Want something fun to listen to? "Do You Miss Me?" by Lyne Tremblay.

Picture the Easter Bunny:

Is it a little hopping-around bunny like you'd find in a backyard or as someone's pet? Or is it a bipedal anthropomorphic cartoon rabbit? Is it male, female, or gender-non-specific? Is it wearing clothes, and if so what? Is it an adult rabbit, a child rabbit, or age-non-specific?

I was reading up on Asperger again today. If North America had been aware of it ten years earlier, and if my parents had noticed that something was wrong with me (they might have, I don't remember), I would have definitely been diagnosed with it around age 4. But I don't know if I could get a diagnosis now, because I can hide it. My public face comes through rote learning and imitating others and method acting, but it is impenetrable to anyone who doesn't see me in my private moments. A doctor diagnosing me would see me as a normal, well-adjusted, if somewhat shy, young woman who is sitting in the office rattling off the textbooks symptoms of AS. But it's all an act. Smile, eye contact, perfect handshake, nod of the head, eyebrow thing. Sit up straight, cross legs, smiley voice (a former co-worker answering the phone), articulate speech (grad student defending a thesis), those hand gestures practiced in front of the mirror. Can't think of anything to say? Lower eyes modestly, fold hands, shy and sweet (generic sheltered Victorian heroine). She's a bit shy, but she's wonderful once you get to know her.

Unfortunately, I've perfected my public face to the extent that I can't turn it off for a stranger long enough to get a diagnosis. Not that it matters, there's no treatment and it isn't a disability, but you can't quite go around saying you're Aspie based on self-diagnosis.

I never thought I had privacy issues. I mean, I keep my PIN numbers secret and lock my door and close my curtains and keep certain aspects of my private life private, but I've never objected to cameras in public places or hesitated to have personal conversations on a cordless phone and my real name is in my primary personal email address.

But today I found a privacy issue I never knew I had. It all started when I went to Second Cup. They had a promotion today where if you buy a maple latte they'd donate a dollar to Tree Canada. It's a good cause and I'd been wanting to try the maple latte, so I went to buy one today. But as I waited in line, I noticed that on the maple latte poster they'd put stickers with the names of all the people who'd bought a maple latte today and thus donated a dollar to Tree Canada. I didn't want my name on the poster! I felt shy about everyone in the world knowing I'd bought a maple latte! Why should my co-workers and every random passer-by get to know that I'd bought a maple latte there today? So I left without buying anything and went to another Second Cup that let me buy my latte anonymously.

(And the maple latte tastes like a latte, but not like maple).

Guide horses!

Best spam subject line ever: "Archdiocese disruptive"

Can a doctor be a nurse? Like are there things that nurses are trained to do that doctors aren't? Or could a doctor just take over a nurse's job no problem?

You know how in polar regions the sun stays out all day on the solstice? Does it still move across the sky from east to west?

I had a dream that I made a still (like to brew moonshine in) inside of a table lamp. The lamp was full of water, and the bottom of the lightbulb was lined with stuff*. There was another lightbulb on a cord, and when you waved it near the lamp, the water that it passed would start to boil, and then it would jump up through the stuff* and briefly pass through the lightbulb like the top thingy in a percolater. This would somehow produce alcohol, although there was no device to remove the alcohol from the still or prevent it from being mixed with water.

The weird thing about this dream is that, as you can tell by my description, I have no idea how a still actually works or the theory of creating alcohol. But in the dream I knew all the theory of still-building and could explain in great scientific and technical terms exactly how it worked. And when I woke up from the dream, I floated around in a lucid dream for a while before awakening completely, and in the lucid dream I looked back on my still dream, perfectly aware that it had been a dream, and thought through the logic and said "Yes, that would obviously be impossible to build inside a table lamp, but the science behind how it would have produced alcohol is sound," when IRL I don't know the science!

*"stuff" being the food product or yeast or whatever it is that you put in the still to ferment or be a source of sugar or whatever. I don't know what it actually is, but I know you have to put something in there.

So apparently medical residents' 24-hour shifts may be compromising patient care.

Question: Why the hell are they doing 24-hour shifts in the first place? Whose brilliant idea was that?

The weather forecast at the moment? SNOWSNOWSNOW!!!!

Surprisingly, the CablePulse 24 website hasn't started freaking out about it yet.

Right now I'm drinking Fetzer Chardonnay-Viognier. I'd never heard of Viognier before, and I think it falls into the category of "an acquired taste". There is an aspect in this wine that is more complex than Chardonnay (that would be the Viognier, says the peanut gallery). I didn't like it initially, but I'm getting used to it. However, I wouldn't go out of my way to acquire it. I guess it's a bit off-putting because I have this expectation that white wines be "light", and this is not light. It sort of requires spicy food to go with it. The best way I can describe it is Viognier is to Chardonnay like Zinfandel is to Merlot.

