In which I regress to the age of fifteen

I'm stealing a post from TMC, as I do from time to time. Hers is entitled "Against my better judgment,let the snickering begin."

Since I had left a comment, and read her blog entry twice, I conclude I have a need to indulge in a totally juvenile activity - the game of "who do you think is cute?" I'm old enough to remember conversations about "who's your favorite Beatle?", though I was very young. I also rememer my answer: "Keith Richards." The Beatles were too clean cut for my taste. When I was a young girl, my two rock star crushes were Keith Richards and Jim Morrison. I felt somewhat ashamed of my crush on Jim Morrison. His raw sexuality seemed a little too much for a very young girl to handle. Or maybe I had a sense that he could be dangerous. Maybe he was the kind of person for whom things like the age of consent meant nothing. I suspect that may have been true, but it's interesting to me that I even gave this any thought.

I want to point out that there seems to be a double standard for men and women when it comes to discussions of this nature. It's okay for women to sit around talking about who they find hot (or to write a silly blog post about it). It's not really okay for men to do the same thing. Sure, they can do it when they're with a bunch of other men, but if some guy had a blog post like TMC's (or the one I'm attempting to get to), he'd be eviscerated by his girlfriend. Women can be quite jealous about celebrity crushes. They also (and I'm not immune to this one) can feel badly about even hearing about "who's hot and who's not" from men. We think, "Oh, I can't possibly live up to her, or women like her!" And no, I can't. But why is it okay for us women to write about men as if they were just sex objects? Does it make men feel bad (and they're just not saying anything about it)?

One time I was at a family gathering and three generations of women were all looking at People Magazine's "100 Sexiest Men of 2007." Do they even have a special issue for sexiest women, or is that just reserved for Sports Illustrated? Anyway, all three generations of women agreed that Johnny Depp is hot. Did any of the men mope around for the rest of the day, harboring secret feelings of inadequacy and jealousy? I have no idea, but I doubt it. Think about how angry the women would be if all the men sat around perusing pics of sexy women during a family gathering. They'd be fuming!

Well, now that that's said, I'm starting to change my mind about this blog entry.

Never mind.

I'm skipping Johnny Depp. You've all seen enough pictures of him. Russell Brand is a good substitute in a pinch. I suppose that some women don't like men who tease their hair and wear more makeup than they do. But Brand's a funny guy with a British accent. That counts for a lot, in my book.



Matthew Gray Gubler, from CBS's "Criminal Minds", is the geek heart throb of many.
Let's not forget that "Dr. Spencer Reid"
is a fictional character, and Matthew Gray Gubler
was a runway model before he was a television actor.

It took me a long time to find a photograph of Cheng Chan in the film "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.


There's only a handful of official photographs. Most of the fan photographs are of Ziyi Zhang. She is gorgeous (especially when angry).


If it weren't for TMC, I would have not been able to tell you the name of an actor whose visage makes my heart beat just a little faster, Gurgon Kyap (seen here in the film "Himalaya").


I'd never thought of Bob Dylan as any sort of sex symbol until I saw the 1967
documentary "Don't Look Back."

This is ridiculous. There are so many celebrities whom I find sexy that I could sit at my laptop for a week and not be done with this post.

Matthew Gray Gubler is a real exception to my usual taste. Generally speaking, a person has to have a hooked or crooked nose to attract me. I have no idea why that is. My first real kiss was with a boy who had both a hooked and crooked nose. Which started first? The first kiss or the nose fetish? If I could answer that with any authority, I'd be able to solve the nature or nurture question, and I'd get the Nobel Prize, but that isn't going to happen.

I was teased by my friends for liking that boy. The other girls thought he was ugly. Not only did he have a funny nose, but he was scrawny and had long, stringy hair.

Another odd thing, about me, is that I much prefer long hair on a man than on a woman. Of course, there are always exceptions (like Matthew Gray Gubler). I find androgyny quite alluring, to say the least. If I can't tell what gender a person is, I am usually instantly smitten.

So, here ends one of the sillier entries I've posted on this blog. I'm not sure why I think celebrity crushes are a sillier subject than socks, which just got three full entries, but that's my way of thinking.

On the other hand, the reasons why we are attracted to certain types is a subject that I do find fascinating, and it's one that has merited a lot of study. Recently, though I can't remember where, I read that it's not only symmetry that attracts us, but "ordinary-ness." The word used in the study was something more succinct than the clunky non-word that I just used, but you get the picture. I am attracted to crooked noses, faces with obvious asymmetries, and ones that are truly out of the ordinary. "All American" looks turn me off. The women that grace the pages of men's magazines bore me silly. Studies also say that we are attracted to people who are our attractive equivalents. In other words, if you're a "5", you're usually attracted by another "5." But that doesn't quite make sense of my particular tastes. Of course, making sense out of my taste doesn't really matter, but I do find it, um, interesting.

