Archive for September, 2009
By Belynda, September 27th, 2009 in Other | 2 Comments
I’ve been watching InuYasha lately. Actually, I’ve been watching a lot of InuYasha. More than I should be comfortable fessing up to in a public forum. Because of this recent revival in my love of Japanese animation, I’ve also experienced a revival in my love of - and desire to learn - the Japanese language.
I know, I know. Stupid gaijin wants to learn to speak funny, hectic language way beyond her ken. Then she’ll go to Japan and get VERY politely laughed at by every native speaker she comes into contact with. I don’t care. When have I ever cared about looking stupid? I have my Ph.D. in looking stupid.
I decided to use my drive to work to listen to the Pimsleur Intro to Conversation Japanese CD course. It’s only 4 hours long, so it’s more an appetizer of the language basics just to get you interested (and let’s face it, to get you to buy more shit.) Apparently, the Pimsleur course is the one used by government officials who need high-speed immersion.
I never realized by “high-speed immersion” they actually meant “language basics to get laid.”
The course starts out innocently enough. I can now say “It’s nice weather, isn’t it?” and read it in butchered Romaji (E-otenki desu, ne?) I can also say that I am American (Watashi wa Amerika-jin desu!) and tell you the obvious, that I speak a little Japanese, but I’m not very good yet. (Watashi wa nihongo ga skoshi hanashimasu, demo mada jozuo ja arimasen.) This sounds WAY more impressive when I babble it out loud.
This is where we get into the seedier aspects of the Pimsleur Method. After the self-deprecating niceties of Volume I, the second half of the course focuses primarily with getting your newfound friend drunk and getting them back to your place (For cake, right??)
Are you going to have something to drink? (Nani ka nomimasu ka?)
At my place. (Watashi no dokoro desu) or at your place? (Anata no dokoro desu ka?)
So now I can effectively proposition the opposite sex in Japanese. This will come in handy, since if I’m running off to Japan to have an affair (why do that when there are perfectly good prospects in Tampa!) I won’t really have much to say beyond telling them that I can’t scream affirmations of their prowess in their native tongue, as Watashi jozuo ja arimasen at nihongo ga yet… I mean.. madda.
By Belynda, September 27th, 2009 in Other | No Comments
I just got back from the Biometrics trade show in Tampa, Florida this week where I was running a hospitality event for my company. The event went off without a hitch. A good time was had by all, and if I had managed to snag a bite of the nibbles on offer I’m sure I would have agreed they were delectable.
I learned a few things about trade shows that up until recently I’d only filed under the heading “Urban Legend.” I never really thought there was any credence to the idea that a LOT of flirting, infidelity and general borking around happens at these events. That was before I actually went to one, and saw some of the prowlers in action.
First, there was the guy on the tradeshow floor who blatantly stopped and checked out my ass as I sauntered by. He was one of the booth personnel (not our booth, thankfully. I’d hate to lose my job over destroying one of my co-workers.) I skipped his booth.
THEN, the adorably gentlemanly but much older greeter at the exhibition floor called me a “really beautiful lady.” Twice.
I felt a little like Miaka in the first episode of Fushigi Yuugi, astonished that she gets flattered by two guys in one day. “Could it be that the way I look is attractive in this world?” Of course, neither of my particular suitors had long flowing hair, Heian-period kimono, or giant swords. So much the worse for me.
The coup de gross (no typo there, folks) came after the hospitality event. I’m heading to settle up the paperwork with the event manager, and I get caught in one of those dodge-dodge-dodge episodes coming off the elevator. The guy says “One more dance, but then I’m really going to have to go.” Gracious enough.
Fast forward twenty minutes. I’m getting on the elevator, and I hold the door for the two people coming on. Much to my surprise, one of them is… you guessed it, my dance partner. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“You missed me, huh?”
“Of course! I miss you every day!” Okay, points for being charming. And British… but in sort of a smarmy, Ricky Gervais meets Stephen Fry sort of way. And he was something like 40. Still not creeped out, though. Elevator door closes.
“Ah, I know. I’m all the way in Boston. It’s hard to be so far away from me.”
“And yet, I’ve forgotten your name. My facial recognition though, is dead on.”
Okay, so this is sort of a smooth way to get someone’s name. I introduce myself (no last name) and he does the same. Steve. Smarmy, British Steve. It could have been worse. He could have been Scottish.
At this point, the kid in the elevator is utterly perplexed by this exchange, and is all too happy to get off at his floor. Ding. Door closes. Still not creeped out.
“So lets go get dinner.” Steve says. It was something to this effect, although I can’t really remember the exact words since it was at this exact moment when I started getting creeped out. I try to be gracious.
“Ohh, sorry Steve. I’ve got a really early flight. Thanks though!”
Not to be deterred, Steve “gets turned down for a fiver and asks for fifty grand” as Hornby so eloquently put it. We’re at the 20th floor. Steve is at 24th. I’m at 25th.
“Oh, well at least let me buy you a piece of cake. All girls love chocolate, right?”
