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I bought this just to show you the amazing power of soy. It’s soy-deliciousl

I had a whole bunch of stuff to update you on but I don’t know where it all went.

I thought about doing a long update on my shows and how they are all connected somehow to Buffy & Angel, but I don’t think you care that much. I will give you a partial report and say: Invasion is excellent. Bones is also excellent but after a couple of episodes they’re on a temporary hiatus while this baseball thing is finishing up. It’s October. It’s cold and windy. Shouldn’t baseball be finished by now? I watched one Desperate Housewives and proclaimed myself finished. There is a fine line between stupid and guilty pleasure and that show has been reclassified as stupid.

Last weekend I watched a movie called Osama which I had heard was very good. I want you to understand that I do not have a problem with “hard” movies and I like movies that make me look at things in a different way or open my eyes to things I don’t know about. I didn’t completely remember what Osama was about, and if it had been a segment on an evening newsshow, yes it was excellent. But in terms of kicking back on a Sunday afternoon to watch a movie that you vaguely remember has something to do about a little girl in Afghanistan, this was an awful movie. I won’t give it all away but it’s about this little girl and her dad and uncle are dead and there is no way for the family to get food or money so they dress her up as a boy so she can get a job. Her situation goes from bad to worse to completely and utterly tragic and then the movie is over. There is not even a droplet of hope when the credits roll. That was probably the filmmakers intention and it worked. It invoked incredible outrage for the situation for women over there. It also bummed out my entire day.

I think I mentioned before that my computer display has pooped out. I finally called a Mac service place yesterday and talked to a very nice Mac-Tech-Service-Geek and he knew what I was talking about before I had the words out of my mouth. The problem is the screen doesn’t display red. I can get by when I’m going email or this, but I’m taking a Photoshop class and practicing color correction is quite interesting under these circumstances. The repair is around $350-400. My digital video board is failing. Or something like that. The computer is barely 2 years old, but for a little more than double that I can get a whole new computer so we’re looking into that at the moment. The Apple G5 is looking pretty good.

Yesterday I did a bit of yardwork. I totally wasn’t in the mood, but the sun was out and it was nice and it seemed foolish to waste the day sitting in the house practicing Photoshop when I could be cleaning up the yard and enjoying the sun in my shirtsleeves. I managed to harvest another basket of tomatoes. I left the plants in but figured they’d be wrecked b/c of the rain, but no. They look good. I don’t know what kind of tomato plant this is but it’s been a champ — produced zillions of pretty, yummy tomatoes, and keeps on going. I also dug around in the front a little bit and pulled out and cut back dead stuff. It didn’t take long for me to grow bored of it.

In the afternoon I made a Buttermilk Pie using a recipe from the NY Times. I’ve never had it before, although I’ve seen the recipe and was always curious to try it. It’s yummy — a light, cheesecake flavored pie. Bob love it.

Today we plan to see Elizabethtown, new Cameron Crowe movie and then this afternoon is my first try at making tamales. Full report tomorrow.

Is it my imagination or is FM radio sucking less lately?

For awhile it seemed like you’d go for days without hearing anything unexpected. It was the same old teeny-bopper hits or smarmy ballads. And the dinosaur rock stations play the same classics AC/DC and Zepplin songs over and over. And the 80’s stations play the same Duran Duran and Thompson Twins hits.

Now there are two stations on my dial that almost always play something interesting. Like a mix of lots of good songs 70’s to present. Station #1 is more alternative — they played The Toy Dolls the other morning. Station #2 plays more of a mix but it’s songs you actually want to hear. I think that’s their motto: “Songs you actually want to hear.”

Since I quit writing there is one thing that I’ve been enjoying a lot more lately, and that is reading in bed first thing in the morning. (Not on work days. On work days I need to be on my feet, quick as I can.)

I remember this is something I always did when I was a kid. Read before bed. Read late into the night. First thing upon waking: sit up, turn on light and read.

I used to do this sometimes on vacation but now I’ve been doing it almost every weekend and it is truly one of the great joys of life.

We went to see Patti Smith at Powell’s this afternoon.

I have to admit I was a wee bit concerned what it was going to be like going downtown on a Saturday afternoon, especially Powell’s. We got an early start and parked in an out of the way lot arrived in the designated spot before they had even set up chairs.

We went about the business of looking at books and when the chairs were set up, snagged a couple right up front. The event wasn’t a crazy as I imagined but then, I have an over-active imagination particularly when it comes to potentially crowded events. But the room was full and Patti’s crowd is quite a range. A lot of hipsters dressed in all black with fancy eyewear and spiky hair. But lots of middle aged dorky people like us, a few brought their kids. There was a nice camaraderie while waiting.

Patti was there to read from a new book of poems that’s just out. She was wonderful as always. I’m having trouble articulating a quick summary that captures her. She’s one of those incredibly talented, sharp and arty people who manages to also come across as someone that you’d feel perfectly at ease with having coffee or hiking through the hills.

My pumpkin patch has a total of 4 pumpkins. Well, had 4, now there are 3.