So far all the financial requirements has been taken care by Nitin himself with some support from online friends. We need to understand that the current requirements are unprecedented and the resources are limited. The prime reason of making this film is to share the "real story" behind today's Bihar and the struggle of Biharis.

We need to showcase this film to as many people as possible, especially to the people of Bihar. All these activities need funds. We request you to buy the CD/VCD of Bring Back Bihar from us. The money thus generated will be used to publicize this movie and showcasing this movie to as many location as possible in Bihar and India.

If you want to associate with this movement please info.bringbackbihar@gmail.com.


To buy the CD/VCD please send mail to info.bringbackbihar@gmail.com

The price of the DVD is 399/- plus Rs 50/- for courier. Total 449/-.

Money can be transfered to Nitin's account directly. Here are the details.

We have decided to display the list which will have the name of buyers (I would like to call them as donors/supporters). Expense report will also be shared with the world.


NITIN CHANDRA
026301502421
ICICI BANK
LOKHANDWALA BRANCH
MUMBAI.

Socks, Part 3

Though I'm guessing I won't write about socks again for a while, there may indeed be a "Socks, Part 4." But for now, this'll be it. This is the entry about knitting and socks. If you have no interest in knitting, you may want to skip this one.

Knitting socks must be quite popular. On the Knitpicks site, there are 53 different books on sock knitting, and their bookstore, while extensive, is far from the largest on the web.

As much as I like to knit, and as enticing as all those beautiful photographs of socks are, it wasn't until fairly recently that I truly enjoyed knitting socks. The reason I didn't enjoy knitting socks was pretty straightforward - I found juggling four or five doubled pointed needles to be a pain. Here's what it looks like, for you non-knitters:

This photograph shows the knitting on three double pointed needles. One needs a fourth to actually knit. But wait: most people who use double pointed needles to knit socks use five needles. It's certainly not as hard as it looks, nor is it complicated, but that's a lot of needle juggling. One also has to make sure that the stitches don't fall off the ends of the needles and the the first and last stitches on each needle aren't too loose so that the knitting is even. Yes, it's the traditional, time-tested way of knitting socks, and most people still knit them this way, but it's just a big annoyance to me. I had a terrible case of SSS (Second Sock Syndrome):

". . .Knitters with SSS happily knit the first sock of a pair. . .When that sock is finished, they then find themselves completely and inexplicably unable to knit the second sock. . . .knitters with SSS feel boredom, monotomy, and the overwhelming urge to begin a new and unrelated pair of socks. Sadly, SSS is a repeating disease, and when the knitter casts on a new pair of socks, the cycle begins again. . ."
-from "At Knit's End"

There's a woman at my knitting group who knits socks at an amazing speed. It dawned on me one day that she wasn't using double pointed needles. What was she doing? She was using two pairs of circular needles. I won't even bother showing you a photograph, for if you're not a knitter, you won't have a clue what you're looking at. And if you are a knitter, you'll either know this method, or if you don't, well, just wait (for what? You'll see). Anyway, dispensing with the double pointed needles was a thrill. I've knit a few pairs of socks since my five minute mini-lesson.

Then I heard about two new things: knitting both socks at the same time and "The Magic Loop Method." Here's snapshot of the the Magic Loop Method:

I realize that this photograph will mean nothing to both knitters and non-knitters alike. If you're a knitter, the Knit Picks tutorial page on different methods of knitting in the round is the best I've seen (and it's free!)

The thing about the Magic Loop Method is that it indeed seems like magic. Even if you're a non-knitter, doesn't knitting a tube on one needle seem impossible? It did to me, but after I followed the directions on the link above, I knit up a pair of socks quicker than I'd ever done, and all the while I was thinking "wow." Now, I haven't yet knit two socks at once while using the Magic Loop method, which would be even quicker, but I've got a more than a few projects to finish first. They're not socks, so I don't know what syndrome I have now. I certainly have a problem with knitting the sleeves when I'm done with the body of a sweater, not finishing a sweater for myself after gaining enough weight to render said sweater unwearable, and the I'm-really-sick-of-knitting-on-size 0-needles syndrome. The shawl I just put aside for a while, well, if I hadn't used a yarn so thin that when you hold it up to the light you practically can't see it, those who-knows-how-many hundreds (or thousands?) of rows would be over twenty feet long by now. As it stands, I'm only about halfway done.

