rachelmanija: (It was a monkey!)
2017-08-20 01:14 pm

It was a camel!

This clip from CNN is well worth listening to.

It encapsulates both the jaw-dropping awfulness and bizarreness of the Orange Supremacist era, and the extent to which the mainstream media has gotten so appalled that they're dropping their usual false equivalency. I mean the old "both sides have a point," which works when both sides DO have a point, but does not when you're talking about Nazis vs. anti-Nazis or Cheetolini vs. human beings with empathy. Also, it made me laugh.

Yesterday post-rally [personal profile] hederahelix and I were discussing this.

"It's just so surreal," she said. "Hey... Is that a camel?"

I looked over. The U-haul next to us had a giant camel painted on the side.

Below the camel, as if in explanation of why a U-haul would be decorated with a giant camel, were a few lines of Wikipedia-esque notes on camels, something like "A camel is an even-toed ungulate within the genus Camelus, bearing distinctive fatty deposits known as "humps" on its back."
rachelmanija: (Bleach: Parakeet of DOOM)
2015-09-21 01:16 pm

Today my Pillsbury buttermilk biscuits exploded

While I was sitting peacefully in my kitchen, I heard a loud bang, immediately followed by a clatter. I turned around and saw a sight which I am now sorry I did not photograph. It consisted of the trash bag into which I had chucked a large unopened can of Pillsbury buttermilk biscuits upon cleaning out my refrigerator and discovering that they had expired months ago, the open and empty can standing upright all the way across the kitchen from the trash bag, and three uncooked buttermilk biscuits scattered across the kitchen, like pale cow pattys.

This is not the first time I've had something explode in my kitchen, but it was possibly the most spectacular.
rachelmanija: (Gundam Wing: Heero falling)
2012-02-20 04:33 pm

Rainbow Mistake Cake

In addition to making a raspberry cake for the dinner tonight, I decided to surprise my Queer Narrative class with a special Rainbow Pride Cake, inspired by a jar of decorative rainbow ball thingies I spotted next to the baking powder.

It turns out that if you fold rainbow balls into white cake batter, you do not get white batter speckled with rainbow balls. You get purplish-brown batter, the color of a nasty bruise, speckled with white balls. If I'd had chocolate, I'd have dumped some with the hope of it turning into a normal chocolate cake (with white balls.) But I don't have chocolate.

I am going to ice it, dump the remaining rainbow balls on top of the icing, and bring it on on the theory that students will prefer funny-looking homemade cake to no homemade cake.
rachelmanija: (Text: She runs lunatic)
2011-09-30 02:01 pm

It could TRULY only happen to Rachel

The instructor of my Human Sexuality class has been replaced with a different instructor. I may be getting an entirely new syllabus. I don't know whether to laugh, cry, or scream. Perhaps all of the above!
rachelmanija: (Timbuktu to Uttar Pradesh)
2011-05-27 01:43 pm

I just got kicked out of a hair salon

Okay, I didn't literally get thrown out with a parting, "And never come back!" But they did decline to accept my business.

(I used to think nobody ever really said, "And never come back!" That was before I got kicked out of a martial arts school with those exact words.)

Recently, I have started getting very bright, glittery white hairs. Just a few, but growing close together. They're quite pretty. I decided it would be useful to my future career, and hopefully cool, to enhance this effect by having the entire lock dyed white. (When I was about nine, I had a sort of platonic-admiring crush on a woman I knew who had black hair with a single white lock, which she told me was natural. It could happen!)

I got an appointment at the salon and attempted to explain what I wanted. This is how it went:

Stylist: "You mean you want blonde highlight?"

Me: "No, white highlights. See where it's going naturally white? I want you to make it look like the whole lock went white."

Stylist: "But that would make you look older."

Me: "I want to look older!"

Stylist (appalled): "Why would anyone want that?!"

Me: "For my career."

Stylist: "What???"

Me: "I'm thirty-seven!"

Stylist (astounded): "You are?!"

Me: "I'm trying to look my age."

Stylist: "Okay, well, it is impossible to dye hair white. Or gray! It can't be done! You have to bleach it, and then the hair is destroyed!"

