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13 things that begin with N
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Author Archives
Cool, Crunchy, Crumple
Cool:
Various weather folk were warning of temps around 103 today, but the weather.com indicator in my system tray never made it beyond 101, and when I stepped outside just a bit ago, to supervise the dogs’ post-dinner elimination excursion, the wind had picked up and the sky was veiled in mackerel scales. Weather.com warns of thundershowers tomorrow and a very rainy Friday (My birthday! Yeah!) and it’s as if even Nature is gifting me this year.
Crunchy:
Today on our morning walk, Miss Cleo the Ever Talented managed to ensnare a small dead tree-branch with her tail. It made a satisfying crunching sound when we finally untangled it from fur and leash, and I stepped on it to prove to her that it was really and truly dead.
Crumple:
There’s something really satisfying about crumpling used aluminum foil and pitching toward the recycling bin. It’s not quite as amazing as crumpling an aluminum can, mind you, but in terms of cheap pleasures, it’s at least on the list.
Cool:
Fudgcicles are small plastic-wrapped frozen miracles on sticks. 40 calories, less than a whole gram of fat, and they satisfy the need for ice cream AND the craving for chocolate.
Crunchy:
I’ve never been a fan of lettuce on sandwiches. Lettuce is great for wrapping tuna salad, or making a salad, but on sandwiches I prefer a bit more crunch. Proof it’s really my birthday this week? For the first time since we’ve been here, the neighborhood grocery store actually had alfalfa sprouts when I had Fuzzy stop for groceries on the way home last night. My turkey and muenster on multi-grain bread was so much better with the addition of sprouts and tomato slices. Yes, that was lunch.
Crumple
If you have not visited Crumpler‘s website to look at their groovous array of funky laptop messenger bags, you should. I don’t actually own one (I want the The Dreadful Embarrassment in red or olive very badly), but my good friend Rana turned me onto them. Aside from the actual product though, there’s this option for PLAY CATALOGUE, and what ensues is the Crumpler ABC’s, and it’s hilarious. Go. Look.
Wordless Wednesday: I’m Cute, Too
Pink Music
I blame Jeremy for the fact that I’ve been hooked on the soundtrack to Legally Blonde: the Musical for a couple of weeks now. He described it as being pink music, and he was completely correct – even the poignant songs are pink, just a more muted shade of it.
Looking around my house, my personal space, I find pink encroaching more and more. I’ve gone from being the girl who detested pink to the woman who has embraced it enough to own a pink laptop and a pink iPod shuffle, as well as a pink tote bag and a pink wristwatch.
More recently, there are the sneakers I “designed” at the converse website – you can see them here – that are not only pink, but also sport fingerprints. I need to go to a store and actually try some on before I order these because I’m not certain of how their shoes will fit my foot, but I do plan to actually get them at some point.
I guess I can blame Jeremy for the music, but the rest of the pink-ocity, is all me.
Thought for the Day
There are always reasons not to write. They appear as wantonly as toadstools after the rain. Entertaining those reasons even for a split second is the path to uncreativity. Write, even if you have a twinge, a doubt, a fear, a block, a noisy neighbor, a sick cat, thirteen unpublished stories, and a painful boil. Write, even if you aren’t sure. Come to Paris, even if you don’t speak French.
— Eric Maisel, A Writer’s Paris: a guided journey for the creative soul
E-sell with Ashop
If you’re going to market goods or services on the web, especially as an individual, you either have to join an existing webmall or marketplace, use an auction site, or install shopping cart software. The last option isn’t always the easiest, but it definitely gives you the most control.
I was looking for ecommerce software recently, when my mother asked me to help her market an ebook. She ultimately never finished the book, but in my search for a solution, I came across Ashop Commerce, an Australian company that does business in the US and UK as well. Even better, their software is completely integrated with PayPal and WorldPay, so if you want your buyers to be able to use plastic, you don’t need to get a merchant account with Visa or Mastercard.
What I like about Ashop is that the shopping cart supports digital products (like my mother’s unfinished ebook) as well as physical goods, but other great features are that it’s pretty simple to install, and there are no contracts to sign, just a setup fee and a monthly user fee. The template is customizable, so it can meld with your existing website, and while Ashop does offer hosting, no shopping carts are on their domain – you have to have your own.
Ashop’s pricing varies from region to region, and depends upon how many products you plan to sell, but the base price for folks in the USA is $39.95/month, which is pretty reasonable, when you look at what they offer – they even have special B2B and SEO packages.
My recommendation? If you’re planning to become an etailer, consider Ashop.