On the non-technical side of things, sock knitting has been more fun since yarn companies starting selling self-striping yarn. This stuff is amazing! The example at the top of the post is for simple stripes, but there are many companies that sell fair isle style balls of yarn, which produce results like these:

It's pretty amazing that this design was created using one continuous strand of yarn. Humans design it, but computers generate the "instructions" for how the yarn is dyed.

For more pics of Berocco Sox yarn, click here.

I'm still not a huge fan of sock knitting, though I often wonder why not. It's a short lived project with beautiful and practical results. What's not to love? I can't quite put my finger on a good answer to that question. Maybe I like more impractical knitting projects, like the endless shawl on size 0 needles (and for you non-knitters, size 0 needles are very thin, though there are also 00, 000, and 0000 needles, which I have knit on, thus proving how crazy I am).

Photo note: Knit Picks Felici sock yarn

Review:

Bring Back Bihar: moment of awakening

Film By Champaran Talkies

written/narrated/Directed by: Nitin Chandra

"Your Life begins to end the day you become silent about the things that matter"

                                                                                               - Martin Luther King Jr.

Yup, thats how the movie begins, with my alltime favorite quote. At the very onset, I'd clear this out, its about the injustice that Bihar and Biharis have faced for decades, intermittently, or regularly. Its about the vitriolism the Bihar and its inhabitants have been facing.

But then, don't watch it, only if u are a Bihari. Watch it as an Indian. It tells you, how Bihar the epitome of everything good, demarcated into a 'bimaru' state. You are informed, in a light manner, with all the figures, how after independence, every successive government has been biased against Bihar, in providing resources, giving opportunities. When in UP and Maharashtra, there are more than 500 engineering and medical colleges, and other institute, in Bihar we can count on fingers. Even the institutes which were here, of national stature have been taken out of the state. How Bihar has been deprived of everything, and yet abused!!!

No amount of Rhetoric can take away the pain, the stigma associated, when someone glances at you with a abhorrence when the person comes to know you are from Bihar. Your degree ceases to carry any educational value, any weightage. Its assumed they are fake, or, you would have been provided with ample scope for cheating. The erudite and the fashionable, simply delights in bogging down Bihar, with no further scope. How a simple layman carries immense hatred against Biharis. Biharis has been just sinned against.

The movie holds you captivated, hold you down to the core. It tells and shouts in loud voice that though without oppurtunities, scope, and with hatred, still Biharis have the acumen to rise.

We as a nation are doing nothing about the fact that one of our part is being deprived of the basic necessities, when other parts are dwelling in luxury. India, cannot progress, without Bihar being taken to the path of success. Nitin Chandra's documentary forces you to think over and over, how the regular flood feature which destroys millions of lives every year, and deprives people of their homes, and livelihood forces people to move out of the state. Only if the Government, did something in last 60 years to curb the menace. But alas! Government has been busy with SEZ's, Gujarat, and other things, when thousand die every year. Are the Biharis worth this for the leaders? Chandra goes to places throughout India to corraborates his findings, and supplement it with hard hitting facts.

Every year hundreds of billions rupees, goes out of Bihar to the Children who have to study outside Bihar, because of lack of proper education facilities, most disturbing fact is along with money goes the Brilliance, the fertile minds. And the government does nothing about it! Properly supplemented with figures, it leaves u awe struck.

BBBihar, ellucidiates how Thackerey has caused misdemeanour to the India, by promoting regionalism. Nitin goes out of his way, to go to a rural hamlet, where one of the inhabitatns on having visited Mumbai, lost his hands, his livelihood for ever! Lest Raj forgets, Mumbai was not a part of Maharashtra, even after independence. But a part of Gujarat. And then Bihari labours or minds are warranted for, because they are hardworking. And they have had a large contribution to the Great Indian Dreams.

Even technically, movie is very sound. It provides u with visuals and interviews, where and when necessary. It will be worth around 90 minutes of romance with truth and realities. 

Watch it as an Indian, it will increase your gray cells, by few microns....go ahead, buy the movie. The proceedings of it goes to the flood affected people. More info about how u can buy it will be updated soon.

Documentary Rating: 4.5/5

For my patchouli loving friends

Please read Bittergrace Note's latest post.

New blog

Please check out Jaime's new blog: Smells like Boi . Jaime's a wonderful writer and has her own special perspective. I'm excited about reading "Adventures in Olfaction with a Genderqueer Fragrance Newb."

