Nuggets of Gold!

WHEN CHRISTMAS TREES FIGHT BACK

I have to come back to this subject of Christmas trees hauled to the curb long after Christmas. Why? Because in addition to being an eyesore, they're also a friggin' road hazard, apparently.

One tree in particular, placed on the curb that happens to be right outside my first-floor apartment, is definitely out to get someone.

Two weeks ago, I was walking down the sidewalk on the way to my car when a gust of wind caught this nicely rounded, rather large tree and rolled it into the road, a fairly heavily traveled three-lane street. I thought about darting into traffic to grab the runaway tree, but when I saw that the first car barrelling in my direction was driven by someone who was yapping on a cell phone and OBVIOUSLY not paying attention to anything, I thought better of it. Smart move, as he plowed directly into the tree. I watched as he stopped his car, got out to inspect what had happened ("Person, or tree? I dunno, I was on my phone! I can't be expected to look at what I'm driving into!"), tossed the tree disgustedly back to the curb, got back on his cell phone, and drove away.

Tonight it is windy again, and dang if that very same tree (because, news flash folks, the city expects you to bring your tree out to the curb reasonably soon after Christmas, because it has better things to do -- like give parking tickets! -- than patrol for rogue trees all year long) didn't roll back into the street sometime after I turned off the porch light around midnight.

Here's what a Christmas tree in the middle of the street in the middle of the night looks like (click for larger image):

I thought since the street has a low speed limit and is straight and flat and mostly deserted at night, and since people use headlights most times, people would see the tree in plenty of time to choose a non-Christmas-treed lane. But no. In the time it took me to write the part of the post above the photo, two people ran the tree clean over -- without stopping -- and another slammed on the brakes just before it, then carefully drove around it ... and away.

So, being the nice person I am, I ran outside in the pouring rain at 2:30 a.m. and pulled what was left of the tree -- mainly the trunk -- to the curb. YOU'RE WELCOME, people of Raleigh. My hands will be sticky and smell like sap for the next three days, I hope you're happy. Also? Santa, if you're reading this, the former owners of this tree definitely deserve a lump of coal this year. I know you're watching, but I just thought I'd mention it.

EVEN CALENDARS NEED COPY EDITORS

If you can't trust anyone over 30, and you can't trust TV, and you can't even trust the INTERNETS, for darn sakes, who can you trust?

Not your calendar, apparently:

(Click for larger image)

See anything amiss? Check out that bottom row of numbers.

Yeah, seriously. Look at Domo-kun over there on the left -- he's pissed! Right on, Domo-kun. You tell 'em.

MORE STITCHING

Here is a terrible scan of the latest embroidery project I've completed (click for larger, see-able image):

Ignore all the gray stuff -- that's where I couldn't get the fabric to sit smoothly on the scanner. A photo would be a better way to go next time, but both of our cameras have eaten all the batteries in the house, so TOO BAD.

Anyway, I'm afraid of flying, right? Or WAS. I'm sort of almost better now. So this is an airplane, with coloring suggesting a Japanese crane, with very long legs that walk it to its destination. Because while flying through the air a million miles over cities and forests and houses and mountains with NOTHING under you is terrifying, being in a vessel that walks on legs isn't. So this is how I prefer to think of the whole thing.

I have to say I'm kind of disappointed with this one. It's how I wanted it to come out, meaning it's pretty much exactly what I saw in my head. But once it came out on fabric, meh. I think the design needs some work. But no matter! I'll let it simmer for a while and maybe try it again some other time. Maybe on my next flight! If, that is, you're allowed to bring needles on planes these days ...

ARE YOU THERE, GOD? IT'S ME, STACY

K, it's January, right? Like MID-January. So why do I see so many Christmas trees JUST NOW being dragged to the curb for (what I hope is) recycling?

Why, God? Why?

