Mild Amusement

When the Mild Wife and I moved in to our apartment, we had to do a bunch of shopping in order to furnish the house. We each had items we could contribute to our new home, but even so, there were quite a few that we had to purchase. These days, I look back on some of it quite fondly. Sure, it would've been better had we not made three trips to the nearby store in the same day, but it's become part of our story. There's usually a laugh or two to be had for most of the items in our household. However, the one set of items that has decidedly not made us laugh lately is a set of coasters. Yes, coasters. You would think that it'd be hard to get mad at coasters, but hear me out. Let me finish my tale of woe, and then you can judge for yourself. In hindsight, I shouldn't be surprised. You see, it took forever for us to find a suitable set of coasters. We figured that it would be a relatively quick errand to choose and acquire coasters, but, astoundingly, this was n...

I used to participate in high school speech and debate (side note: I am a bit surprised that I haven't actually written any blog posts about this before, but I can't find any references). It meant a lot of very interesting research on policy and philosophy, and I thoroughly enjoyed my time. So, I have a bit of a soft spot in my heart for the activity. Well, soft spots sometimes lead to empty bellies and hearty laughs. First, you'll need a tiny bit of background. Ultimately, the events are competitions, no different than, say, a swim meet. But it's not like you can measure who finished the debate the fastest. Instead, you need to decide who was more convincing, or who won the argument. Basically, you need a real life person to make a subjective call; you need someone to act as a judge. To that end, each school that participates is responsible for bringing a certain number of judges to the competition. The more competitors you bring to the event, the more judges you n...

A while back, the Mild Fiancée and I decided to have a joint birthday party. We'd never really done that before, but it seemed like a fun way to get our friends together. Some of these folks have already met each other, so it just seemed like a fun day. Well, as many of these posts have proven, things don't always go as planned. It's worth mentioning that the people we wanted to invite were people we hang out with on a semi-regular basis. And since we conceived of this idea well in advance, we mentioned it to a few of them. We even had the date picked out, so we gave them a heads up before actually sending out the invitation. Generally speaking, our friends were all in favor of this, and several verbally committed to being there. All in all, we were quite happy with the reception to this idea, and we started mentally preparing for throwing said party. Now, we probably could have sent out the invitation farther in advance. But since we'd already gotten some verbal ...

As I mentioned last time, the Mild Fiancée and I inherited quite a bit of wine . We had no intention of coming home with that much wine, but we did so anyway. Inevitably, that meant that we were going to try some of them. What would the point be otherwise? So that we could store them instead of someone else? That simply wouldn't do. So, on one fine evening, we decided to be adventurous. We decided to crack open one of those wine bottles. Now, we're not connoisseurs by any stretch of the imagination, but we understand the basic chemistry well enough. Some of these bottles were old, and had not been stored in precise, temperature-controlled environments. Some of them were bound to be losses. The odds just weren't good that every single one was in good, drinkable shape. So, with a laugh, we started in on our very own wine tasting. The first bottle we drew (randomly) happened to be a Chardonnay: You can tell it's a Chardonnay because the bottle says so That seem...

When I was a kid, my dad once showed me and my siblings how to make a pickle glow ... with electricity . I remember being both confused and amazed. It was precisely the sort of thing that a young boy who likes science would enjoy. As it turns out, you can do all sorts of really interesting stuff with household items. All you have to do is apply just the right stimuli or chemical, and something kind of amazing can happen. Of course, I would be remiss if I didn't warn you about that whole pickle thing. You're actually making a resistor out of the pickle, which means that electricity is flowing through the pickle. In fact, there's enough electricity going through the pickle that it can do you serious harm if you're not careful. Be careful if you try that at home, kids. Well, I came up with one of those types of experiments, complete with the associated danger, all by myself. In my case, I did so completely by accident. In order to replicate this particular experimen...

As you are all very much aware, the new year is upon us. That means that the new year's eve celebrations are now done (unless you're really, really going crazy this year). As it turns out, that's a good thing for us. It was somewhat more eventful than we expected. This year, the Mild Fiancée and I decided to stay in to celebrate and ring in the new year. We've been on a bit of a fish kick lately, so we decided to make our own poke bowls  and get some sparkling wine. We figured it'd be fun, and we got a bottle at the local store. It wasn't super fancy or anything, but it did the trick. Just barely, as it turns out. See, I'm getting old, so I was actually starting to feel a bit sleepy by the time midnight rolled around. I wasn't falling asleep, but I certainly didn't want to stay up to finish up a bottle. I also didn't think it'd be wise to pound half a bottle and immediately fall asleep. So, I poured us each a glass, and then I tried to...

So, I was home alone one day. This was not a particularly special day, it was just another weekend. It's not like we're talking about Christmas or a new member of the family or something. No, it was just another weekend, like any other. The only real difference on this particular day was that I was by myself in the house. Now, I had to do chores around the house. The first thing I was focusing on was laundry, so I threw a load into the wash. Everything was going well, and I was multi-tasking so that I could do some writing while I waited for the laundry to finish. Of course, washing the clothes is only the first half of the chore, so I had to throw that load of laundry into the dryer. I also had a second load of laundry to do, so I decided to multi-task. I threw the second load of laundry into the washer, and moved the first load into the dryer. Yes, I know that everyone does this. It's more or less standard practice. But you can't help but feel a little bit product...