Socks, Part 2

I'm not thrilled with my telling of the socks-with-consequences stories yesterday. I could have been more engaging, but I'm writing in spite of my feeling uninspired. Maybe I'll tell those stories again in a year or two. Then, I can contrast and compare.

I promised another installment of writing about socks. Tonight will not be the one about knitting, and I'm not quite up to "my life in socks", though yesterday was a start.

I don't remember anything about the socks of my childhood (except for the gym class incidents). When I was very young, girls had to wear dresses to school, and I presume I wore tights.

I don't remember anything about socks in high school. I wasn't a creative socks wearer. I would venture to guess that I wore black socks, since I tended to wear black.

On the other hand, it's possible that I wore other colors of socks, for I do remember that I've always had a rule that my socks should match my shirt. This rule is the reason an old friend of mine once told me that I looked well dressed, even when I was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. How strange that this little detail was not only noticed, but added a bit of formality to my most casual way of dressing.

I also remember that on days when I wore boots, I would intentionally wear mismatched socks, because noone could see them and I would get a kick out of it. I have always liked patterned socks, but my taste in clothing is generally quite plain and argyle and striped socks don't quite match what I usually wear. Though, I must admit that there are times that I wear all the mismatched stripes in one outfit (see the post about hats).

This "kooky" way of dressing, which manifests itself mostly in my choice of socks, is a fairly recent development. My taste is not only plain, it runs towards the somber. I have given up my all-black wardrobe for one that is heavy on gray. When I go shopping, I have to remind myself that I have more than enough gray sweaters. Unfortunately, my favorite gray sweater is covered in holes. It's time to throw it out, for it's not salvageable. I suppose I am branching out, for I now wear quite a bit of red, brown and, on occasion, purple. I would love a pair of red jeans, but now that I'm not thin, I can't imagine that would be a good idea. I went to the Goodwill a few years back with a friend and she snagged a pair of railroad stripe red jeans. Oh, how I wish I saw them first!

Wait a minute. This post is supposed to be about socks! So, I've developed a penchant for bright colored and striped socks. I am reminded that I once adored argyle socks and haven't had a pair in many years. And this reminds me that the last time I wore a pair of argyle socks, I was punished for it. Well, another "socks with consequences" story:

Sometime in the late 80's, I worked at Macy's during the holiday season. I worked in two departments. One was the Macy's brand "Charter Club" department and the other was the women's suit department. Both of these departments were the only clothes departments where one could earn comissions. The incentive was great for me, for I didn't care about the job much. I didn't want to work full time, nor did I want to become a department manager. But, I was a good salesperson, and the manager of the suit department seemed to have an attitude towards me. I suspected it was because she couldn't imagine that I wasn't competing with her. I had owned my own clothing store, so I could understand that she might have found it odd that I didn't want to be a manager. At first I thought I was being paranoid, but every week there was a little competition with a financial bonus, for "salesman of the week." I never won the contest, even though I generally sold more suits than anyone else. It was up to the manager to decide who won, so the fact that I never did made me feel both ticked off and a bit better, because it proved to me that my feeling she didn't like me or saw me as a threat was probably true.

Macy's had many rules for how employees were supposed to dress. We were not allowed to wear jeans and we had to wear pantyhose with our dresses. Now, from my experience working in retail, I had learned that wearing the clothes that were being sold was a good way to sell them. I happened to like the Charter Club clothing and had bought a long jeans skirt and a couple pairs of their argyle socks, which I noticed were not selling much. So, one day I wore the skirt with the socks to work. I totally forgot aobut the Macy's rule against wearing socks with skirts or dresses. I seem to recall that the rule flitted through my mind, but I blew it off, thinking it was far better to wear this combination of skirt and socks, for it might inspire a few buyers to buy those argyle socks. It was not outrageous looking in the least.

I'm not making it up when I tell you that the manager pulled me aside when I was in the middle of selling someone the same outfit I was wearing. That strategy does work well! Forgetting she had an issue with me, I though she might say "Well done!" But no, she was angry and asked me if I had ever read the employee dress code. She wanted to yell at me, but she didn't get very far, for I immediately admitted that I knew I had broken the rule. What was my punishment? I had to work behind a counter where noone could see my offending socks. I spent the rest of the day selling leather gloves, for which there were no commissions.

The next day I was back to my regular job, but it was not to last. I forget what petty offenses I had perpetrated, but that nasty women wanted me out of there. And so I was, and wound up working in the Christmas ornaments department, where I made whatever the lowest amount one can make at Macy's was, and of course, no commission. I wonder if the pairs of argyle socks I owned and wore until they were beat up and useless were the ones from Macy's. I suspect they were, and I never bought argyle socks again. Oh my, maybe I was traumatized!

