I just tried microwaving an all natural, completely vegan version of a brownie in the microwave in an effort to get some moisture back into it. What came out of the microwave after 60 seconds was a ball of smoke.
There is an excellent food co-op in the area, on Rio Grande. Part of its charm is the employees, all of whom seem friendly and pleased to be working there. Two employees caught my attention. There is one woman who only looks into the eyes of the women customers, and barely glances at the men. Not sure why, but it is a neat peculiarity. I think her name is Maggie or something similarly Irish. And more recently I took note of she who shall be known as “ass crack girl” (or AC for short) in honor and admiration of her paleness above her grey sweat pants (which barely can hold on to her slim form). I’ve got to respect the boldness and freedom of one who decides to share her butt with the world – albeit in only small glimpses as she stocks shelves and does whatever else one does at a food co-op. Both me and my female housemate regarded her butt but we didn’t get a clear look at her face. I tried to get a look at her as I was leaving and I am not sure I was looking at the same person (now behind a register rather than stocking shelves) but if it was her, she appeared to be one of those smart geek-girls, with glasses and a smile, the kind you (or I) just wish I was dating. Later that night I had a dream that me and ass-crack girl were together, and she had a red early-1960s style (vintage recreation) overcoat.
I’ve been watching season one of LOST (pronounced “lahwst”, not “lost” — it’s a common mistake) and because I am only on season one I haven’t been able to listen to other people’s speculations, or voice my own. So I’ll post my theory here, based on about a dozen episodes and the following clues: a metal hatch in the ground; polar bears; a 30-ft high monster that is very heavy and mechanical sounding. Here’s the theory:
The “hatch” leads to an underground habitrail system for the polar bears, who occasionally come out of these hatches and strap on 30-ft high metal exoskeletons which they clomp around in (the “monster” that lurks on the island).
So, even though I’ve sussed it, I’ll keep watching because I need to know why the polar bears would do this.
The first time I stopped to get gas for my car in Albuquerque, I sensed something may be different about the pumps here. I had not driven my car across the country myself (I’d flown while someone else drove my car) so I did not have any reason to be sure of the impression, but, I felt that these fuel pumps here might not sense when a car’s tank is full. In all the town’s I’d lived in, pumps knew when a tank was full and automatically stopped, releasing the trigger even when the trigger was locked into place. But did they here? The first time I fueled up I did not take the chance – I simply pumped ten bucks worth and stopped manually. My second refueling was today and I decided to go for a full tank, intuition be damned. I put the nozzle in, clicked the trigger, and waited. And sure enough, after my tank was full, gasoline started overflowing all over the place, down the side of my car, onto the pavement. Fortunately the nozzle had some kind of splash guard so it didn’t get on me (except for a lingering scent on my hands). Maybe that splash guard had subtly indicated to me that these pumps may be more primitive, but then again I had no reason to believe that non-sensing pumps even existed. I’m not sure which aspect of this story is most interesting — that intuition works, or that there are non-sensing pumps in Albuquerque. Perhaps “interesting” is too strong a word.