Me (holding out white hairs): "You're telling me it's impossible to dye in more of these?"

Stylist (folding arms): "That's right!"

I left. I assume it cannot possibly really be impossible to dye hair white, even if you do have to bleach it twice. (Correct me if I'm wrong!) I'm thinking of trying a salon that caters more to punks, and walking in with a photo of Rogue from The X-Men, and just saying, "I want a white streak like Rogue's, right here."
rachelmanija: (Bleach: Parakeet of DOOM)
2010-09-07 11:17 am

Dangerous Jam

I spent the weekend attending [personal profile] coraa and [profile] jmpava's wedding, which was lovely and moving, and was the first wedding I have ever been to which featured a jaguar and an owl. (It was at the Seattle zoo.) I also got to meet [personal profile] faithhopetricks and her husband T and their cats, which was wonderful - I think she is the LJ friend I have up till now known longest and best without actually meeting.

However, I am here to tell you about dangerous jam.

As a wedding present, I carefully put together and gift-wrapped a box of local, artisinal Los Angeles foods, including a jar of golden raspberry jam. At LAX, I was pulled from the line due to jam. Over my protests, the box was unwrapped and searched.

"Can't you just check it for explosives?" I asked. "It's jam!"

"I know it's jam," said the unruffled security guy. "It already passed the explosive test. But you're not allowed to bring more than three ounces of gels onboard, and that's five ounces." (Or something.)

I am going to try to keep the security ranting to a minimum in this post, but I just want to highlight the utter Orwellian idiocy of knowing that a substance is harmless, but refusing to let it onboard due to security theatre - regulations which everyone involved knows are pointless and have nothing to do with safety, but are just there because once a rule is enacted, it becomes impossible to ever roll back. And therefore jam is forever banned from airlines - but only medium to large jars! Small jars of the same jam are totally okay!

Fuming, I re-wrapped the box and was sent back to check my suitcase. The airline charged me $20 to check my one piece of checked luggage, containing my deadly jam.

When I arrived in Seattle, I opened my suitcase. A paper fluttered out, informing me that my suitcase had been selected for more searching. The wrapping paper had once again been ripped off my box of terrifying jam, and my underwear had been stolen.

I should note that these were not fancy, fetishy, or even expensive panties. They were boring, basic, cotton, totally unsexy panties purchased at Target. Fuming again, I borrowed wrapping paper, wrapped the box for the third time, and got a friend of the bride to drive me to Target to buy more underwear. I am convinced that some creepy security guy has a Criminal Minds-esque room completely wallpapered with stolen underwear.

It was then that I opened my purse to get out my wallet to buy my replacement underwear. In the side pocket in which I keep my wallet, there were two items which I had forgotten were there and which I had been allowed to carry aboard the plane: a miniature pry bar (a banned tool, not obviously dangerous but which I could certainly use to hurt someone in a pinch) and a straight edge - a long razor blade set into a folding handle, only differing from the box-cutters of 9/11 infamy in that my razor blade was about twice as long as the standard box-cutter.

But hey! At least they managed to prevent me from getting anyone's hair sticky with jam.
rachelmanija: (Oh noes!)
2010-08-25 12:11 pm

Has this ever happened to anyone else?

I noticed that a container of tzadziki yogurt dip, purchased a couple days ago from Trader Joe's and kept refrigerated and unopened, had developed a suspiciously bulging shape. I took off the lid, and indeed the plastic shrink-wrap beneath was bulging up like the whole thing was about to explode. I am a paranoid American, so I put it in the trash can under the sink.

About ten minutes later, I heard a small explosion. A check of the trash can revealed that indeed, it had exploded!

1. This sort of thing only ever happens to me, right? Or does it???

2. Should I alert Trader Joe's? Or check my refrigerator (it seems fine - at least, nothing else has rotted and/or exploded)?

3. WTF happened? Gases produced by decomposing yogurt? Could this phenomenon be harnessed as a cheap energy source?

4. If I was a Heinlein hero, it would take me ten minutes of math to answer question 3. Probably "no."
rachelmanija: (Ratties)
2010-05-19 11:25 am

Another Pants Adventure

This happened a while back, but I was recently reminded of it and I seem to have never told this story on LJ, or if I did I neglected to tag it.

