This is not (quite) a completely lame blog post

So I only have enough time to bitch a bit about the time I don't have. If I had had more than the little more time I have, I would have blogged about:

Deuce ex machina: a few interesting pieces on brain development and the sex chromosomes. This one in the NYT, and another that I should find because it was more interesting, about how the X, compensating for the Y, doubles its output, and so, when two copies are present, one or the other goes dormant. Female cats calico. X central to brain development. Female geniuses or lack thereof. Einstein's mom. Fathers and sons. I firmly believe in your ability to connect the dots.

Land of the lost: the new creation museum. We were sort of close a few weeks back and I sort of didn't consider going. I just not that into it. But I visited their website and came across "How can we see distant stars in a young universe?", which I think would make a lovely title for a poem. I could just have meaning envy.

Anyway, I am going to go back to learning hand-clap rhymes.

Down down baby
I can do karate
Down down baby
I can shake my body
Down down baby
I can phone my mommy
Down down baby
((lightly) tap each other on forehead)
Oops! I'm sorry.

Free at last, free at last, (relatively) free at last

Anoushka Renée Jaroski-Biava was born on 10 March 2007 at 8:54 am. She was 52 cm long and weighed 4.35 kg. And, of course, she's very cute:

and also:

(Noe took that picture of Anoushka. See more of her work (and her) at http://www.flickr.com/photos/a_big_big_world/)

Happy saddest day

So most people go with "blue Monday" being the saddest day of the year, but when I read about it, I remembered the "24" instead of "around Jan. 24" and I've decided to go ahead and designate today as the downest day of my year. Heck, it was a piece in the IHT, and ended with this fine proverb, "You can't stop birds of sadness flying over you, but don't let them nest in your hair," which inspired the first doodle I've done in years -- some girl with feathers in her hair. (The two obvious critical interpretations being: 1) the birds flew on, and 2) I can't draw birds.) And I liked that my year's hump day fell on a Wednesday.

No, the curve isn't completely smooth. Yesterday afternoon the first snow of the year began, and when I went out for a walk that evening the flakes became large and slow -- no longer racing for the ground, not quite still in the air. And I thought, if it would only snow every day, I wouldn't mind never smoking another cigarette. Tomorrow I am going to Paris.

I was expecting bad news today and didn't get it. This can still be the saddest day. While I waited I decided to try to draw birds like Tomie dePaola. I don't quite have the hang of it.

Options

So you still can't find it?

No, not only is the invisible potion invisible, it also turns whatever it touches invisible. I don't know why I didn't put the bottle inside of a second container. Never thought I would want to take it again.

And you're still having that problem?

Yeah, I just can't get used to being visible. Any time I notice someone noticing me, I think there's something stuck in my teeth or that my face is dirty. I've started carrying around a little mirror so I can check. Then I notice that my face is really lopsided. Then I start to worry that people think I'm being vain.

Did you have this problem before?

No, not when I was a kid at least. But now being seen just seems abnormal, and abnormal, for some reason, equals bad.

If I were you, I would just imagine that people were staring at me because I looked like the Hoff in a leather speedo. And forgo the mirror.

Grab bag

In my late adolescence I acquired this rather repulsive but endearing habit (if one can find oneself endearing): when cooking I would collect the various bits of vegetable debris in a plastic bag, spit in it (sometimes add a little hair), tie the bag, toss it in the trash, and say to myself, in a billion years, that'll be something.

Paper or plastic

Anyway, according to the BBC, the One Laptop per Child Project may allow the general public to buy their own XO, but only if you sponsor a second for the developing world.

Everybody's talking about the new iPhone.

Divvying up household chores is such a pain. What about having a simple rule: if you see the other person cleaning, you clean too. No nagging. No lists. No "let me do that for you later" BS. And, of course, you could be exempt if you were doing something else to maintain the house, like fixing the computer that is also the television, the stereo, and the DVD player. Of course, if both people are slobs, this rule might not work. Wait. Nevermind, it would work.

And in a billion years you might have something.

Up in the air, but not upsidedown yet

Something about this short item in the local free paper (Le Matin Bleu) caught my eye this morning. Probably the man flying through the air, but possibly the Icarus mention.

Anyway, roughly translated:

A Vaudois achieves the dream of Icarus

Prototype: At 46 years, Yves Rossy, a pilot with Swiss, has succeeded in constructing a true individual flying wing, propelled by four engines. The pilot has obtained authorization from the federal air authorities, that at first accused him of violating air space, to do testing, revealed "Le Matin dimanche". His dream is to take one or two years off to perfect his prototype, which he has been working on for seven years.

It's hard to make out in the picture here, but he advertises his website on the back of the wings. If you go there, you will be asked for money, and learn about his weird thing for Batman. You will also see that he has done a lot of crazy stuff (like "Planes have handles at the end of their wings... Why not hold on to them between 2 planes whilst they are flying..."), and had other slightly less insane people make videos of said crazy stunts.

At the end of the his (long) flight video (set to horrible music) he claims to be working on a model that can take off.

Dare I guess? Detachable wheels? A very long runway? With a near infinite number of pillows at the end?

1. "Stick out your lower lip"

2. "Raise your eyebrows and shoulders simultaneously"

You're doing the Bof like a born Parisian! Now you can say "I don't know," or "I disagree with your idiotic opinion," or "not my fault," without resorting a single solitary French word.

Tourism officials have issued a guide to Parisian gestures as part of a recent ad campaign to convince potential visitors that Paris isn't just a city of museums; it's also a place where you can go and be rude to the locals in order to be like the locals.

My personal favorite? Has to be Les boules:

1. "Hold an imaginary pair of tennis balls, one in each hand"

2. "Put your hands in front of your neck, as if you were holding your lymph nodes"

Now, I've never held my lymph nodes, so I might not get it right the first few times, but I'm going to have to try this one out the next time I go. Les boules, I'm sick of all this art. Les boules, if I have to walk through this beautiful city any longer, I'm just going to puke. Les boules, les boules.

Quite honestly, I've never had any one be rude to me in Paris. Every guy I've ever spoken to has been incredibly tolerant of my horrible broken French. And what's wrong with museums?

I know it's not the case, but I harbor a secret (or not so) hope that this is just a sneaky way to get the obnoxious to keep their mouths shut and blend.

Or Camembert.

To learn more, go here