DING! Steve’s floor. I’m now smiling to hide the horror.
“C’mon, it’s right down this way.”
I let him make the bush-league move of getting out of the elevator before me.
“Sorry Steve! Can’t tonight. Thanks though!”
“Aww if not now, then when?” He said, still wearing the million-dollar charm. I have to give the guy credit, he had a titanium set on him to think he could bribe a 27-year-old into bed with chocolate cake. Good thing he didn’t say crème brulee. The story might have had a different ending 
Actually, I wanted to tell him that it would happen when hell froze over, but the elevator door closed.
Actually, there were quite a few good comebacks that didn’t emerge from the fog until I was back to my room. Oh well. Esprit L’Espalier.
1. You should have promised me a golden retriever puppy, Steve. I don’t get in someone’s van for just any old thing.
2. We don’t pronounce it “cake” in this country, Steve.
3. (Courtesy of my sister) I suppose then you’re going to want me to blow out your candle too, right?
And so ends my tale of being, if only for a day, a raving trade show beauty in the land of sun-kissed exhibitions… and exhibitionists.
By Belynda, September 3rd, 2009 in Other | 8 Comments
Tags: autumn, baking, bread, canning, fall, jam and jelly (in my belly), kate gosselin, kittens, merlene, nanowrimo, soups
I’m very excited! This is my first autumn-themed post since I started the blog. Dimestore roared to life back in January, in the stale cold of winter and four miserable hours of sunlight a day. The seasonally affected do not blog well. Being “born” after Christmas but before the thaw, there wasn’t a whole lot to blog about but shoveling.
Summer this year, being just an annex of spring of course… didn’t really merit a whole lot of attention. By the middle of July we were all running into the streets and hissing at the glowing yellow orb that seemed to have come out of nowhere to cook us where we stood. Finally in September, we’re getting 77-degree days - but you can still tell.. the nip of fall is in the air!
Fall is my favorite season, and Eddie’s as well! I suppose it’s fitting. We met in the Fall, fell in love in the Fall… Every year we get excited to break out the sweaters (or the vests, if you’re Ed.) We start to gawk at the red-gold leaves zipping past on the highway, marvel at our breath condensing in the air, and I start to get nervous about all the classes I’ve piled on.
Nano is only two months away now, and I’m starting to get revved to spend a lot of time with the Boston crew, guzzling coffee and watching Travis give his yearly rendition of “Merlene the Drag Queen of Waxaucatchy County” (I know that’s spelled wrong, guys. I’m not southern. I’d appreciate an assist!) We’re going to miss Randy and his luxuriant mane this year! Plus, Travis cut off his burgeoning flowing locks, and I’m practically sporting a Kate Gosselin, so Brandon alone will carry the Torch of the Flowing Tresses.
This year we have a few new things to look forward to. The kittens are starting to realize that the world isn’t warm all year round, and have taken to snuggling up to our legs at night. Jawsie, who never snuggles with mama (she’s daddy’s little girl to be sure) was even laying alongside the last few nights, sucking up some radiation from her humans. Indiana, snuggle-bug by heart, was on the bed practically as soon as we were in it. I sort of look forward to waking up chilly in the mornings with kittens keeping my tootsies warm.
In my ongoing effort to get into the Christmas spirit - which was summarily executed by two years of Christmas spent working retail in the Rockingham Mall - I am joining a Christmas Chorus!! Dave and Beth, and Beth (we have a lot of Beths!) are all members of the Merrimack Valley Players, and after 4 years of crummy timing and overstuffed schedules, they have finally convinced me to give MVP a go for the Christmas season. I guess it’s a step in the right direction, hmm? So, in a bitter irony, I will spend my most favorite season singing the musical propaganda of my least favorite season. As Vonnegut would say, “So it goes.”
More than anything else, Fall means baking for me. The house is cool enough to turn on the oven, and so we break out the recipe books. I start to churn out hamburger stew and fish chowders, and we make a lot of bread during the fall and winter. My favorite, English Cottage Loaf will be showing up in the oven pretty soon. It’s soft and chewy, an incredible starter for toast with butter and honey. One batch of dough makes two hulking loaves - which last about three days in our house. Labor Day Weekend will most likely see the start of the bread-making season at Casa Cianci.
We’re looking forward to trying our hand at something new this year as well! Every year we talk about canning our own jam, and I always have a craving for my favorite winter comfort food - macaroni and cheese with stewed tomatoes. This year, we’re going to try a few recipes, and turn the kitchen into a bonafide assembly line for sweets and preserves. If all goes well, you might just find some in your Christmas stocking (but only if you’ve been really, really good… or can entertain us with your stories of being an utter degenerate.) I’ll probably blog the cooking/canning process for the curious… and because I know Brandon is going to cause me to lag behind in blog posts sooner or later, and it’s something interesting to write about!
Sad as I am that our very brief summer is drawing to a close, I’m very much looking forward to all the projects and events coming up over the next few months.