Kate, do not read! Contains skittering.

Cut for mouse )
rachelmanija: (Default)
2010-05-05 12:28 pm

(no subject)

The events story happened a while back, but I was reminded of it recently after sending not one, but TWO emails to the wrong people. Luckily, neither was embarrassing (one flight itinerary, one reference to calling someone whose phone number I don't actually have.) Unlike the story which follows!

Since this is unlocked, I am changing names and identifying details.

I got a mass email about something like save the whales from a person whose name I read as... I'll call him Josh Rosenthal. Josh Rosenthal is a guy I know, about my age, not a close friend but a buddy I occasionally hang out with when our paths cross. A funny guy. I've told him stories about my dating woes, and he laughs.

I replied, "Hey Josh, long time no hear! What's up? Did you hear that Felicia [a mutual friend] got engaged? Not much is up with me, but I did go on a date last week - and no, I didn't get laid. When I got into my car, he tried to kiss me. I ducked and he stuck his tongue in my ear. And that's the most action I've seen all year. Hope all's well with you."

Readers, I mailed this missive.

The next day, I found this reply: "Hi, Rachel, all's well with me. Who's Felicia? I hope the incident you mention wasn't too disturbing. Stay safe."

I read that in some confusion. Surely Josh knew Felicia. And what was with the weird response to my tongue-in-ear story?

Then I double-checked the sender. The save the whales email had not come from Josh Rosenthal, but from Josh RosenBLUM - a movie producer quite a bit older than me, with whom I had a purely professional relationship, as in I'd pitched a movie to him a while back, which apparently put me on his mailing list.

And to whom I had randomly sent a non-sequitor, TMI message about getting my ear penetrated, in response to a mass mailing about whales.

I was so flustered that I attempted to cover my ass by writing, "Hi, Josh, Felicia is [another producer - this is actually true] whom I mentioned during my pitch [who knows, but I certainly could have]. I mentioned the date because the guy in question was a big environmental activist, and your whale message reminded me of that. [Not even remotely true.] It wasn't disturbing, just a bit ungentlemanly for an activist. Best wishes, Rachel."

And then I clicked send.

An instant later, I thought, "What the hell was I thinking? Why didn't I just explain what had happened? That would have made so much more sense and been less embarrassing than what I actually did. Now, rather than sending one inappropriate message followed by an explanation and apology, I've sent him TWO inappropriate and bizarre messages!"

Has anyone else been the victim of internet crossed wires, or compounded an innocent mistake with an attempt to cover your ass which made it much worse than if you'd just confessed? Please comfort me with your own stories of humiliation and woe.
rachelmanija: (Bleach: Parakeet of DOOM)
2010-04-07 10:29 am

Parakeet of DOOM

I am dog-sitting at the moment and, incidentally, also parakeet-sitting. The parakeets, however, already had their food and water filled up so I basically just ignore them.

A few minutes ago I saw a blue streak flutter past, low to the floor. Simultaneously the dogs (mellow chihuahua, hysterical mini dachshund currently in Elizabethan collar) went berserk, yapping and pursuing the escaped blue parakeet.

Once when I pet-sat for these same people their lizard (which they had forgotten to tell me had seemed lethargic) dropped dead on the first night. How much worse would it be to inform them that their dogs ate their parakeet?

I pursued the dogs, which pursued the parakeet, around and around the living room. Finally I hustled the dogs into their crate (very much against their will) and pursued the parakeet by myself. It bit me. Hard. Twice. And would not let go, even when I put it back into its cage. I had to pry its beak open. OW.

I then saw that the cage door had not been left open, and there was no obvious escape route. Odd!

Upon releasing the hounds, I quickly saw what must have happened, as the fiendish dachshund, which has a back injury and is not supposed to jump, leaped up to the bird cage, popping the lever and snapping the door open! Irritatingly, the cage is too big to move to another room.

I have now constructed a giant barricade around the cage (two chairs, six pillows, one giant bean bag. The mini dachshund has been hurling herself against it and whining for the entire time it took to write this entry.

I think I may stick the dogs back in the crate and go to Starbucks.

