hit me that Thor has no access to a telephone.  We don’t have a land line, and it seemed absurd to consider a cell phone for a 6-year-old.  But what would he do in case of an emergency?  Would he be able to use B’s or my cell phone?  You know what’s coming, right?

Thor has a cell phone now.

No, he’s not carrying it to school in his Lightning McQueen backpack.  It’s plugged into its charger on the wall, and that’s where it will stay.  I got him a freebie, pre-set the speed dials for the family numbers, and set parental controls on everything else.  Basically, he has a tiny telephone, on which he loves to talk, and talk, and talk.

He called my mother the other day and I heard him ask, as he was settling down in the middle of my bed for comfort, “Now then, Grandma, I want you to tell me everything you know about bones, and how they are in your body, and how they grow, and how they are in your head.”  It reminded me of calling up Granny and asking things like, “If God is in the sky, but once there was no sky, where did God sit while he was making it?”  Grandparents are good things.

Since she said it really well, I’m going to let Danielle Corsetto of Girls With Slingshots explain SOPA:

SOPA what, man?

So if you’re anything like me and read a lot of shit on the Internet (particularly when you should be working), you’ve probably already noticed that a good portion of the ‘Net is bringing attention to SOPA and PIPA today. I was confused even after reading the Wiki entries, so Reddit helped explain it a little better.

 

Here’s the thing: as with most bills, there are some things in here that sound pretty good! But the rest of it is entirely too vague. When I was younger I used to think that all the vague stuff would be justly handled by politicians because politicians should be really good people who never manipulate the law to fulfill their own greedy interests. But then I started watching the news, so, that was depressing.

 

These bills are too unclear about their proposed methods and actions. When taken to one extreme, the bill could mean that the US government wants people to stop stealing and monetizing other people’s intellectual property, and that they would be very careful about policing this. When taken to another extreme, the bill could mean that the US government could define IP theft however it (and its $upporter$) sees fit, and essentially shut down any website that so much as hosts a link to said thief’s site, even if it’s  from an unregistered commenter.

 

So, Americans! (Sorry for boring you, non-Americans.) Here’s what you can do to raise your voices (I am borrowing this from my pal Zach because I had no idea what to do, myself):

1) Look up your congressperson or senator, and see if he/she supports or opposes.

 

For SOPA: projects.propublica.org/sopa/
For PIPA: projects.propublica.org/sopa/pipa#roll_call

2) Click the appropriate picture to pull up contact information.

3) Write a handwritten letter describing why you’re unhappy. This is the best way to get their attention.

4) If you don’t have time for that, call their office and politely but firmly express your complaint, specifically mentioning their support for SOPA (house of reps) or PIPA (senate).

 

Let’s avoid the possibility of GWS ever being blocked by some poorly-written over-funded bill. If we want to protect creators from being robbed of their intellectual property, let’s do it the right way and be transparent about our motives. And until that happens, let’s raise hell over these bills so they won’t pass.

 

New Year, new me.  Since I have resolved not to spend money on clothes or accessories I do not need, I have decided that my personal upkeep can take an up-tick.  So, having found a girl who did an outstanding job on fixing the hair color mess I made of myself (Ali, at the Ulta salon in Southlake), and a girl who shaped my eyebrows better than anyone else who has ever laid tweezer, wax or thread to my brow bone (Cheryl, at the Terrace Retreat spa in Southlake), and a girl who just rocked my world with eyelash extensions (Preea, at Salon Diosa in Plano) I am all set.  Have I mentioned how much I like living in a central location?  I am too aggravated by my last three mani/pedis to even bother with those right now.  I’ll do my own, thanks.

I also discovered a great new lip stain/lip gloss.  Maybelline SuperStay 10Hour Stain Gloss.  This stuff is brilliant!  I bought it in Pleasing Plum, which turned out to wear as a really nice blue-red, after getting my hair colored.  I wanted a bright gloss I could wear when I did more retro looking makeup.  Very pleasantly surprised by the brightness of the color, the long lasting nature of the product, and the initial gloss.  The gloss lasts for a nice amount of time, too.