MY NEIGHBORHOOD

Here are two interesting things I noticed around my apartment building today:

1) BUMPER STICKER PROOF: I'd already surmised that our hip little downtown building was filled with damn dirty hippies and bleeding hearts (i.e., my people), but the bumper stickers in the parking lot drove the point home. "Go Organic" and "Make Art, Not War" live here, as does ACLU and lots of indie bands. I even saw a Mike Gravel campaign sticker once! Who even knew there was such a thing??

2) SCI-FI SCARINESS: There's been a lot of exterior work happening at a building just down the street, and when I walked by today on my way to the post office, I noticed a new sign: MINISTRY INCUBATOR. I was picturing evil science labs, and maybe people hooked up to machines like in "The Matrix." But apparently it's just an organization that helps start-up ministries by giving them office space and the like. Maybe there needs to be an organization that helps ministries that help start-up ministries think of less scary names. Just a suggestion.

In news from more than a block away, I checked out a big Asian grocery store today. I give it a C. It was large, and it had some nice touches like fresh fish and a real bakery, but I think it's geared more toward Chinese and Thai populations than Japanese. I did manage to get some soba noodles and the requisite tsuyu sauce, but no Suntory oolong tea and only tiny, wildly expensive bottles of Ito-en jasmine tea. They did have Pocky, but no Men's Pocky, which everyone knows is the best Pocky. Even if you're a girl.

GOT TO STOP

The following two things need to be pounded out of existence with a quickness:

1) Web sites with sound. This is seriously cutting into my ability to surreptitiously surf the Web at work. Because nothing says busted like the quiet, productive stillness of my office being shattered by music/noise blasting from my computer -- a craptacular eMac with integrated speakers that so far I have found no effective way of muting. HEY EVERYONE! STACY'S FARTING AROUND ON THE INTERNET INSTEAD OF WORKING! Thanks a lot, Web sites with sound.

2) Wearing flip-flops in winter. Ew. No. if it is cold enough to wear a sweatshirt, it is cold enough for socks and actual shoes. This applies to everyone, including you, college kids.

That's all, FOR NOW. Return to your lives.

IN CASE ANYONE'S DYING TO KNOW

I recently posted my top 10 CDs for 2007 over on HickoryWind.org. Check it out here, and be sure to let me know what your favorites were! I was recently informed (this is not a joke) that my CD collection is disappointing, so I'm ready to beef it up a bit and am open to suggestions. I am also open to donations, since unfortunately it's expensive to have a vast CD collection. Will work for tunes!

OH YEAH, REAL LIFE

Slowly coming out of the holiday hangover here. Not a literal hangover, thank god -- just the kind of hangover that results from too much eating, too much TV-watching (there's a weeklong "America's Next Top Model" marathon on VH1, what do you want?) and too much general laziness over too many days off. The kind of hangover that makes the idea of changing that routine (or lack thereof) very, very daunting. Work? Errands? Meh. Pass the Doritos, please.

New Year's was a fun time. Formerly Internet-friend, now actual friend Larry and the lovely Heather came over and we headed downtown (so, three blocks away) to watch Raleigh -- the City of Oaks, you see -- drop a giant acorn to ring in the new year. Take THAT, New York. I would post photos of the spectacle, but I can't seem to locate the camera. It'll turn up, though. Just yesterday I found the tape measure we lost, oh, two months ago. This apartment, cavernous as it is, seems prone to eating things. I have more unwed socks than I've ever had in my life. Not sure what that's about. Weirdest of all is we lost a full bottle of 409. Where does that go? It can't get shoved in a sofa cushion, it can't disintegrate in the dryer, it can't fall behind furniture, it can't get left in a dark corner of an old purse. But it's been gone three weeks now, so we've given up and bought a new bottle. But I'm really consumed about the old one. Where did it go? It can't have left the apartment. So it's here, somewhere. But it's still missing, even after a thorough apartment cleaning. One of life's great mysteries, I guess.

So today it's back to work, which is really going to interfere with my "America's Next Top Model" viewing. Also, I'll have to wear nice clothes and actual shoes, also troubling. Worse, I might have to use my brain. Shit.