ETA: Forgot to mention: the cage door isn't the only problem. The parakeets get hysterical if she jumps against it, and I'm worried that even if she can't release them, they'll have heart attacks. The cage, unfortunately, is in the living room.

ETA II: Decided cage wasn't too big to move and crammed it into another room. Dachshund now hurling herself against closed door and howling.

...that dog has lived with these same birds for four years but NOW they're interesting.
rachelmanija: (Bleach: Parakeet of DOOM)
2010-04-07 10:29 am

Parakeet of DOOM

I am dog-sitting at the moment and, incidentally, also parakeet-sitting. The parakeets, however, already had their food and water filled up so I basically just ignore them.

A few minutes ago I saw a blue streak flutter past, low to the floor. Simultaneously the dogs (mellow chihuahua, hysterical mini dachshund currently in Elizabethan collar) went berserk, yapping and pursuing the escaped blue parakeet.

Once when I pet-sat for these same people their lizard (which they had forgotten to tell me had seemed lethargic) dropped dead on the first night. How much worse would it be to inform them that their dogs ate their parakeet?

I pursued the dogs, which pursued the parakeet, around and around the living room. Finally I hustled the dogs into their crate (very much against their will) and pursued the parakeet by myself. It bit me. Hard. Twice. And would not let go, even when I put it back into its cage. I had to pry its beak open. OW.

I then saw that the cage door had not been left open, and there was no obvious escape route. Odd!

Upon releasing the hounds, I quickly saw what must have happened, as the fiendish dachshund, which has a back injury and is not supposed to jump, leaped up to the bird cage, popping the lever and snapping the door open! Irritatingly, the cage is too big to move to another room.

I have now constructed a giant barricade around the cage (two chairs, six pillows, one giant bean bag. The mini dachshund has been hurling herself against it and whining for the entire time it took to write this entry.

I think I may stick the dogs back in the crate and go to Starbucks.

ETA: Forgot to mention: the cage door isn't the only problem. The parakeets get hysterical if she jumps against it, and I'm worried that even if she can't release them, they'll have heart attacks. The cage, unfortunately, is in the living room.

ETA II: Decided cage wasn't too big to move and crammed it into another room. Dachshund now hurling herself against closed door and howling.

...that dog has lived with these same birds for four years but NOW they're interesting.
rachelmanija: (Default)
2008-09-17 09:53 am

Berkeley miscellanea

1. [livejournal.com profile] oyceter, sorry, when I took a shower this morning one of the sliding doors fell off. I propped it against the wall. Also, can you please pop the postcards I left on the bed in with your outgoing mail?

2. While walking near the SF Fisherman's Wharf, I passed what, out of the corner of my eyes, looked like a shrubbery. Then it leaped to its feet, waving the leafy branches it had been crouched behind and shouting. I was quite startled. Especially since, eight years ago when I was there doing disaster relief for El Nino, I saw the same tree dude terrorizing tourists. I suppose it could be a different tree dude, but can one city really contain two men who disguise themselves as shrubs to frighten passersby?

3. I also saw a bride in full gown and veil, but with tennis shoes and a ratty sweater pulled over the gown, running down the street sobbing. One of the people with her explained that she had been jilted at the altar. Ouch.
rachelmanija: (Default)
2008-09-17 09:53 am

Berkeley miscellanea

1. [livejournal.com profile] oyceter, sorry, when I took a shower this morning one of the sliding doors fell off. I propped it against the wall. Also, can you please pop the postcards I left on the bed in with your outgoing mail?

2. While walking near the SF Fisherman's Wharf, I passed what, out of the corner of my eyes, looked like a shrubbery. Then it leaped to its feet, waving the leafy branches it had been crouched behind and shouting. I was quite startled. Especially since, eight years ago when I was there doing disaster relief for El Nino, I saw the same tree dude terrorizing tourists. I suppose it could be a different tree dude, but can one city really contain two men who disguise themselves as shrubs to frighten passersby?

3. I also saw a bride in full gown and veil, but with tennis shoes and a ratty sweater pulled over the gown, running down the street sobbing. One of the people with her explained that she had been jilted at the altar. Ouch.
rachelmanija: (Engaged!)
2008-09-13 11:18 am

Attack of the Caped Homophobes!