Nah. Just a coincidence. And the other reason I stopped wearing argyle is that when one doesn't have a slim calf, they stretch the design out of whack way too much.

These days crazy socks are a dime a dozen. They've become so common that they don't have much of an impact. One can buy intentionally mismatched socks. Dick gave me some for Christmas a few years ago. I love them. They're a great deal of fun. But, even though I like my clothing fairly plain (and I have a penchant for the truly elegant, but no place to wear it), the major reason for wearing outrageous socks is to be a bit shocking. If everyone is being a bit shocking, it doesn't work.

Right now I'm wearing matching striped socks in various shades of blue with a touch of purple and pale green. Sounds awful in print, but they are not, nor are they outrageous looking. One can find striped socks that are elegant. I've found that TJ Maxx is an excellent source for elegant and unusual socks.

I can't think how to end this post. Here's the end: To be continued.

Image note: Found this old pic on a site that sells traditional argyle socks.

Socks, Part 1

Laugh if you will, but it occurred to me that the topic of socks was too big a subject to tackle in one blog entry. First there's the fact that I have two distinct points of view about socks. One is from the perspective of a consumer, and the other is from the perspective of a knitter. You'd think they would not be all that different, but they are. But more importantly, those two points of view are much different for the reader. I suspect that the knitting perspective would have a rather narrow appeal, as it has much to do with technique and the evolution of sock yarn during my knitting life. So, I'll save that for another day.

Tonight, I'll focus on my personal life with socks. We should all laugh right about now, for the above introduction and the last line are so overly serious. C'mon - I'm writing about socks! Just socks.

Actually, socks have gotten me into trouble twice in my life. And the interesting part is, I had forgotten about this until just now. When I write "trouble", I mean real trouble. So, here are two stories for you:

When I was in Junior High School, we wore gym uniforms. They were ugly polyester button down shirts with attached shorts (which seemed inpossible to keep from riding up, at least for us girls without skinny legs). I believe they were navy blue, but I'm not sure. We were supposed to wear white socks and white sneakers with our uniforms. I was the kind of kid who bristled at anything that smacked of conformity. These days I suppose I'd be diagnosed with "oppositional defiant" disorder or something. Back then, I was just considered a pain in the butt. Oddly, I was very quiet and seemed to be compliant, but that was a total ruse. If there was any opportunity to mess with teachers or other authority figures, I'd do it. But I didn't do this at home. My parents were both emotional wrecks when I was in Junior High School and I wanted them to continue seeing me as a shy and "good girl."

So, back to socks and gym class. I had already gotten myself into some trouble by embroidering a name other than mine on my uniform. I re-named myself Gertrude Singer. It wasn't well thought out, but it was some sort of nod to Gertrude Stein, whom I knew little about (and still know little about). Of course, I was forced to put my real name on my uniform and this irked me. I really wanted to re-name myself, though I don't remember why.

I hated gym class, so having my first attempt at stirring up the works having been a failure forced me to come up with something else. I took all my white socks and tie-dyed them. I wasn't a hippie chick, but I wanted to mess with those plain white socks. I loved the tie dyed ones. One thing about tie-dying, batik and other forms of creative dyeing, which I loved then, and still love today, is the one-of-a-kind nature of each dyed piece of clothing or fabric. It's pretty much impossible to reproduce the same exact results every time.

So, knowing full well that I was supposed to wear plain white socks, I went to gym class with a pair of purple tie-dyed ones. I was told that the next time I showed up for gym, I better not being wearing them. The teacher didn't say "You better not be wearing tie-dyed socks." She just said I shouldn't be wearing the ones I had on. I remember this clearly. Of course, I showed up to the next class wearing a different pair of tie-dyed socks. I continued to wear a different pair of socks until I achieved the result that I wanted: I was suspended from gym class. I was "punished" by having to sit in study hall for one period. This was fine with me, for I'd sit there and read a book, which was infinitely more pleasureable to me than having to swim in an overchlorinated pool while exposing the body I wasn't happy with or being the kid who was always picked last for any team sport ("Do we have to take her?"). I don't remember how this particular gym class episode ended. I did fail gym one year, but my sketchy memory tells me that was another year (and another story).

Now, the other time I got into trouble over socks was much more serious. I may have blogged about it before, and if you've read it, well, here it is again. It'd be interesting to see if both my stories are the same or if I am repeating myself. Memory is an elusive thing.

