May 01, 2008
Why can't we just take a red-eye, like normal people?
I'll probably be talking to the husband's former boss during the event, since his wife is running a marathon in a different city at the same time. I hear T-Mobile is setting up a special "Embittered Athletic Spouses" rate.
I've had a lot of trouble focusing on the race, for obvious reasons. When I look at the map of the race course, my mind goes kerflooey. And yet I've really enjoyed the two marathons I went to in support of the husband. I think this one will be especially nice: for one thing, the weather will be cooler up there than it is here. For another, I suspect that A the H will set what they call a "PR" this weekend (stands for Personal Record, of course).
It'll also get me away from the real estate front for a while. But I am getting good at this: I keep thinking that if I can sell a couple of books this year, I might be able to pick up another condo before the market recovers completely, and rent it—or flip it, maybe. Though flipping really depends on market timing, which is why I prefer the idea of renting places out—it's more of a "buy and hold" strategy. (A the H reminds me that commercial real estate has the advantage of not leading to phone calls in the middle of the night because people's pipes burst. True enough; but people always need to live somewhere, no matter how tough times are. When there is a recession, though, they just conduct business out of their guesthouses, garages, extra bedrooms, walk-in closets, and the like. It's especially easy to work from home these days, and the whole thing has gained a respectability—even a cachet. So I'm more nervous about commercial R.E.)
On the home front, we're figuring out where we want to cut costs right now, so we can get the most important tasks accomplished before we move into the condo. I should be getting a more exact cost breakdown on flooring this coming Saturday. We might end up carpeting the entire condo, but we may be able to scrape up the dough for some premium fake wood (industrial-grade—not the cheap, icky shit). The contenders: quasi-bamboo; quasi-teak; quasi-cherry (with a super-light "stain"). Possibly some rustic greenish discolored pine. Elm, maybe. Or Alder.
We'll see how our finances look, and we'll see whether the HOA at the new place will give us the go-ahead, if we can get the noise-muffling level right.
The "window" I want to drill between the dining area and the kitchen can wait. Furniture can wait. Even decent window treatments can wait, at least for a few weeks; I'll put rice paper up if I have to.
Floors and walls have to be done now, even if it means we have to compromise on the exact materials we use, and re-do it a few years down the line.
I'm off to work on my May budget; it was due today. I'm starting to get looks from the person whom I was going to go over it with. Those sorts of looks.
Posted by: Attila Girl at
09:54 PM
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Ed seems to get it right, here: the enemy is not science, and when we begin to imply that it is, we become what we've set out to conquer: opponents of free inquiry. The enemy is the perversion of science; this is the critical distinction to keep in mind.
That's why I felt that Expelled dwelt just a bit too long on "Darwinism," a word that has many different meanings to many different people. If we acknowledge that Darwin's writings were "necessary, though not sufficient" for the development of Naziism, we have not really said too much about evolution itself, except to note that it can be abused, like all good ideas.
That said, I'm still looking for the whole transcript, since I suspect Stein's quote was taken a bit out of context.
Not that I want to interfere with The Derb's righteous indignation.
Posted by: Attila Girl at
03:24 PM
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Are you getting the same colors I am off of the Safari browser window? 'Cause they've brightened it up a bit. I especially like the lime green mixed with cranberry, interspersed with streaks of hot pink.
Look at the coffee beans there in the canister. Do they usually breathe that fast? I think they're hyper-ventilating, myself. Hey, little dudes; relax. Time to meditate a bit.
Whose turn is it to call for Thai delivery this time? And where are the crayons? I might just lie on my back for a while: acoustical spray rawks.
Posted by: Attila Girl at
01:08 AM
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