While driving with my Mom in the sleepy, touristy beachside town of Carmel, we were approaching their picturesque Fisherman's Wharf when we came alongside a small group of men picketing its parking lot.

They wore white shirts and red capes, and played bagpipes. Their picket signs read "PROTECT TRADITIONAL MARRIAGE" and "NO GAY 'MARRIAGE.'"

I rolled down the window and stuck out my head.

Me (berserk): "GAY RIGHTS!!!! GAY RIGHTS!!!! GO GAY MARRIAGE!!!!! GAY MARRIAGE YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!"

("A well-reasoned, persuasive argument," remarked [livejournal.com profile] oyceter when I recounted it to her later.)

Caped homophobes: "FUCK YOU!!"

Mom: "BABA BABA BABA STOP!!!"

Apparently I had shrieked loudly enough to attract the attention of the car in front of me, which slammed on its brakes. I slammed on mine. As we parked, next to an SUV with McCain bumperstickers ("I bet it belongs to the bagpipe gay-haters!" I exclaimed. "I oughtta key it!" "Revenge only hurts the revengeful one," said Mom.) Mom scolded me for temper and lowering myself, and informed me that I had just proved that anger causes fenderbenders.

Me (still foaming at the mouth): "And those bagpipes! What an ironic choice of instrument. Putting that phallic pipe in their mouth... Sucking and blowing on that long, hard, rod... Squeezing and caressing the bag (isn't that slang for scrotum?) while they suck on that pipe just like a hard, fat cock..."

Mom: "DON'T TALK SO LOUD!!!"

Indeed, a group of tourists had fallen in behind us and were taking great interest in our conversation.

The next morning I read in the local paper that the caped homophobes were not local, but an anti-gay group of "lay Catholics" from Pennsylvania, who were making a 30-state anti-gay tour and had chosen Carmel because they had a friend there they could crash with. It also quoted a local woman who had grabbed a rainbow flag and, accompanied by her father, staged a counter-demonstration.

"One doesn't expect to see that sort of thing in Carmel," she said. "It was like the Hitler Youth!"
rachelmanija: (Engaged!)
2008-09-13 11:18 am

Attack of the Caped Homophobes!

While driving with my Mom in the sleepy, touristy beachside town of Carmel, we were approaching their picturesque Fisherman's Wharf when we came alongside a small group of men picketing its parking lot.

They wore white shirts and red capes, and played bagpipes. Their picket signs read "PROTECT TRADITIONAL MARRIAGE" and "NO GAY 'MARRIAGE.'"

I rolled down the window and stuck out my head.

Me (berserk): "GAY RIGHTS!!!! GAY RIGHTS!!!! GO GAY MARRIAGE!!!!! GAY MARRIAGE YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!"

("A well-reasoned, persuasive argument," remarked [livejournal.com profile] oyceter when I recounted it to her later.)

Caped homophobes: "FUCK YOU!!"

Mom: "BABA BABA BABA STOP!!!"

Apparently I had shrieked loudly enough to attract the attention of the car in front of me, which slammed on its brakes. I slammed on mine. As we parked, next to an SUV with McCain bumperstickers ("I bet it belongs to the bagpipe gay-haters!" I exclaimed. "I oughtta key it!" "Revenge only hurts the revengeful one," said Mom.) Mom scolded me for temper and lowering myself, and informed me that I had just proved that anger causes fenderbenders.

Me (still foaming at the mouth): "And those bagpipes! What an ironic choice of instrument. Putting that phallic pipe in their mouth... Sucking and blowing on that long, hard, rod... Squeezing and caressing the bag (isn't that slang for scrotum?) while they suck on that pipe just like a hard, fat cock..."

Mom: "DON'T TALK SO LOUD!!!"

Indeed, a group of tourists had fallen in behind us and were taking great interest in our conversation.

The next morning I read in the local paper that the caped homophobes were not local, but an anti-gay group of "lay Catholics" from Pennsylvania, who were making a 30-state anti-gay tour and had chosen Carmel because they had a friend there they could crash with. It also quoted a local woman who had grabbed a rainbow flag and, accompanied by her father, staged a counter-demonstration.