When I was 16, I worked at McDonalds. We wore (again) navy blue McDonald's uniforms and with matching caps. These too were polyester and seemed to trap the smell of stale oil better than any fabric on earth. And if you were guessing what on earth this has to do with socks, the answer is that the regulations called for white ones, of course. This time, I had no desire to flaunt the rules. I was living on my own and I needed that paycheck.

The trouble was, I didn't own any white socks. So, on my first day of work, I went to a big store to buy some. Unfortunately, I didn't have enough money. So, I shoplifted them. I was in a big hurry and was sloppy. I got caught. I had shoplifted before, and most of the time it was for things that were worth far more than pair of white socks. I'd never gotten caught. It seemed just that I was finally caught for such a petty thing.

The security guard took me into a small office and made me produce what he knew I had. Those socks probably cost two dollars at the most, but it was two bucks I didn't have. I didn't shoplift for the thrill of it. I did it out of neccessity.

The guard pummelled me with questions. The room was small and poorly lit. It was pretty darned close to the horrible interrogation rooms I'd seen in movies, and so, I was more afraid than I needed to be. I imagined that I was going to wind up in a juvenile facility. But no, the security guard was more concerned about the fact that I refused to give him my parents' names or addresses. He became convinced I was a runaway, and the only way around that was to give him my landlord's pone number. I thought that knowing I rented my own apartment would put this guy's mind to rest about my status as a somewhat self-supporting adult. I wasn't an emancipated minor, so the truth was that it didn't matter what my living situation was. But I didn't know that. He hammered away at me with questions upon questions, and my fear level became so great that I broke down in sobs. I harldy ever cried back then, and my terrified sobs were not only scary to me, but to him. He did call my landlord, who I had lied to. I told him I was 18 and he believed me (which is hard to believe, considering I looked all of 12 years old).

The security guard did call my landlord. He was very angry. When I got home, he informed me that he was kicking me out. I was too young to be renting my own apartment and he figured that in some way he was legally responsible for me. It turned out that that was indeed true.

My shoplifting those white socks had no serious consequences. I didn't go to juvenile hall. I didn't lose my horrible job. I did have to tell the manager that I couldn't afford new white socks.

Beyond that, the end of the story of my short career at McDonalds is on this blog somewhere. If you're interseted, do a search. I'm too lazy to bother. Right now I'm typing with one eye open. I am very tired, to say the least.

Really, I have three more socks topics. 1. Sock knitting. 2. My taste in socks. 3. My life history, as told through socks.

I can think of even more, if I give it a moment's thought. My grandfather's socks, with garters, are a memory that interests me.

But for tonight, that's it. The two times that white socks (or lack thereof) got me into trouble.

Stay tuned for more sock adventures.

For a great entry about shoplifting socks, go to "Burnt Toast Dinner's Confessions of a Shameless Shoplifter." She accidentally spelled shameless wrong - "shamless."

Photo note: The Eichold-Mertz Elementary School in Mobile, Alabama's school uniform page says "Plain white socks. NO footies or" What? Or else? The school's slogan is:

"Good, Better, Best

Never let it rest.

Until the Good is Better

And the Better is Best!"

When I was a kid, my father's biggest clients as an art dealer was a man who said this was his slogan. He was obscenely wealthy and had quite a bit of disdain for those who weren't. I suppose he thought they hadn't lived up to this slogan. The combination of seeing a pair of boring white socks and that slogan gives me the willies.

Neha Dhupia Wet Bikini pics from MAN Mag. Neha Dhupia has done so much hot and $exy roles in Bollywood Movies. But she is not haapier with her sexy image so she is doing some serious cinema movies like Mithiya, Ek Chalis Ki Local etc. And we didn,t see her in $exy avtaar from Long time. But recently she poses in Bikini for MAN Magazine. In these Pics she is Looking do Hot. Enjoy these latest Eye Candy Pics of Neha Dhupia

Are my babbling days over?

I doubt it. However, I haven't felt the desire to blog as often as I used to.

As a reader of blogs, I know it's nice to see a new entry (or more) each day. And judging from my blog stats, I can see my readership is down. So, have you all caught up? There's a large amount of entries here, and the majority of them are not topical.

Jaime suggested I write about shoes, socks and mittens. I've written about shoes and mittens before, and there are even drawings of shoes (see the tag "EIIIProduct" in the sidebar). I started writing about socks last night and wound up deleting the entry. I guess I've got some sort of writer's block. Normally, I could write about socks for hours if I didn't stop myself. Last night, writing about anything was about as difficult and not worth the effort as trying to squeeze the last little bit of toothpaste out of its tube.