So here’s the new hair (a mahogany glaze,) and the new lipstain/lipgloss, along with the new eyebrows, and the new eyelashes.

I’ve just finished my Catherine the Great book, and spent about 45 minutes looking at maps.  I was angry at Russian maps for a lot of years.  My final class to complete my minor in Russian was a course called Soviet and Eastern European Studies.  One of the things we had to do was memorize the geography and be able to create a map of the USSR.  A week before the exam, all hell broke loose in the USSR and it seemed like every other day, another republic had broken apart and declared independence, changing a) its name, and b) the shape of the map.  I quit trying, frankly.  I figured I’d wait it out, until the country decided what it looked like, then I’d bother with it.  By the time things settled down, my class had ended and I was waist deep in Classics.  Who cared?

Also, that class was the realization of a stress nightmare.  You know the dream you have where you have a final and you forget about it, or you show up to your class on the wrong day?  Yeah.  I did that.  I had a final presentation that was 50% of my final grade (the economy of Russian Georgia, about which I had also thrown up my hands) and I completely missed my slot.  Since I never bothered to go to class unless I had something due, I wasn’t aware that my presentation date had changed.  I showed up on the date I thought I was slated to present, and found the classroom empty.

After running around like a headless chicken trying to find my class, I discovered that the class had moved entirely–2 weeks prior.  Nightmare.

Long story short, the professor knew me pretty well, having had me for four other classes, and he allowed me to present later.  I was crap, and have done my best to block out the looks of disbelief on the faces of my classmates as I bs’d my way through.  Ended up with a C for the semester, and could only muster up relief at not having failed.

All that said, I haven’t looked at a map of Russia since, fearing hyperventilation and hives.  CtheG sufficiently reignited my interest, and I enjoyed reacquainting myself with the past and present geography of that massive nation.

Funnily, the woman who did my spa treatment yesterday was telling me about her Russian grandmother, whose family came from the Ural mountains.  She couldn’t remember the name, but as soon as she told me there was coal mining, I piped up with it.  Then, I probably bored her to death talking about serfs and the Pugachev Rebellion.  At least, she seemed much more at ease when I changed the subject back to perfumes, and how bad Youth Dew smelled.

Youth Dew smells really bad.

Having just returned from the mall, I remember what I dislike about them.  Other than visits to Grapevine Mills mall, which doesn’t count because it’s an outlet mall, I haven’t been shopping in a mall for years.  I’ve met people at the Galleria, but not for shopping.  Tonight, I went to a local mall for shopping.  Ugh.

First of all, it was at least 80 degrees in there.  Too hot for humans, much less too hot for shopping, but at least I got my workout in by walking the length of the place twice (yes, I got lost) in hot yoga temperatures.  I also tried on several items, burning more calories.

Then, there is the level of service.  When I go into Ross or TJ Maxx, I don’t expect any service.  I don’t even expect the clothes to be on the racks.  At a department store, I do expect to be helped–or at least asked if I need help.  I don’t want to have to hunt down a salesclerk to go into a fitting room.  I don’t want to have to hunt down someone to cash me out.  I want service.  I am paying for it.

And there’s the last thing.  Mall prices are insane!  If I hadn’t been looking for something in particular, I’d have gone to one of my outlet stores, but since I needed one particular thing, for a very specific purpose, I went to the mall where I was guaranteed to find it.  I paid twice as much as I would have at Ross, but the odds of Ross having it were twice as slim, so I guess it evens out.

I stopped at the Lancome counter for some eyeliner and a set of their mini perfumes, and my purchase qualified me for a free gift–if I was willing to leave my purchases there until January 31, when the gift was available.  Say what?!  No.  When I pay for something, it comes home with me.  

On the plus side, it turned out to be a very nice mall, with a good variety of stores and several play areas for kids.  So, if I’m inclined, I could take Thor back with me.