Nom de Plume

I have become totally addicted to auctions.

There’s a place in Renton that auctions off estates, and I’ve been going quite regularly–coming home laden with stuff I don’t need (and in many cases, I confess, that I don’t really want). It’s easy to get caught up in the heat of it all. The first one I went to found me with three Kaoru Kawano woodblocks. Sure, the price was right–but I don’t even really LIKE Kawano prints. I think he was a pedophile; all his little girls look really freaky. I’ve bought table linens, kitchen goodies (the $5 espresso maker was a real winner), random pottery …

But I have to tell you: I am really pleased with the carpet I just bought last Thursday.

Never mind the fact that I don’t need new rugs.

Now, I’m on a kick to become a carpet expert. I checked out a bunch of books from the library, and am thinking that it may be a Lesghi Shirvan carpet. Does anyone know anything about carpets? Am I right?

Also, I have two carpets that were my great great grandfather’s, and am pretty sure that they are a Fereghan …

and an Akstafa …

Anyone?

Ok, for all you who requested a photo of the dishwasher, here you go. But I warn you that it’s not terribly exciting, unless you’ve been washing dishes in the bathtub for the past three months. (And can I also add that I’ve never had one of those newfangled dishwashers where you don’t have to wash the dishes before washing the dishes? I’m in heaven.)

Much more exciting, however, is the fact that the pendant lights arrived and Steve hooked them up.

The rest of the kitchen is, as you can see, a disaster.

“You have to watch Rome,” our neighbor Geoff told us. “It’s amazing.” So Steve and I got sucked into the first season of Rome, and we loved it. We had a routine: a couple of nights a week, we’d hot tub, then get in bed with my old laptop (we don’t have a TV) and a Rome DVD from Blockbuster. Then we ran out of Rome, and we were sad.

“You like Rome?” a coworker asked Steve. “You’ve got to try Deadwood.” So then we got sucked into the world of Deadwood, seasons one and two. Steve started raving about how we needed a TV and cable. It ended, and we were bummed. We’ve tried other shows, but nothing is very good. I think we lucked out on those two shows, but it all goes to show just how awful most television is.

It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

See, the thing is I’ve been going through a webistential crisis. I just can’t seem to shake the feeling that I’m doing nothing more than contributing to the great cyberlandfill that is push-button publishing. (And on a semi-related note, I wonder if anyone has done a study showing the spike in natural resources required to maintain all the data centers that host the ever-growing number of blogs).

But that’s okay; I think I’m over it now. I took a break, and now I find I’m missing the blog.

Bad joke overheard at a neighboring restaurant table:

Defense Secretary Gates briefed the President this morning.

He told Bush that three Brazilian soldiers were killed in Iraq. To everyone’s amazement, all of the color ran from Bush’s face, then he collapsed onto his desk, head in hands, visibly shaken, almost whimpering.

Finally, he composed himself and asked Gates, “Just exactly how many is a brazillion?”

1. I hate cleaning. I really hate cleaning under duress, i.e., when my mother outlaw is coming for a visit. On a related note, why is it that when men don’t clean, they’re just being men–and when women don’t clean, they’re slothful pigs?

2. If the house across the street is repossessed, it will be auctioned off. Cash only. The woman whose name was on the notice pinned to the door was harried and not just a little rude. On the other hand, I’m meeting with our realtor tomorrow and she’s doing a bit of research for me. Plus, I’m now officially qualified for a loan.

3. I love the clawfoot in the bathtub, but I think we may just have to get it reporcelained. I just spent five solid minutes scrubbing it. Which doesn’t sound like a lot, but it really is.

4. I wish I had a diet coke.

5. My new laptop shipped today–YAY! I ended up getting the Chembook 4030 (Compal HGL30) from Discount Laptops. Considering the dearth of reviews out there, I’ll probably post one. Or at least I will intend to post one, and thus be on my merry way to hell. For now, I’ll just say that it has a Core 2 Duo 2.16 GHz processor and 2 GB of RAM and a newfangled video card that should support all the Vista goodies–though really, do I care about Aero? Probably not.