And normally, I'd now be writing about toothpaste. But that stream of consciousness has dried up, for now. I have no doubt that I'll be back to my normal babbly self at some point. When? I make no promises!

And now, a little story:

Last week, I was wearing Annick Goutal's Encens Flamboyant. Dick and I were standing in front of an open cupboard. I guess we were looking for food. Of course, that has nothing to do with anything, except to explain that we were in close proximity to each other.

He asked me, "Do you smell something burning?" I answered, "No." He then said, "Well, it's not really a burning smell. It's more like the smell of a dryer sheet." I told him I had just put on some perfume. I offered my wrist for him to smell. He wasn't sure if that was the smell he was smelling. And that was the end of that, for him.

It wasn't the end of it for me, however. I kept sniffing my wrist and asking myself, "Does this smell like Bounce or Snuggle or whatever the name of our dryer sheets are?" And the answer was a resounding "Yes."

Because I'm terribly lazy, I just googled "Snuggle" to see if the box looked familiar. Dick and I raced each other to see who'd find it first. He won. And Snuggle is the brand we use. I don't know why. I do like the way it makes the clothing smell.

And though I would assume that Annick Goutal would be nearly horrified to discover that Encens Flamboyant smells like a dryer sheet, it does. It's not a duplicate, but there's a definate similiarity. I think that only a nose who can differentiate between manufactured scent molecules would be able to explain this similarity.

Today, after I put my clothes in the dryer, along with a sheet of Snuggle, I had a strong urge to wear the fragrance that will now be forever linked to the mundane task of clothes washing. Do you think that Snuggle could be described as having "a mystical, arousing and intense scent?" That's the opening sentence of the Encens Flamboyant description. As for Snuggle, the original fragrance is only described as "fresh" and "clean". But, wait (and wow!) the Snuggle website says "Snuggle - on a mission for upliftment."

I didn't think that "upliftment" was a real word, but I found it in Merriam Webster's Dictionary. Is there something wrong with sentence? I was going to say that I didn't care for the sentiment, but that's not true. I'd be a hypocrite and a snob if I thought that only top of the line perfume had the power to lift one's spirits. After all, I'm the one who bought the Snuggle dryer sheets.

Photo note: I find the official Snuggle bear a bit creepy. Maybe it's because he (she?) has an open mouth. I can't think of another reason. The Snuggle bear is pretty classic in every other way. Since I like stuffed bears, here's a photograph of one I do like. I found it here.

Bird of the day

During this time of year, I keep an eye out for flocks of snow buntings as I drive along the country roads. I have seen flocks of 50 to over 100 birds in past years. It's a glorious site, seeing these stark black and white birds, and the way they swirl over the snow covered pastures.

Today I saw only a half dozen or so birds. Their behavior outside of a large flock seemed different. The way they flapped their wings was butterfly-like, and it took some time for my brain to accept that they were indeed birds. But there's no black and white butterfly of that size which lives here in the winter.

This year there's quite a few sitings of unusual birds, though I haven't seen any. Honestly, I enjoy whatever birds I see, rare or not. This winter we've got an infrequent but regular visitor to our feeders, a red breasted nuthatch . The photograph at the Cornell Lab link doesn't do the bird justice. They are sleek and elegant, to my eyes.

Pooja Chitgopikar, Femina Miss India Earth 2007 Photoshoot -
Folio by : Rahul Dutta

Pooja Chitgopikar, 21 is Miss Earth Air 2007 and represented India in the international Miss Earth 2007 beauty pageant on November 11. Miss Earth Air is Miss Earth's equivalent for first runner up.

She won Miss India Earth, one of the three titles annually given by Femina India in Mumbai; the other two titles went to Puja Gupta Miss India Universe and Sarah Jane Dias Miss India World. She was crowned by Amruta Patki who was the first runner up at Miss Earth 2006. Like Amruta, she also ended as first runner up in the Miss Earth contest.

Pooja is currently pursing her Bachelor of Medicine and Surgery from University of Auckland, this New Zealand-based beauty has won the Miss India New Zealand (2002) contest, Miss India Worldwide (2003) (1st runner up) and Miss Auckland (2002) (1st runner up). She has walked the ramp for the New Zealand Fashion Week as well as anchored a show on television.

---Anita----

Maybe it wasn't quite -35

The weather, again

Last night, it was -50 degrees in Big Black River, Maine. It was not only a record for the date, but of all time here in the state.

And I thought it was cold where I live.