"One doesn't expect to see that sort of thing in Carmel," she said. "It was like the Hitler Youth!"
rachelmanija: (Angel Sanctuary: Mad Hatter)
2008-09-03 10:36 am

The Tale of the Clown's Secret

One of the worst jobs I ever had was as PA (Production Assistant) for a company that shot commercials. I ran errands for up to eighteen hours a day for sixty dollars a day. One night I got so exhausted that I fell asleep while driving back from a shoot, and woke up six lanes over, still moving at sixty-five miles per hour. Then I found what I thought was a good parking space in front of my house, parked there, and collapsed. The next morning I discovered that the space had been empty because it had a fire hydrant, and my ticket wiped out my entire earnings for the day that had almost gotten me killed. I quit.

But before that happened, I arrived at office early one morning and opened the lobby door. The lobby was typically packed with actors if auditions for the next commercial were being held, so it was no surprise to me to find it full. But to my shock and horror, this morning it was full of clowns! Clowns of all genders, shapes and sizes! Clowns in full makeup and costume! Clowns sitting in every chair, clowns leaning against the walls, clowns gesticulating and twisting balloon animals!

Up until that moment, I had thought the phrase “reeled back in horror” was a figure of speech. I reeled back in horror, fetching up against the door. Then I yanked the door open, fled for my life, and slunk back into the office via the rear entrance.

This was in the mid 1990s, when commercials were even more surreal than is common nowadays. I frequently saw commercials where I never even figured out what was being advertised. This may or may not explain why Holiday Inn commissioned a TV spot in which three dwarf clowns and a great big fat clown chased a tall skinny bald clown through a Holiday Inn.

“Every lobby has free computer access,” explained a portentous voice as the clown chase hurtled through the lobby and past the computers. As the skinny bald clown raced across the surface of the swimming pool, and his clown pursuers fell in and then floundered after him, the narrator added, “All our swimming pools are fully heated.”

What if the house was filled with his evil clown confederates?! )
rachelmanija: (Angel Sanctuary: Mad Hatter)
2008-09-03 10:36 am

The Tale of the Clown's Secret

One of the worst jobs I ever had was as PA (Production Assistant) for a company that shot commercials. I ran errands for up to eighteen hours a day for sixty dollars a day. One night I got so exhausted that I fell asleep while driving back from a shoot, and woke up six lanes over, still moving at sixty-five miles per hour. Then I found what I thought was a good parking space in front of my house, parked there, and collapsed. The next morning I discovered that the space had been empty because it had a fire hydrant, and my ticket wiped out my entire earnings for the day that had almost gotten me killed. I quit.

But before that happened, I arrived at office early one morning and opened the lobby door. The lobby was typically packed with actors if auditions for the next commercial were being held, so it was no surprise to me to find it full. But to my shock and horror, this morning it was full of clowns! Clowns of all genders, shapes and sizes! Clowns in full makeup and costume! Clowns sitting in every chair, clowns leaning against the walls, clowns gesticulating and twisting balloon animals!

Up until that moment, I had thought the phrase “reeled back in horror” was a figure of speech. I reeled back in horror, fetching up against the door. Then I yanked the door open, fled for my life, and slunk back into the office via the rear entrance.

This was in the mid 1990s, when commercials were even more surreal than is common nowadays. I frequently saw commercials where I never even figured out what was being advertised. This may or may not explain why Holiday Inn commissioned a TV spot in which three dwarf clowns and a great big fat clown chased a tall skinny bald clown through a Holiday Inn.

“Every lobby has free computer access,” explained a portentous voice as the clown chase hurtled through the lobby and past the computers. As the skinny bald clown raced across the surface of the swimming pool, and his clown pursuers fell in and then floundered after him, the narrator added, “All our swimming pools are fully heated.”

What if the house was filled with his evil clown confederates?! )
rachelmanija: (Gundam 00: I am Gundam!)
2008-08-13 05:06 pm

Batteries and comics

The other day my remote car lock/unlock device died. I discovered this when, after a dental appointment, I could not remote-unlock the car. And as the remote-lock automatically sets the alarm, if you manually open the car, the alarm goes off and the car won't start.