Monday Music Mambo
I saw this meme, and thought it looked like fun:
Name your favorite song by . . .
Jimi Hendrix
Tony Iommi (Black Sabbath)
Paul McCartney (non-Beatles, just to make it harder)
Billy Corgan (solo, Smashing Pumpkins or Zwan)
Phil Collins
- Jimi Hendrix: “Voodoo Child” – I liked the name before I ever liked the song.
- Tony Iommi: “Turn Up the Night” – I was never really a Black Sabbath fan, but I remember kind of liking this song when the guys in school were into this band.
- Paul McCartney: “Band on the Run” – This got a lot of radio play when I was nine and ten years old (1979 / 1980). I remember hearing it just after PM Magazine did their story on the “Paul McCartney is Dead” hoax.
- Billy Corgan: “The CameraEye” – No reason, I just like it.
- Phil Collins: “Separate Lives” – It’s all tied up in high school and college and teenaged angst and melodrama, for me. In a good way.
Cassoulet
Oil lamps left an eerie yellowish glow on the false fronts of each building, a glow that was at once comforting and strangely foreign, as we dashed from doorway to doorway, arc of light to arc of light, along the uneven cobblestone street in the old part of town. We knew, of course, that they were there just for show, that each of the buildings we passed had all the modern conveniences hidden away beyond the parts the public could see, but somehow in the sudden storm, they made the shadows appear to live, giving chase to us as we searched for the cafe that had been so highly recommended.
“What’s the address, again?” my husband asked, impatient with me for not being able to keep up, though he tried to hide it, as he always did.
“Four-twelve,” I said. We looked up at the doorway where we’d paused. The numbers were blurry, but we could tell we were in the three hundred block. “Almost there,” I added, although it was obvious.
Another few buildings, a dash across a rain-slick brick street, and we were opening the door into warmth and light, wood smoke, and the scent of something amazing.
The chimes on the door brought an old woman bustling from the back. She was wearing one of those skirts that could have just as easily been from last year or a hundred years ago, and a crisp white blouse, with a red shawl tied around her waist. Her hair was glossy black; her eyes a rich brown – she looked, in fact, very like my great-aunt, except that Aunt Maria would never have been caught dead in lipstick that shade of orange.
“You are Mireille’s friends?” It was technically a question, but there was no doubt in her tone. We nodded, as she continued, “Welcome, welcome, the cassoulet is ready, and the wine just needs to breathe.”
We joined her other patrons around a single, round, butcher-block table, and ate while we watched the rain continue to fall beyond the plate-glass window, and the green-painted door.
Sock It To Me
While I wear flip-flops much of the time, when it’s cold or rainy, or the setting is inappropriate for sandals, I have a rule that my socks have to match what I’m wearing. Because of this I have an entire drawer of socks, tights, knee-high stockings – pretty much anything you can put on your foot that isn’t a shoe.
I really like trouser socks, because they’re thin enough for dressy shoes but still come in pretty colors and interesting patterns. Quite a lot of my socks are striped, in various colors. I’ll spare you the entire catalogue of them.
Just as I tend to go online to buy shoes, I also like to go online to buy socks. Hue socks are among the brands I know and like because their stuff is pretty, and their prices are great – 3 pairs for $15 for the cute striped socks in the picture.
Hue‘s offerings aren’t limited to socks, of course. They also sell cute pajamas and lounge wear, and tights. (May I just say, I love tights?)
Even cooler, they’re not limited to online shoppers. You can order them online (shipping is $5 per order) or you can find Hue socks in stores like Macy’s, Dillards, and Nordstrom.
Either way, your toes will be happy you tried Hue.
9:17 AM
… and it’s already nearly 90 degrees. Wake me up when summer ends, please?
In truth, this summer’s been pretty mild, and it isn’t even all that humid, really. But I wish it would rain again. Soon. I like rain. I especially like the way it rains every day for about 20 minutes in places like Colorado, almost as if someone’s scheduled a daily downpour.
This Friday is my birthday.
I’ll be 37.
I don’t feel that old.
But I also don’t see the point in lying about my age.
The dogs and I just got back from morning walkies. Cleo has very thick soft fur and does not do well in the heat. This means that she stops pulling after half a block. Zorro, despite his medical issues, is speedy and spirited, bounding over tiny rocks as if they were huge boulders, jumping onto curbs, and landing weightlessly in the grass, and walking with his tail curled happily over his back and his ears alert for anything and everything we might encounter.
As for me, I’m hot, and sticky, and so I shall end this.
Shower. Coffee. Work.