Nom de Plume

Angels are singing, cherubim are beaming, and a shaft of light is bathing me in its glow. (Oh wait, that last is the leaking skylight.)

Drumroll.

We have heat!

Today’s temperature high was around 55 degrees.

Outside, that is.

The high inside was around 52.

That’s because Mr. Demo disconnected a pipe back in August and has forbidden me to turn the heat on until he reconnects it. This is what I looked like today. All day. Inside. Working. My fingertips are frozen. Not that I’m bitter.

Harry doesn’t look much better. In fact, he’s pretty traumatized by the cold because he was forced to wear this:

Pumpkin carving last night at Adam and Leah’s.

When I was a teenager we lived in Greece. In the Embassy, there was a “put and take” library that I would scour looking for regency romance novels. One day, I found what was obviously a dirty book–and naturally, I sneaked it home in my magenta L.L Bean backpack with the reflective stripe. I was thrilled. But when I finally got home, locked my bedroom door (even though no one was home), and pulled out the ragged paperback, I realized that it was so abstracted out that it made no sense at all. I can’t remember much about the book now, except for the fact that it had odd names for all the dirty bits and featured scenes that a 14-year old in search of some simple smut found bewildering. I had forgotten about that book until I closed the cover on Berger’s Neighbors.

Earl Keese is a typical suburbanite with a stereotypical life: He commutes to the city on the train, is relatively happily married, has a college-age daughter he adores. Add to this the fact that he is a pompous bore.

On Earl’s street, there are only two houses. And he has new neighbors. He and his wife Enid are discussing whether to invite them to drinks when one of them appears at the door. Her name is Ramona and she quickly tells Earl that he’s too fat–a harbinger of the type of exchange to come. Then her partner Harry comes barreling in. Earl makes the fatal mistake of inviting them to dinner–only there is no food in the house and all the shops in the village are closed. From here commences what some call a comedy of errors between Harry and Ramona and Earl. Is Earl paranoid that Harry and Ramona are out to get him? Whose side is Enid on, anyway? The novel descends into outright guerilla warfare, but Earl soon realizes that he likes Harry and Ramona more than he likes his own family.

And I had the same bewildered reaction to this as I did when I was 14, cracking open the covers of that dirty novel. Earl’s paranoia is clear; so is the fact that this is a parody of suburban life. What is less, clear, however, is what we are supposed to make of it. The novel lurches from one improbable scene to the next. This improbability is, of course, purposeful–but for all its purpose, it is no less incomprehensible. I have read different descriptions of Neighbors: comic, hysterically funny, a witty tour de force, a brilliant indictment of suburban life. It goes on and on. But you know, I didn’t find this funny in the slightest. Instead, I found it inexplicably bizarre. And it just seemed so pointless.

It was a disappointment. I’m pretty sure it was the performance. But having neither read the play beforehand nor seen another performance, I had nothing to compare it to. The guy playing the husband was great, but the other two felt so forced.

And it was a stupid thing, but the British accents were off. Steve spent the whole ride home mimicking, “RemembAH? RemembAH?”

This is a very very strange soap, but also very very appealing in a strange sort of way.

Basic one pound wonder x 2 with an ounce of unsweetened baking chocolate melted with the oils. Lye was mixed with very strong (even for me) coffee. At trace, added 1/4 cup freshly roasted and ground coffee along with the following EOs:

2 TB lime
2 TB coriander
1 tsp lavender
1 tsp clove
1 TB palmarosa

It feels very luxurious, but for the life of me don’t know how to describe it.

**Update: I LOVED, LOVED, LOVED this soap. Alas, it’s all gone now.

The basic one-pound wonder batch x 2.

I added a heaping tablespoon of ground annato powder to the oils before they were melted. At trace, added 4 TB orange EO and 1 TB sandalwood FO. Then I couldn’t resist sprinkling vanillin on the top. Did you know that vanillin is a byproduct of the paper industry? Neither did I, but it does discolor soap a deep brown. Which looks very cool. And it smells wonderful — even for someone who doesn’t like vanilla-scented stuff that much.

**Update: Too much annato makes it super scrubby and gives it orange foam. Neither of which is a BAD thing, just not what I expected.

**Update 2: Citrus EOs tend to fade, but even after three months, this has kept its orange scent really well. This is a keeper.

Here we are, entering the side.

The narrow walkway. You note the clawfoot tub that has yet to be installed, along with Steve’s windsurf board.

What is that peeking behind the bamboo? Yep, it’s a hot tub. After I planted that evil little seed of the hot tub for the deck, we went out looking at them … but got this one free from some neighbors who were getting rid of it. Nothing wrong with it at all, and we love it.

Need more privacy! We planted this bamboo (yes, MORE bamboo) this weekend. It looks kind of messy right now, but will eventually be a very nice screen.

Sitting in the hot tub gives a great view of the Japanese garden.

The best thing about giving Steve lots and lots of cool presents for his birthday yesterday is that his competitive spirit is now roused, and he will try to top gift-giving for my own birthday next month. One of the big presents was an iPod Nano; he wanted to start listening to podcasts.

I am the technical person in the relationship. Steve, bless his little heart, is clueless. “Zia? Can you help me? My mouse isn’t working,” is a common complaint. “Zia? Can you help me? My computer won’t turn off.” It’s endearing.

So given his technological ineptitude, I thought I would get him an iPod. I thought it would be easiest for him to use. Personally, I don’t like them: They are just too hip and there are lots of better, more cost-effective, alternatives out there. I use a Cowon iAudio U2. I use iPodder to download and every couple of weeks erase and load it back up using nothing but Windows folders. It’s not fancy, but it’s quick and easy.

Not so the iPod. It is a royal pain in the ass.

I will admit, it looks very, very cool. The minimalist packaging is a joy to behold. But there’s a darker side: That very minimalist packaging includes minimalist instructions. The default display was in Japanese. No instructions on how to change it included in the box. So I had to go online to find instructions. These are the most f-ed up instructions I have ever seen. To wit:

Scroll down to the last menu option but don’t select it.
Scroll up one menu item. This should be Settings.
Press the Center (Select) button. This takes you to the Settings menu.
Scroll down to the last menu option but don’t select it; in English, this is the “Reset All Settings” option.
Scroll up to the third menu item from the bottom one. This should be Language.
Press the Center button to select Language.
Select your preferred language from the list.

I finally got it after deciphering that their “third menu item from the bottom one” actually meant “two above the one you are not supposed to choose” rather than “three above the bottom one you are not supposed to choose.” Could this be any more complicated? Why yes it could, because then I had to download the latest version of iTunes to set it up.

I hate iTunes.

I’m sure iTunes is great for people who are managing vast music collections, but for simple podcasts? It’s a pain and it’s a huge memory hog.

But download it I did. It comes bundled with the latest version of QuickTime, which obnoxiously installs itself on one’s startup menu and task bar and requires one to remove it.

Okay, setup complete. I copied and pasted on to the device as I normally do. But would that work? Oh no, I had to use iTunes to import the folders and then load it on to the stupid thing. (Have I told you how much I hate iTunes?) It’s all loaded up now; Steve bounded out of the house this morning with little white wires dangling from his ears. And I, the person who is going to have to load it up for Steve, am searching for hacks so I can completely avoid iTunes.

So the bottom line: iPods are a pain. But then again, my little iPod recipient couldn’t be happier. And there you have it.

Pug: $800
Getting lip warts removed from pug: $127.32
Giving removed lip warts to boyfriend as birthday gift: Priceless