After much fiddling, I phoned the dealership to ask how to manually turn off the alarm... and was told that you can't, and I'd either have to take a taxi to the dealership to get a new remote and then take it back to the car, or have to have the car towed! Alternatively, he added, the remote battery might be dead.

I proceeded to walk for half an hour, uphill and in the snow in the sun and on a street with no sidewalk, to the nearest hardware store to get that battery. Luckily a woman heard my hopeful inquiry about a bus back and gave me a ride. And yes. The car now starts. Has this ever happened to anyone else?

To relieve my stress (car, long hot walk, very painful tooth-cleaning), I went to the comic store where [livejournal.com profile] cyberpilate, who just won an Eisner Award (with others), works. I was really only looking for Tsubasa 18 DO NOT SPOIL and... er... more Moon Child. She pounced and proceeded to sell me Greg Rucka's Electra, Queen and Country, and Whiteout; Matt Fraction and Gabriel Ba's Casanova, Lea Hernandez's steampunk Cathedral Child, and a Thor one-shot called "Reign of Blood:"

Me: "I'm not into Thor."

Carla: "Look! They're raising a blood colossus!"

Shows me awesome splash page of giant zombie mecha.

Carla: "And there's Thor! Look, he's saying, 'I will pilot your blood colossus!'"

Me: "Sold!"

Also, I sold myself books one of DNAgents (collected-- blast from my past) and From Eroica With Love.

I should note that lots of this was on the 60% off shelf.

Anyone read any of these? Without plot spoilers... comments?
rachelmanija: (Gundam 00: I am Gundam!)
2008-08-13 05:06 pm

Batteries and comics

The other day my remote car lock/unlock device died. I discovered this when, after a dental appointment, I could not remote-unlock the car. And as the remote-lock automatically sets the alarm, if you manually open the car, the alarm goes off and the car won't start.

After much fiddling, I phoned the dealership to ask how to manually turn off the alarm... and was told that you can't, and I'd either have to take a taxi to the dealership to get a new remote and then take it back to the car, or have to have the car towed! Alternatively, he added, the remote battery might be dead.

I proceeded to walk for half an hour, uphill and in the snow in the sun and on a street with no sidewalk, to the nearest hardware store to get that battery. Luckily a woman heard my hopeful inquiry about a bus back and gave me a ride. And yes. The car now starts. Has this ever happened to anyone else?

To relieve my stress (car, long hot walk, very painful tooth-cleaning), I went to the comic store where [livejournal.com profile] cyberpilate, who just won an Eisner Award (with others), works. I was really only looking for Tsubasa 18 DO NOT SPOIL and... er... more Moon Child. She pounced and proceeded to sell me Greg Rucka's Electra, Queen and Country, and Whiteout; Matt Fraction and Gabriel Ba's Casanova, Lea Hernandez's steampunk Cathedral Child, and a Thor one-shot called "Reign of Blood:"

Me: "I'm not into Thor."

Carla: "Look! They're raising a blood colossus!"

Shows me awesome splash page of giant zombie mecha.

Carla: "And there's Thor! Look, he's saying, 'I will pilot your blood colossus!'"

Me: "Sold!"

Also, I sold myself books one of DNAgents (collected-- blast from my past) and From Eroica With Love.

I should note that lots of this was on the 60% off shelf.

Anyone read any of these? Without plot spoilers... comments?
rachelmanija: (Bleach: Parakeet of DOOM)
2008-06-14 04:42 pm

I just got stuck inside my bedroom

The thingie which makes the doorknob work jammed, so I was unable to open the door to get out. I was also unable to telephone for help, as I had left my phone in the living room. Frantic jiggling did nothing. My only options seemed to be to email for help or scream out the window.

But then I remembered that my emergency supplies, including a screwdriver, are in my bedroom. Granted I had assumed "emergency" to be something a little more far-reaching than "trapped in bedroom by jammed doorknob," but an emergency is an emergency. I unscrewed the plate, but that failed to free the knob. But I was able to manually push the lock thingie down, releasing myself. My landlord is fixing it now.