So I’m out of town the next couple of days; on top of that, I have been super busy the last week or so — a trend that will continue for the next 3 weeks or so.

So here are a bunch of links (better late than never) that should have been thrown up days ago. Sorry. And yes, I should be back on track posting someday.

• $490 billion. We have hit a new record with the deficit. This comes as people start to realize we are in some deep trouble: “People in the know like George Soros are saying this is the worst financial crisis since the depression.”
• Spoiler alert: Barry Allen is returning as the Flash. If you are a nerd, you’ve known this for months. If you aren’t, you don’t know who Barry Allen is anyway. Nor why Geoff Johns writing this “Rebirth” series is frightening. Here is my short take: Barry Allen is pretty much the last (only) superhero that has been killed and not come back. This is a really depressing turn of events, undoing decades of storytelling progress to cater to the whims of fanboys. I mean — Johns is bringing back Krypton in the coming months (by taking Kandor and bringing it up to full size. On Earth.) Anyway, this now will complete the undoing of the original Crisis.
• Lost spoilers from ComicCon. Nothing shocking, really. But still. Spoilers.
• Ludachrist, which I haven’t had time to listen to yet. But it’s compared to Girl Talk — but better. Which I don’t find to be much of a stretch, frankly.
• Randy Pausch has passed away. Worth watching “The Last Lecture” one more time.
• And why you should never talk to the police — even (and especially) when you are innocent.

Popularity: 2% [?]

Have I mentioned how boingboing does less than nothing for me? No? Here, just take this link and we will leave it at: this sums up boingboing for me. if there was a cthulhu reference in here it would be all over.

This looks like a late-18th-century organette, correct? Look again. It hides the Dell laptop you got me when I went to college. This bronze hand crank turns it on, and I've hidden a miniature photo printer where the tune sheet is supposed to go. I even installed Linux. I've put a lot of time into this since I quit my job at Anthropologie, which is something else I wanted to tell you about. Don't get up and go to Lowe's yet. But when you're there can you get me a two-speed fan capacitor?

Don’t be silly. I am not affiliated with the goths who hang out at the end of the boardwalk. Yes, rivetheads have made attempts to horn in on my culture. It’s attractive to them. Since Evanescence went mainstream, they’ve been able to buy their clothes at Spencer’s Gifts. But just because they read about our ways on Boing Boing doesn’t mean they can rock a true neo-Victorian lifestyle. It takes a lot of time and a lot of welding.

from Mom, Dad,
I’m Into Steampunk.

Popularity: 2% [?]

I have 100 millions posts, thoughts, trappings.

The short reminder for the moment:
Sometimes I forget how much I love a certain album or band.

Today it is Kruder and Dorfmeister.

Popularity: 2% [?]

It is something when you wake sobbing. This morning I had an intensely realistic dream, one where the pavers were wet with pre-dawn dew, lampposts shined with their amber hue in the darkness, and blades of grass shimmered on a dark hillside.

The first part of the dream is this: I was out late. Well, not me exactly. Single me. Before wife and children. Apparently, I was out late on the town (seemingly normal and comfortable for me in the dream, but completely out of character for me in real life), walking from there to here, along a cobbled path between (European?) apartment buildings. There was something of a grassy slope to one side of the path, steps. I passed a woman I knew and chatted. I proceeded on, I think rebuffed but kindly so.

Then, I was in a cafe of sorts at dawn. There were people gathered and delectables in the front counter case. There were also many people I knew, mostly family, living and deceased. My mom was there, along with her parents, and so was my Granddad, with an older black man I couldn’t place. There were others, but I can’t quite grab them back from my unconsciousness. We all sat together happily. There was discussion of a great omlette the chef made, but my mom was discouraged that it took 40 minutes to make (something about that time not including ingredients) and that we wouldn’t have that kind of time.

My Granddad turns to me, his face full but wrinkled, looking much tanner than I think he ever was in life, and says “You’ve been praying a lot about the things you don’t want to happen instead of …”

“…the things I want to happen.” I finish with a dawning realization. As I reeled from that revelation, my mom’s parents show him some kind of weird, raised-pinkie, partly-closed-fingers hand symbol that when you lay two or four hands together it makes a knot or cross. I tried to peer closer to see exactly how it was done–they were showing it to my Granddad (I remember thinking “Oh, they’re Catholic and he isn’t)–but as I wondered why I could only see it from the side, my mind said “Of course you can’t see what it looks like. You’ve only ever seen it from the side in real life, and this is a dream…”

At which point I viewed the cafe from above, and all the occupants in my party faded out leaving empty chairs. And I awoke feeling desperately alone.

Popularity: 2% [?]

ladies and gentlemen, i give you …

the wiibrator.

Popularity: 2% [?]

That’s all I have to say. I was thinking about why I hated Jason Mraz, just like you do. And I think it was just because he was an arrogant guy who got famous. And I was just jealous that he got famous and rich and gets to be on VH1 sometimes. But I think I’ve come to peace with it now.

His music is cheezy and stupid to us, but every fourteen-year-old girl in America seems to like him quite a bit. He found his niche at least. And don’t you wish you could do something like that with your name?

He was arrogant and kind of a douche in high school. But there were a lot of those at our school. And I don’t remember a single one, except Mr. A-Z. And that’s just because he’s famous. And good for him for turning it into an asset and going into a career where he can grow into his own ego. If all of us were this confident with ourselves when we were in high school, we might all be famous too.

I’m over it. I’m tired of all this hate.

So go for it, Jason. Do your thing. Just don’t get too close. I want to stay where I can listen to some good music in piece.

Peace.

Popularity: 2% [?]

I keep dreaming about work. I feel like I should be charting my day to day conditions; even without doing this, I know that I was less stressed this week than last.

This is also reflected in the fact that I dreamed about work at least twice last week and only once this week. Yet I am leaving work on Friday tense and unhappy.

Bummer.

At least the dream last night had tons of cats in it too. It’s the little things.

Popularity: 2% [?]