Dammit. Took two pictures of the lovely ribs I cooked tonight, and fucking Android decided to night and fog them. Shit is getting really old...
I received a tub of sweets for Christmas. It had a packet of Double Dip in it. I opened the tub yesterday to find that the packet of red sherbet (I forget if it's strawberry or cherry) has a hole in it, which means that not only is there no good sherbet left for when I come to eat it, everything else in the tub is all sticky! Woe is me.
Suit, check. Shirt, check. Shoes, check. Necktie, down to five choices. Pocket square, twelve. Socks, nine choices. And no one will notice.
In the long vacation of 1993, when I was in the UK for grad school, my mom came over and we did a tour. In Worcester we hit the china seconds shops and I bought two lunch plates and two soup bowls of a certain pattern. Nothing fancy, just cute, everyday crockery. Ever since I returned to the States, about every time I've opened my cupboard I've regretted that I only got two each of the pattern. Too late, it's out of production. And the pottery has closed. Rot. Just before Christmas, I was noticing how the stoneware lunch plates I got when I was an undergraduate are almost all broken or cracked, and again I was thinking how it was too bad I hadn't more of the English ones. On a whim, I checked the Internet (not for the first time). And this time I found an eBay seller who had the plates (and the bowls) at a reasonable cost. After thinking about it a few days, I ordered four more of each. They came yesterday and I opened the box tonight. Everything arrived intact, and the seller put in a dinner plate for free. But now that I have them, I feel flat about it. Even a little bereft. It's like I was actually enjoying my regret at not having bought those pieces when I was in England. It was tied up in some weird way with my experience there, and how much I miss it. Now that I have six of each, I can't feel that nostalgia anymore. Am I a 1st world doofus, or what?
Like I mentioned...last year? It's the social event of the year for us, in that there is literally only one proper social event each year, so I go all-out. I do need to get a white shirt order-made, northeast Asians have different general proportions to Caucasians and Africans, so we foreigners always find the sleeves on store-bought shirts are far too short. Other than that, I think it worked out well.
Not a doofus, but I feel your pain having also tried to please the female of the species with gifts... Hoogle Translate Male - English "Cool, Star Wars bubble bath, that's neat" = "Cool, Star Wars bubble bath, that's neat" Female - English "Wow, a necklace made with the koh-i-noor diamond! It's perfect" = "You'd better have kept the receipt, buster"
The dishes at my family's cottage were deliberately mismatched, each a one-of-a-kind pattern, and one of the plates was squared off, which was enough to make it different from the rest and therefore enough to make it "special" in the eyes of three kids ready to fight over any damn thing. We set up a pattern to take turns with the "special" plate, and then one year at Xmas my mom surprised us with a load of new square plates they'd collected at various antique shops and estate sales. Really thoughtful, sweet, fun gift... and it reduced the value of a square plate to nothing. None of us cared anymore, not about the original square plate, and not about the new ones. Value in scarcity, I guess!
It's not the chemicals in paper bag. It's the chemicals fruit let out when they ripen up. Bag helps keeping ethylene near bananas. Tomatos also help ripening if you put them in the bag. H2C=CH2 alias C2H4 is your friend here. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ethylene
My FWW is that I can't pay my Vodafone bill, as it claims I have the wrong customer number (I don't) and that I have the wrong mobile number (I don't). So now I have to go into town to get it sorted out! WTF?! So much for banking making things easier. Does it fuck! ETA: I know that I am using the correct numbers asked for, as I have my contract under my nose, and I copied the numbers digit by digit.
Actual conversation at the shop this morning... "What can we do for you today?" "Do you have any 21700s?" "I do not, Chirstmas hit us hard. All I have left are 18650s and a couple 26650s." (These are lithium ion battery sizes, btw.) "Okay. I can get by with 18650s, I have the adapter." "Cool. This is the fun part where I have to card you." "For what." "Thanks to the FDA, anything you get from us counts as a tobacco product." "How old do you have to be?" "18." "It's not posted." "It's on the door twice, and it's on that great big sticker in the window." "It's not posted here." (Meaning at the register.) "And that changes what?" "It has to be posted here." "According to whom?" "Whom? What, are you some kind of f***ing English professor?"
My keyboard at work is all stiff and grungy. It makes it hard to type. Which makes it hard to write. Bleh.
As a former maintenance tech, I know firsthand. You can tell many personal things when you clean out a keyboard. Sex (as far as it goes), lipstick, mustache, beard, cologne, perfume, hygiene, what they eat, coffee or tea and how they take it, how they type, how they sit, certain body chemistry. There's more than enough DNA to identify users. Keyboards do not like spills, of course, but there are an interesting few evil enemies and misconceptions. Coffee, tea, and Cola will make it sticky from sugar. Juices have varying degrees of threat. These may require dissasembly for restoring. Catastrophic spills are a death sentence if not powered down immediately (40/60 chance of recovery) and require disassembly. Most cleaners are acceptable, with the exception of petro, ammonia, tsp, bleach, and dishwasher. I have given keyboards a bath before (for stubborn keys). Driving out moisture and thorough drying are paramount. The Numer One keyboard Killer - Wine. Happy keyboarding!