Turn around bright eyes...
Don't forget to go outside tonight/tomorrow to look at the moon. It's going to be 'clipsin' and nobody wants to miss a chance to have their soul eaten away by moon zombies and tortured by space phantoms. It doesn't happen often but when it does, it's like, "Damn."
By fiendishlygood at 2007-08-27
That's a sweet little diagram. Thanks NASA. That way if you want to cut to the chase and catch yourself a bloody moon, just go outside at 5.52a (EDT) to save yourself an hour.
Apparently the eclipse is not visible in Africa and the Middle East. What up with that, Moon? Stop discriminating! (Then again, the eclipse is also not visible in Europe. No eclipse for you, Eurotrash! j/k - not eurotrash. They still can't see the eclipse though, so haha.)
And one of the best parts about this all is that you are encouraged to send your own "eclipse observations" to a Dr. Richard Keen at Richard.Keen(at)Colorado.edu. So you can take notes like, "The moon was grey, now it's not" and send them to that guy. I guess the observations of "budding astronomers and students" are preferred, but really, aren't we all students...of life?
Totally unrelated to the moon, I had a busy week. I actually worked for a living this week for a whopping two days at a sample sale in the West Village. It was completely ridiculous: most of the almost 140 employees did no work, but rather stood around, gabbed and stole clothing. One of my supposed co-workers thought it was a good idea to steal a customer's Blackberry and run out the wrong door, only to be chased down by a number of security guards (with guns) and almost hit by a taxi. It caused a big scene that I didn't have a good enough view of because I was busy merchandising, which is just a fancy word for putting shit back where it was supposed to be. I did a lot of that. I also did a lot of untangling spaghetti straps and hanging ribbons, which I guess are prominent and extremely irritating features of designer clothing. I didn't steal a thing, not even a discarded satin jewelry bag.
What was my reward for not being a thief? Getting stalked by some guy possibly named Phil who kind of looked like my little brother. And I don't mean "kind of stalked" - I mean actually stalked as in he followed me around the floor for hours. He wasn't even supposed to work on my second day, but came back because he found out I was going to be there and I didn't give him my phone number my first day. He would reach between the racks across from where I was working to try to touch my hand and hover around me telling me stupid shit like, "Your lip gloss looks really nice today." I observed that he was following me, he responded that he thought it was cute. No, stalking girls is not cute. I was disturbed. To make it worse, he didn't even know my name. He kept asking me what my nickname was or how I spelled it. I (honestly) answered that I didn't have a nickname. He wasn't clever enough to find another way to figure out my name. If you're going to be a creepy stalker you can at least be clever.
Otherwise, the rest of my week was occupied by hanging out with my dad at his office and stealing fancy tea and pain killers, a wine and cheese party (also in the West Village), a wicked wine hangover a re-visit to St. Mark's Place (which I still don't generally approve of, but now it's got a lot of noodle shops), acquiring new smelly oils from the Bunneh, baking tiny apple-peach-cinnamon pies, lounging on other people's couches and beds, playing with cats and eating sushi. I gave one of the cats wasabi as an experiment. Cats don't seem to like wasabi, but they don't protest it as much as one may expect.
By fiendishlygood at 2007-08-27
That's a sweet little diagram. Thanks NASA. That way if you want to cut to the chase and catch yourself a bloody moon, just go outside at 5.52a (EDT) to save yourself an hour.
Apparently the eclipse is not visible in Africa and the Middle East. What up with that, Moon? Stop discriminating! (Then again, the eclipse is also not visible in Europe. No eclipse for you, Eurotrash! j/k - not eurotrash. They still can't see the eclipse though, so haha.)
And one of the best parts about this all is that you are encouraged to send your own "eclipse observations" to a Dr. Richard Keen at Richard.Keen(at)Colorado.edu. So you can take notes like, "The moon was grey, now it's not" and send them to that guy. I guess the observations of "budding astronomers and students" are preferred, but really, aren't we all students...of life?
Totally unrelated to the moon, I had a busy week. I actually worked for a living this week for a whopping two days at a sample sale in the West Village. It was completely ridiculous: most of the almost 140 employees did no work, but rather stood around, gabbed and stole clothing. One of my supposed co-workers thought it was a good idea to steal a customer's Blackberry and run out the wrong door, only to be chased down by a number of security guards (with guns) and almost hit by a taxi. It caused a big scene that I didn't have a good enough view of because I was busy merchandising, which is just a fancy word for putting shit back where it was supposed to be. I did a lot of that. I also did a lot of untangling spaghetti straps and hanging ribbons, which I guess are prominent and extremely irritating features of designer clothing. I didn't steal a thing, not even a discarded satin jewelry bag.
What was my reward for not being a thief? Getting stalked by some guy possibly named Phil who kind of looked like my little brother. And I don't mean "kind of stalked" - I mean actually stalked as in he followed me around the floor for hours. He wasn't even supposed to work on my second day, but came back because he found out I was going to be there and I didn't give him my phone number my first day. He would reach between the racks across from where I was working to try to touch my hand and hover around me telling me stupid shit like, "Your lip gloss looks really nice today." I observed that he was following me, he responded that he thought it was cute. No, stalking girls is not cute. I was disturbed. To make it worse, he didn't even know my name. He kept asking me what my nickname was or how I spelled it. I (honestly) answered that I didn't have a nickname. He wasn't clever enough to find another way to figure out my name. If you're going to be a creepy stalker you can at least be clever.
Otherwise, the rest of my week was occupied by hanging out with my dad at his office and stealing fancy tea and pain killers, a wine and cheese party (also in the West Village), a wicked wine hangover a re-visit to St. Mark's Place (which I still don't generally approve of, but now it's got a lot of noodle shops), acquiring new smelly oils from the Bunneh, baking tiny apple-peach-cinnamon pies, lounging on other people's couches and beds, playing with cats and eating sushi. I gave one of the cats wasabi as an experiment. Cats don't seem to like wasabi, but they don't protest it as much as one may expect.