When the Mild Fiancée and I moved in together, we started buying groceries together. Sure, that sounds like an obvious statement, but it has led to some very interesting consequences. To quote one of my all-time favorite stories ("The Quiet Man" by Maurice Walsh), that one small statement "holds the risk of tragedy, the chance of happiness, the probability of endurance - choices wide as the world." One of the interesting parts of this was figuring out where we found value. For example, did we want the name-brand mouth wash or was a generic version of this okay? Did we want to opt in to a community supported agriculture (CSA) outfit or did we want to buy our own groceries week to week? For that matter, where did we want to buy said groceries? Did Safeway have a better deal on chicken or did Costco? Decisions, decisions. We did eventually start to make decisions and settle into a pattern, so things started to make sense. However, that's not to say that we did...

As I mentioned last time, the Mild Girlfriend and I headed down to Los Angeles a while back . We had a good time and we even tried a pretty tasty fusion BBQ restaurant . As good as the food was, though, it wasn't all that amusing. Tasty, yes. Funny, no. For funny, something much less mundane did the trick. All it took was two pieces of tape. You see, we were in the area for an event. The Mild Girlfriend was already part of the festivities, so she was front and center with a lot of the proceedings. I, on the other hand, was more or less there as moral support. There were a few tasks that I could help with, though, so I figured I'd try to be actual support in the process, too. As it turned out, there were a few of us in the same boat. We helped move chairs, pack stuff up, and generally just did small tasks so that other people wouldn't have to do so. It wasn't exactly glamorous, but I don't think any of us particularly cared. Of course, the people who actually kne...

Every now and again, I travel for work. Normally, this is a pretty uneventful transaction, though on occasion it can lead to a little bit of hijinx. Apparently, the latest work trip I took was one of these rare exceptions, because it led to not one, but two separate stories. First, there was the story of the scarf that never quite saw any action . This post is the second of those two stories. The Mild Girlfriend and I had made plans to have dinner with some other folks, so I was trading emails with a bunch of them. However, since I was preoccupied with work, I was a little bit spotty about responding in a timely manner. In order to make sure no one was waiting on me, I let people know that I would be out of town. Specifically, I happened to mention which town I would be in. It wasn't an intentional phrasing, I just nonchalantly mentioned that I'd be in town X so that everyone knew I wouldn't be in town Y during the next few days. As it turned out, though, one of the fol...

Let me start by recapping the story so far: There is a word in Cantonese that I've spelled as "kwai." It is an adjective that means, roughly, to be a good son or daughter. It has a lot of connotations of being obedient or doing the family proud, if that helps at all. During an exchange with the Mild Ex's mother, she declared me to be "kwai-er" (e.g., more kwai) than the Mild Ex. Everyone laughed Okay, so with that little bit of explanation out of the way, anyone who knows me should realize that this is precisely the sort of thing that would make me chuckle quite a bit. Given a choice, I'd probably throw in during random conversations for even more hilarity. It's a little too perfect to pass up the opportunity: I beat the Mild Ex at her own game (being a good Chinese kid), I actually understood the Chinese, and there was some creative language involved. This should be the source of banter for days. Note, also, that I kept saying this "...

A while back, I joined up with a bunch of friends for some beers on a weekend afternoon. They picked some place I'd never been to before, but I didn't care all that much. I mean, the general plan was "drink some beer," so it's not like I was going to be too exacting about the venue. I was running a little late, but by the time I got there, the rest of the crew was executing beautifully on the general plan. However, they had thrown a wrinkle in to the plan by also starting up a game of shuffleboard. It's rare that I see a shuffleboard table, so every time I do, I'm always amused by the novelty of the thing. However, seeing as how I was late, I got my hands on a mug of beer, sat back, and watched. Combining the commentary from the peanut gallery with the beers that had been consumed, this was a pretty amusing spectacle to watch. As it turned out, I wasn't going to be a spectator for long. At one point, one of the other guys bowed out, so I stepped up...

Remember how I recently wrote about my penchant for anonymizing (I know that's not a real word, but it should be) my stories? Well, it turns out that some of my earlier writing had not followed this rule. I clearly didn't remember some of these posts at the time when I wrote the linked post. Worse yet, I actually wrote that people had permission to smack me if I started doing so. Crap. Well, that wasn't good. The real question, though, was what to do about it. Overall, these posts were a tiny minority of the blog. I could just ignore the discrepancy, and hope that no one would notice. The odds that someone would actually do so were pretty small, so it's not like it'd be a huge risk. On the other hand, I could go back through all of my writing and make sure I edited out the names. This second plan would obviously take more of my time, and it would be far more tedious. Maybe a recent "This American Life" episode about a retraction influenced my thinkin...