One is gigantic and beautiful. Two are probably not going to have enough time to ripen properly. The fourth one was majorly damaged when it was small.

Critters made some big marks in it, but I left it alone and it continued grow and the marked up part healed over and the pumpkin became a lovely reddish-orange color. (Perhaps I should clarify that these are Cinderella pumpkins just in case you didn’t know.)

I thought I’d harvest the thing and bake a pie today. I brought it in and washed it off and used a mallet and cleaver to split and and, … ew.

There were parts of orange pumpkin-y goodness that smelled sweet and wonderful and there were parts that were brown and mushy and smelled like low tide.

Sadly, Mr. pumpkin went back into the patch where he can compost for next year.

Meanwhile, I decided to use a Grange cookbook recipe that caught my eye. Long story but I had this box of yellow cake mix that I didn’t know what to do with and this recipe uses 1 box of yellow cake mix.

For the recipe you bake the cake mix according to package instructions (9×13 pan); take the baked cake out of the oven and while still hot, poke holes in it with a fork and then dump a can of crushed pineapple, juice and all, over the cake. Let the cake cool and then make two packages of instant vanilla pudding and when it sets a bit, spread that over the cake. Then spread a tup of Cool Whip on that. I’ve never even bought Cool Whip before.

It came out fantastic.

In the lunchroom at the office I found a quiz that had been copied from Newsweek magazine: Are You A Type D? I didn’t read the article and can’t remember the last time I even touched a Newsweek magazine. The fact that the magazine now contains stupid quizzes illustrates its worthlessness better than any words I could come up with.

But that didn’t stop me from taking the quiz.

Apparently there are “social and emotional” problems associated with a Type D personality that can increase your chances of heart disease.

The first question is: I make contact easily when I meet people. You’re supposed to answer False, Less False, Neutral, Less True, True.

Do you even understand the question? What does “make contact” mean? Are they asking me do I connect easily when I meet people? And what’s the definition of “meet”? When you’re in a business or social event and you’re introduced to someone? Or when you need a place to sit on the train?

My answer was False. I’m not a social failure but it usually takes me awhile to warm up to brand new people. I got a whopping 4 points for my answer. I’d like to point out that when I was younger I did suffer considerable heartburn over my uneasiness in social situations but now I hardly think about it. Who cares?

There are 14 questions total. Another example: I often feel inhibited in social interactions. Are we talking about a family get together or a big party where you only know the host? Are there people who don’t feel inhibited at certain social interactions?

So you get my point that the questions are stupid. Half the questions focused on alleged social inadequacies while the other half on negativity. Example: I am often irritated. Well these questions are irritating the hell out of me, I guess that’s a 4. (I actually gave myself a 4+).

On my negativity I got 9 and I needed a 10 to “qualify” as a Type D. But my social inhibition I got 13: Type D, I’m in the club!

The tallest building was the one in Sherman Oaks, I think we were on the 2nd floor of a 5 story building. After an earthquake the building was deemed to be unsafe but the boss made us come to work anyway. The morning of the quake I helped my neighbor sweep glass and tried to get things put back together and the boss called me and wanted to know why I was late. (He also once called me on day #3 of a killer ass flu and complained that I needed to get back to work.)

Before that job moved to the earthquake hazard, our previous building had been severely damaged in a fire of a suspicious nature. He made us come to work then, too. We had to sign a release and then climb stairs through charred walls and breathe burned plastic smell that probably took 10 years off my life.

I was long gone by the time the Northridge quake came along but I understand the building he was in at that time was wrecked as well. You have to wonder if it was him or just an amazing coincidence.

This post wasn’t intended to be about the world’s worst boss, it’s about working in a tall building.

One new thing is elevator culture. We’re on the 18th floor which means that if I get on with a bunch of other people, it takes forever to get to my floor. I know. Nothing to whine about since at least I don’t have to use a ladder or climb a knotted rope to get to the office. But probably for “safety reasons” the stairs aren’t open. (Anyone besides me who sees a hole in this logic, raise your hand.) And sometimes you are the only one in the elevator and you still have to stop at 4, then 5, then 7, then 8, for people who need to go up one floor. WIth a plate of cookies.

But mostly people are polite and hold the elevator for you and let the ladies in and out first and say good morning, or, your lunch smells good.

The other comment was that I’d always imagined it would be quiet up there. You’d be amazed at how much street noise I can hear at my desk. Not just sirens. There’s a document shredding truck that comes once a week that announces its arrival with the hydraulic whine and then thump of the giant bin filled with secret papers that are about to be ground up with loud churning and grinding. In the summer I can hear the kids squealing at the Salmon Street fountain. And one afternoon some guy played “Somewhere over the Rainbow” on the trumpet for hours until I was ready to go find him and offer him $20 to move to the other side of town.

Now that the cool weather is coming in, we’ll see how much cold seeps through those giant windows. If so, maybe I can get a brick to heat in the microwave and then put under my desk by my feet like Laura Ingalls when Almonzo took her home from her teaching job in the sled in the middle of a blizzard.