Last book read = Tropic of Night by Michael Gruber. This book is badly in need of an editor. It is apparently supposed to be a mystery, but the jacket flap tells you whodunnit, and the entire book is about tracking the guy down. I suppose this makes it a thriller, which isn't exactly my favourite genre.

At any rate, the book is four hundred something pages long, and it takes until page three hundred something to get as far into the plot as the blurb on the jacket flap takes you, so most of it isn't exactly compelling, although it picks up at the end.

I should also warn that this book contains passing mentions of just about everything that anyone might consider icky. It isn't overly graphic, but it isn't exactly understated either. I could read it while eating, but I wouldn't read it if I was sitting home with the stomach flu, or if I had had a panic attack recently. Admittedly, the vast majority of the ickiness is important to the plot, and if it wasn't there the book would come across as overly sanitized. But it should carry a warning label that pregnant women shouldn't read this book.

However, there are a few things that are very well done. The many many deus ex machinas (I'm sorry, I don't have the Latin to pluralize that phrase) fit in well enough - you don't find yourself rolling your eyes or feeling cheated, and they're easy enough to believe if you want to. The author gives us an opportunity for some lovely schadenfreude about an unsympathetic protagonist, which makes him decidedly easier to swallow. But overall, this book, and the blurb on the jacket flap, both badly need to be brutally edited so that we aren't 75% of the way through before we come upon new plot information, and so that about a third of the exposition in the beginning isn't totally unnecessary.

I just impulse purchased some shoes that I'm never going to wear because they were only $15. They're reasonable shoes - black maryjane style with closed toes and a bit of a heel - and they fill the "black shoes that aren't boots or sandals and can be worn with skirts and pants" whole in my wardrobe, but they aren't the best shoes in the world for my foot problems. They don't provide enough support and they might exacerbate my calluses. (Because I'm sure you all want to hear about my calluses). But $15 is a reasonable price for a pair of shoes whose job is to sit in my closet until I find myself in some hypothetical situation where I need black dress shoes that aren't sandals or boots. So I currently have a shoe situation where I'll never have to do emergency last minute shoe shopping (which is extraordinarily difficult when you're a size 11 with narrow width but wide toes and fucked-up pronation).

oooh, the poor widdle baby duckie fell down!

Reading this makes me wonder if men or women are more likely to perceive themselves as "grown-up", and which gender is more likely to start perceiving themselves as grown-up first.

A poll! A poll that is going to wreak havoc with my GoogleAds up top!

When you were a kid, the youngest age you can remember, what words did your parents teach you to refer to bodily fluids and bodily functions, ie: urine/urination, feces/defecation, gaseous emmissions of various sorts, vomit, anything else you can think of. Comment in the comment box!

For me:

urine/urination = pee/pee-pee
feces/defecation = poo/poo-poo
burp = burp (I don't even know if burp is the technical name or not)
fart (for which I don't know the technical name) = poopy air
vomit = upchuck
diahrrea (sp?) = the runs

1. It's a timeline of the history of Usenet, complete with links to significant posts!

2. They should put garbage cans on all TTC vehicles. And a sort of envelope/rack thing to leave your newspapers in, so you can leave them behind for others, but you don't have to litter or leave them on seats and then other people will end up throwing them on the wet floor and making them unreadable.

There was mentino in the papers today of how people aren't using encyclopedias any more because they have Google. It occurred to me that I haven't used an encyclopedia since elementary school, because they contain the wrong scope of information.

I do three types of research: academic research, work-related research, and personal research. For all the academic research I've had to do since the beginning of high school, encyclopedia articles have been too much of an overview without enough details. They would be helpful if I knew nothing about the subject, yes, but when I'm assigned an essay or a project I already know the basics of the subject and need more in-depth and specialized material than one would find in an encyclopedia. For these projects I use a mix of internet, books, and academic journals.

In my work-related research, I'm usually looking for something extremely specific, or extremely specialized. For example, I'm looking for a particular clause of a particular law, which I wouldn't find in an encyclopedia but on the internet (or in a law book). Or I'm looking for the title of a specific individual, which obviously wouldn't be in an encyclopedia. Or I'm trying to figure out what a "CU time-out sequence" is, which is far too specialized to be in an encyclopedia (and even if it were, I couldn't look it up without context). I use specialized terminology banks for most of this stuff, but if those don't help, Google will get me closer to what I need than an encyclopedia ever will.

My personal research is very diverse, about any little thing I happen to be wondering at the time. "What's that song I heard that keeps repeating 'Wo bist du? Wo bist du?'" "What was the name of that cop show sendoff on Square One when I was a kid?" "When's Easter in 2007?" While an encyclopedia might be able to tell me that Easter is the Sunday after the full moon after the spring equinox, it won't be able to give me the specific answers I need. My questions are too small, and they fall through the cracks of an encyclopedia.

Encyclopedias are useful if you need to write 500 words on the main causes of World War I, or you need to write a paragraph about trees, or you want to look at the retro 60s pictures in your parents' old World Book (which is thinly disguised US propoganda), but they are inherently finite and can't address the day to day research needs of the 21st century.