I can't write a standard entry though because I'm pretty sure this is an alien alphabet. I certainly can't decipher what this says. Thoughts?
Friday, July 22, 2011
Today my name is...
This is actually a blast from the past. I got this name sometime last year when I was getting coffee nearly every morning (so the baristas had more opportunities to get my name wrong).
I can't write a standard entry though because I'm pretty sure this is an alien alphabet. I certainly can't decipher what this says. Thoughts?
I can't write a standard entry though because I'm pretty sure this is an alien alphabet. I certainly can't decipher what this says. Thoughts?
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Today my name is Lizzie
When the very lovely barista handed me my coffee this morning I was amused to see instead of Lacey the name Lizzie. To truly appreciate my new name I need to take you back a few minutes though.
I live four miles from downtown San Francisco and take the train to work. This ride usually takes less than 30 minutes, time I use to read. Sitting down. This morning something went seriously wrong. The ride took an hour and by the time the train got to my stop it was so full all the seats were gone. I have not yet acquired the skill to read standing on a train. Standing. Butt to butt. For an hour. Not reading. (I know. I know. Everything's amazing and nobody is happy. But remember I haven't had my coffee at this point!)
Back to Lizzie.
I was surprised when after seeing my new name my friends didn't understand my axe joke.
Today I am Lizzie Borden.
For my friends and those of my reader(s) who might not know, Lizzie Borden was accused of killing her father and step mother with an axe in 1892. She was not found guilty during the trail and since several theories naming other murders have been formed, yet there is a charming rhyme about the incident that leaves the blame with Lizzie.
Anyway, have a nice day!
I live four miles from downtown San Francisco and take the train to work. This ride usually takes less than 30 minutes, time I use to read. Sitting down. This morning something went seriously wrong. The ride took an hour and by the time the train got to my stop it was so full all the seats were gone. I have not yet acquired the skill to read standing on a train. Standing. Butt to butt. For an hour. Not reading. (I know. I know. Everything's amazing and nobody is happy. But remember I haven't had my coffee at this point!)
Back to Lizzie.
I was surprised when after seeing my new name my friends didn't understand my axe joke.
Today I am Lizzie Borden.
For my friends and those of my reader(s) who might not know, Lizzie Borden was accused of killing her father and step mother with an axe in 1892. She was not found guilty during the trail and since several theories naming other murders have been formed, yet there is a charming rhyme about the incident that leaves the blame with Lizzie.
-
- Lizzie Borden took an axe
- And gave her father forty whacks.
- When she saw what she had done
- She gave her mother forty-one.
Anyway, have a nice day!
Friday, April 15, 2011
Today my name is Leslie
Hello adoring fans. It's been awhile. I know. The reasons for that are two fold. 1 - I haven't been drinking as much coffee. I recently switched to decaf and while I still enjoy the taste of coffee it just isn't the same. 2 - The good people of Starbucks are getting smart. They are now checking my debit card for my name instead of asking me. I find myself trying to trick them into getting my name wrong. Well today no tricks were required. Today my name is Leslie.
Offhand the only Leslie I can think of is Leslie Nielsen (whom I was sad to learn died recently. RIP buddy. RIP). No offense Mr. Nielsen, but I don't feel like being a Canadian. Not today anyway.
It seems like Leslie as a first name is a more modern usage. Historically Leslie was a surname. A lot of impressive people had the surname in fact. Earls. War heroes. Western gunfighters. But I'm still lamenting the recent annihilation of my vacation to Australia so instead of being a gunfighter, today I am Patrick Leslie, one of the first settlers of Australia. (Also known as criminals. Jay kay.)
Patrick was Scottish. Him and his brothers settled Darling Downs in Queensland Australia.
When I was last in Australia I read several books about the continent and some of the history. However, it was at this stage of my research that I realized I don't really care to research the colonization of Australia. So instead I'm just going to imagine that Patrick Leslie's life was exactly like the movie Australia. You should too.
Offhand the only Leslie I can think of is Leslie Nielsen (whom I was sad to learn died recently. RIP buddy. RIP). No offense Mr. Nielsen, but I don't feel like being a Canadian. Not today anyway.
It seems like Leslie as a first name is a more modern usage. Historically Leslie was a surname. A lot of impressive people had the surname in fact. Earls. War heroes. Western gunfighters. But I'm still lamenting the recent annihilation of my vacation to Australia so instead of being a gunfighter, today I am Patrick Leslie, one of the first settlers of Australia. (Also known as criminals. Jay kay.)
Patrick was Scottish. Him and his brothers settled Darling Downs in Queensland Australia.
When I was last in Australia I read several books about the continent and some of the history. However, it was at this stage of my research that I realized I don't really care to research the colonization of Australia. So instead I'm just going to imagine that Patrick Leslie's life was exactly like the movie Australia. You should too.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Today My Name is Lissie
Ideally I'd really like some meaningful historic figure to talk about here. Or something awesome. But as it turns out today I'm Lissie and that's not exactly a meaningful historic name. Or awesome. But this is a great opportunity to talk about where we are as a society. Since I've been watching a lot of The West Wing recently, this will be my State of the Union address.
Not that long ago - and by not that long ago, I mean it, like five/ten years ago - people became famous the traditional way. By doing something extraordinary and then other people noticing. Now people become famous by doing nothing remotely extraordinary and posting it on YouTube. I understand the desire to catalog every minute detail of your life and wanting the world to listen. Hey, I Tweet. I completely-ruining-my-life book status update. Ever worse, I Foursquare. I get what The Presidents of the United States of America were singing about.
The part I have problems understanding is why we care. What propels us to watch a video of somebody we've never met doing something unremarkable? Is it voyeurism? If that's the case go be a peeping tom, I'm sure you'll voir way more interesting things than what people post online. And there is an added bonus that you might by chance, accidentally, do something interesting and happen upon living your life instead of just watching other people live theirs.
Are we instead driven by insecurity? Does watching other people do stupid things make us feel better about ourselves? If that's the case go volunteer at a soup kitchen. Then you can do something good for other people and still feel good about yourself. Or just go make fun of homeless people you insensitive asshole.
The cup that inspired it all:
Lissie is a singer who became famous by singing other people's songs in videos on YouTube. She is, I'm more than willing to admit, an extremely talented singer. And she has written her own songs. But it really bums me out that this is how things work now.
Not that long ago - and by not that long ago, I mean it, like five/ten years ago - people became famous the traditional way. By doing something extraordinary and then other people noticing. Now people become famous by doing nothing remotely extraordinary and posting it on YouTube. I understand the desire to catalog every minute detail of your life and wanting the world to listen. Hey, I Tweet. I completely-ruining-my-life book status update. Ever worse, I Foursquare. I get what The Presidents of the United States of America were singing about.
The part I have problems understanding is why we care. What propels us to watch a video of somebody we've never met doing something unremarkable? Is it voyeurism? If that's the case go be a peeping tom, I'm sure you'll voir way more interesting things than what people post online. And there is an added bonus that you might by chance, accidentally, do something interesting and happen upon living your life instead of just watching other people live theirs.
Are we instead driven by insecurity? Does watching other people do stupid things make us feel better about ourselves? If that's the case go volunteer at a soup kitchen. Then you can do something good for other people and still feel good about yourself. Or just go make fun of homeless people you insensitive asshole.
The cup that inspired it all:
Lissie is a singer who became famous by singing other people's songs in videos on YouTube. She is, I'm more than willing to admit, an extremely talented singer. And she has written her own songs. But it really bums me out that this is how things work now.
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