6. For those of you wondering whether Harry’s new homemade diet is making a difference, the answer is a resounding YES. The nasty food allergy rashes are gone and he’s regrown all the fur he lost on his belly.

7. Once again, I am woefully behind on book reviews.

8. I really, really, really need to update Quickbooks so I can get my taxes done.

9. Tonight, Geoff and I are going to an auction house in Renton. Should be fun.

and finally

10. Did I mention I hate cleaning? Well, back at it …

From the Tabakat-i Nasiri, written by court historian Minhaju-s Siraj:

Sultan Raziya was a great monarch. She was wise, just, and generous, a benefactor to her kingdom, a dispenser of justic, the protector or her subjects, and the leader of her armies. She was endowed with all the qualities befitting a king, but she was not born of the right sex, and so in the estimation of men all these virtues were worthless. (May God have mercy on her!)

In the time of her father, Sultan Sa’id Shamsu-d din, she had exercised authority with great dignity. Her mother was the chief wife of his majesty, and she resided in the chief royal palace in the Kushk-firizi. The Sultan discerned in her countenance the signs of power and bravery, and although she was a girl and lived in retirement, yet when the Sultan returned from the conquest of Gwalior, he directed his secretary Taju-l Malik Mahmud to put her name in writing as heir of the kingdom, and successor to the throne.

Before this farman was executed, the servants of the State, who were in close intimacy with his majesty represented that, seeing the kind had grown up sons who were worthy of the dignity, what wisdom could there be in making a woman their heir to a Muhammadan throne, and what advantage could accrue from it? They besought him to set their minds at ease, for the course that he proposed seemed very inexpedient. The king replied, “My sons are devoted to the pleasures of youthm and no one of them is qualified to be kind. They are unfit to rule the country, and after my death you will find that there is no one more competent to guide the State than my daughter.”

It was afterwards agreed by common consent that the king had judged wisely.

When Sultan Raziya succeeded to the throne, all things reverted to their old order. But the wazir of the State, Nizamu-l Mulk Junaidi did not give his adhesion. He, together with Malik Jani, Malik Kochi, Malik Kabir Khan, and Malik Izzu-d din Muhammad Salari assembling from different parts of the country at the gates of Delhi, made war against Sultan Raziya, and hostilities were carried on for a long time. After a while, Malik Nasiru-d din Tabashi Mu’izzi, who was governor of Oudh, brought up his forces to Delhi to the assistance of Sultan Raziya. When he had crossed the Ganges, the generals, who were fighting against Delhi, met him unexpectedly and took him prisoner. He then fell sick and died.

The stay of the insurgents at the gates of Delhi was protracted. Sultan Raziya, favoured by fortune, went out from the city and ordered her tents to be pitched at a place on the banks of the Jumna. Several engagements took place between the Turkish nobles who were on the side of the Sultan, and the insurgent chiefs. At last, peace was effected, with great adroitness and judicious management. Malik Izzu-d din Muhammad Salar and Malik Izzu-d din Kabir Khan Ayyaz secretly joined the Sultan and came at hight to her majesty’s tents, upon the understanding the Malik Jani, Malik Kochi, and Nizamu-l Mulk Janaidi were to be summoned and closely imprisoned, so that the rebellion might subside. When these chiefs were informed of this matter they fled from their camps, and some horsemen of the Sultan pursued them. Malik Kochi and his borther Fakhru-d din were captured, and were afterward killed in prison. Malik Jani went into the mountains of Bardar, and died there after a while.

Actually, we didn’t do a thing. I had to run to the store in the afternoon, though, so I called Steve to see if he needed anything. What were we doing for dinner, he asked. I replied that I had thawed some fish. “But it’s Valentine’s Day!”

“Yeah, so?” I replied.

“And you’re my bitch!”

He’s so cute when he tries to be misogynistic.

Well, the title says it all, doesn’t it?

Still, credit must go to nonanon, who is wresting some meaning out of this beknighted day. It’s all about love affairs … with the written word. Sure, books can’t buy you chocolate. But they don’t line the coffers of Hallmark either.

Getting into the Dead Sea water pool right after shaving is a very, very bad idea.