Dick just said, "This is good for the trees, though. It kills the pine beetles." I just googled pine beetles and they don't appear to be a problem in Maine.

I told him this and he said something about some bug that is killing the spruce trees. Its the Eastern Spruce Gall Adelgid, to be precise. Some say that the warmer winters are not killing these bugs, which are a type of aphid.

So, did you need this information?

Photo note: Snow on spruce, found at this site, where you can read about the ecology of snow and global warming.

Material lust

A few years back, I started using Publishers Clearinghouse Search & Win as my home page. It uses Google and a bunch of other search engines and if I'm not searching for anything obscure, it does a fairly good job. But I figured it was a scam, for I'd used it for almost a year, and every day I'd see the names of those who'd won prize after prize, and it seemed, with all the searches I'd done, at least I'd have won something, a 5 dollar Amazon gift certificate at least, within a full year. In my memory, it was the exact day I was going to quit using it, for the search engine isn't all that hot, when I won two hundred dollars.

I still thought it was a scam when the screen came up that announced I was a winner. I filled out a form and figured I'd never see my prize money. The next morning, I told Dick I'd won two hundred dollars and he said, "I'll believe it when I see the check." Well, I got the check. Within the next few weeks, I won fifty dollars in Amazon gift certificates.

Google opted out and the search engine became fairly useless. So, that was the end of that and the small daily rush I'd get thinking I might win another prize. So, I started spending ten minutes a day entering the Better Homes and Garden instant win game. I've never won a thing playing this game, and I'd say it hasn't made much of a dent on my consciousness, because I can't even think of the name of it.

A couple of weeks ago, I did a search for sweepstakes on Google. I had no idea how huge a "hobby" entering sweepstakes are. There are hundreds of sweepstakes websites, with pages and pages of lists. There are special sweepstakes toolbars you can download so one can enter sweepstakes faster. I've installed one.

My favorites button has become heavy with links. I've bookmarked "pay down your mortgage" sweepstakes, beauty product giveaways, product essay contests. . .

I've entered to win five foot wide plasma television sets and a thin gold bangle bracelet worth five thousand dollars. In the real world, I have no need or desire for either of these things. But if I won either of them, I'd take them, thank you very much.

I feel as if I'm admitting to a deep dark secret. It is neither deep or dark, but there's something nefarious about it, for it has opened up a yearning in me for material goods. The $250,000 shopping spree sweepstakes on Cosmopolitan magazine's website was looking better and better to me each day.

This afternoon I wrote an essay about why I'd like to win a trip to Paris. Of course, I mentioned that I'd like to visit perfume shops. But no, I wouldn't just like to visit. I'd like to buy, buy and buy some more. I want every Serge Lutens non-export scent I can get my greedy little hands on, and I want them in bell jars, not the ordinary rectangular spray bottles.

I find it interesting that in the midst of the worst economic crisis in my lifetime, both for the entire country and in my personal life, I'm thinking about winning overpriced luxury goods that I've never wanted before. I surely don't want or need a silk pillow with a baroque design on the front. It's baby blue and doesn't match anything in my home. But, I filled in the form to win that pillow, not once, but twice.

There are things I need, practical things, that are expensive. I need a new pair of glasses, for instance. I've looked at hundreds of contests in the last few days and not one of them offers a chance to win a pair of prescription glasses. One can win a consultation with a psychic or plastic surgeon, but nowhere did I see an offer to see a good primary care doctor.

Of course, contests are fantasies. Winning the things of ordinary life would take some of the fun out it, but the truth is, for me, and I suspect for a good many people who enter contests, that I could use many everyday things.

So far, this week, I've won one music download and fifteen dollars worth of Kraft products (which I suspect are all going to be junk food).

I did enter one contest today that had a fairly practical prize: glue. I'm not kidding. It was on a scrapbooking site. The winner of this contest wins $265 in various types of glue products for scrapbooking. I didn't look at the details of this contest, but just how much glue is that? It must be enough for life, unless some of it is made of gold. For all I know, some of it might be.

I wonder how long this weird little obsession of mine is going to last. I don't know what to make of it. And I suspect I'm going to win that glue. It'll serve me right.

Painting note: Elizabeth-Louise Vigee-Le Brun "Queen Marie Antoinette of France" 1778
I'm imagining myself in that outfit,saying, "Let them eat Kraft macaroni and cheese."

Off with my head!

Sonam Kapoor never fails to surprise us.

Sonam Kapoor never fails to surprise us. The girl looks phenomenally different in every photo shoot she does! And we're left yearning for more. Wonder what next she is going to experiment?