You know that saying, "things happen for a reason?" Well, truthfully, I've never really believed in it much. Maybe I'm just too much of a control freak to accept that I can't change a situation, or maybe my natural tendencies to try to resolve problems run far too deep (at least one Mild-Ex has levied the latter charge against me). I can't really explain it, but you will almost never hear those words come out of my mouth. However, there was one recent, and amusing, exception to this. This tale begins very simply: I'd made plans to have dinner with a friend. We'd wanted to go to a particular restaurant, but I was worried that they'd get busy. So, I made reservations a few weeks out, and set aside the time on my calendar. Like I said, it all started out pretty inauspiciously. Well, the day of dinner arrived, and I hadn't heard from the friend in a couple of days. So, I sent her a quick text message to confirm whether we were still on or not. ...

I've mentioned that recently I've been eating out a lot more  recently. Sometimes, there will be someone else to break bread with, but sometimes I'll just head out to grab something for myself. It's just how it goes; people have different schedules, and sometimes they don't line up properly. Heck, many times I'm restricted by the fact that I have a lunch-time meeting, so I can't exactly sit down at a restaurant with other people. On the days when I need to find something to eat before/during a lunch meeting, I usually need something quick and convenient. It seems like the perfect scenario for fast food, doesn't it? I'm in a rush, and these places specifically cater to someone in that predicament (it's called "fast food" for a reason). In a word, no. I will exhaust every single other option before I step into a place known for golden arches, royalty, red pigtails, or a gigantic head with a wit. Why, you ask? Well, there's a stor...

A little while back, we celebrated someone's birthday at the House of Prime Rib . I'd actually never been there before, but I was interested in trying it. My friends all warned me that they served fairly hearty portions, but I wasn't too worried. I tend to eat a lot, so I can usually clear my plate. Little did I know, this was the first step on a long, sad journey. When I got my plate, I realized that my friends weren't kidding. It was a good amount of food, although it was definitely within my means to comfortably finish it off. As is my habit, I went to work and put most of it away fairly quickly. As I was down to about a fourth of the food, though, I noticed that the food didn't taste as good any more. I don't quite know how to explain it, but I think the combination of the seasoning on the meat and the gravy was starting to get to me. I don't usually like my food seasoned too strongly, so I think my brain was starting to catch up to my stomach. I still...

porque a la cara te caerá. For those who don't speak Spanish, the saying goes, "don't spit at the sky, lest it land on your face." It's roughly equivalent to warning someone that karma has a funny way of getting back at people. And as of this week, I know all about this, from first-hand experience. I have mentioned before that I am mostly a software developer at work. As such, my main focus is mostly to write code & develop applications that are at least mildly useful to my customers. Sure, I have to interact with my customers to tease out requirements from them, and I also have to be mindful of project deadlines and budgets. But, by and large, I consider those things as peripheral responsibilities. They're chores I have to get done in order to do my actual work, rather than my primary responsibility. However, I have more than one friend whose primary job responsibility is to handle many of these very tasks. In many companies, these are all lumped ...

I am an information junkie. Always have been. I'm one of those people that cares far more about the storyline in a video game than the actual game play. At work, I will spend time researching things related to solved problems, because I want to know exactly why it failed in the first place. And if someone learns something new, I want to go see what it's about, because I want to know what they know. I know it's not exactly the average outlook on life, but it is what it is. Anyhow, this mentality leads to my habit of tracking various websites, blogs, and other internet web sources to keep my information flow constant. Doing all of this manually is tedious at best, though, so I use Google Reader  to organize all of these feeds. It just makes things simpler to have a single source of RSS feeds, so that I can quickly browse through items related to my interests. Given all of that, it should come as no surprise that I also try to keep up with my feeds on a regular basis. I ...

I mentioned once before that I take issue with the way the bathrooms are placed in the new office.  There's not much I can do about how the building is laid out, though, so I just deal with it.  Recently, though, I discovered another peculiarity about the bathrooms: every now & then, it will smell like food in there. Now, I don't know about you, but I don't eat in the bathroom.  Ever.  So, this turn of events confused the heck out of me.  The first time I noticed this, it was later in the afternoon, and the door to the little cleaning supplies room was open.  I kind of figured that someone from the cleaning staff was running late or something, scarfed down a quick bite in the supply room, and then went about their business.  It wouldn't have been an ideal situation, but it seemed plausible. However, I noticed that it kept happening.  I can understand one meal in that supply room in a pinch, but multiple meals?  Eating in a room that ...

I'm not much of a soda drinker these days.  I used to drink far more of the stuff when I was in school, but soda just doesn't hold that much of an appeal for me anymore.  Sure, I'll feel like having some every now and then, but my drink of choice on a day-to-day basis is definitely not soda. And over time, I've realized that I prefer some of the sweeter sodas.  In particular, I've found that I like orange Fanta (side note: I was really tempted to start this post with, "I don't always drink soda, but when I do, I prefer Fanta," a la the Dos Equis guy ).  I know it's not common for that to be someone's favorite soda, but then again, I've never claimed to be all that normal. So, given my uncommon preference, I was pretty happy to find out that the vending machine at work has my soda of choice.  Unfortunately, I know all too well that "uncommon" doesn't necessarily sell well.  I walk by that vending machine every single day, a...