My morning so far

So it's cold in my office. The radiator's barely above room temperature: clearly there's been no steam coming up for awhile--which happens occasionally even in my semi-fancy apartment building in my very fancy neighborhood. So I dig out my electric heater, which is buried under some stuff in the corner. (One of these years I'll clean up this place.) It doesn't work. I vaguely remember having had problems with it last year. So I go to the storage closet and find another one (we have several). But its cord is shorter, so I have to find a heavy duty extension cord. Unbelievably, it's right where it should be, in the "electrical stuff" drawer in the other storage closet. I plug it in. Ah finally, heat.

Two minutes later steam starts coming up to the radiator.

Weird websearch of the day

blue glob in ohio at gas station
Someone came here doing this search, which lists my blog first. Apparently they were looking for information on this news story: Ghost-Like Blue Cloud Haunts Parma Gas Station.

When I lived in Cleveland, Parma was the suburb we all made fun of. Except the Parmasans, or whatever they call themselves, of course.

Semi-random thoughts

● I just passed the ninth anniversary of the first time I presented as a woman.

● I also just passed the first anniversary of my mom's death.

● It's not as much fun watching a recorded sports event when you already know the outcome--even when you like the outcome.

● Councilman To Introduce Bill That Would Ban The Feeding Of Pigeons. I thought it already was illegal. I'm all in favor of curbing the pigeon population (rats with wings), but I don't know if appointing a czar is really necessary.

● The absolute worst pick-up line I have ever heard of (courtesy of Overheard in New York):

You are so beautiful, I would suck on your father's dick just to taste where you came from.

He's not just a sports writer

Sports Illustrated's Rick Reilly is a great writer--not just a great sports writer. His column in the Nov. 12 issue (not online, unfortunately), "It Isn't Just A Game," is a masterpiece. It explains why spectator sports is so much fun--and a bit why it's so important for society. My favorite quote:

Sports encourages good healthy hate. If I'm an Auburn fan, I can hate you, an Alabama fan, from the bottom of my hater, and it's all right. Who knows where all that hate would go without sports?

(But I wonder if "hater" is a typographical error--it is an anagram for "heart.")