tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43469357431769687392024-03-19T01:28:19.868-07:00Dispatches from Planet ElainerUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4346935743176968739.post-84290750058087511922017-07-31T12:56:00.000-07:002017-08-18T13:25:27.767-07:00Wonder Woman's Got Nothing on MeThese days Wonder Woman is the one making headlines, but a
few years ago I, myself, developed amazing superpowers. I used to be an
ordinary person, like you, but the introduction of alien DNA during pregnancy
gave me bewildering new capabilities. And kids to test those powers. I’m still
working on my Super Name, but a good one will need to encapsulate the full range
of my new Super Powers, which Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4346935743176968739.post-49593303476683749762017-06-23T08:23:00.001-07:002020-09-26T22:50:33.587-07:00Sad Clown: the Backstory
Travel lets you broaden your horizons. And flaunt your ignorance.
I don't know a lot about art; I just know what I like. So I was looking forward to this package trip to Paris to see all things beautiful and artistic. I was traveling with a friend who loved to research the hell out of a destination. She knew where
to buy the cheap Louvre tickets in advance, which restaurants the New York Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4346935743176968739.post-62009647281052994632017-05-19T14:13:00.001-07:002019-01-05T12:34:25.649-08:00Ganesh and I had a Rough Day Today<!--[if gte mso 9]>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4346935743176968739.post-58787883311356268722017-03-15T09:44:00.000-07:002024-02-29T23:10:32.517-08:00First Set of Wheels<!--[if gte mso 9]>
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Recently a
"friend" dredged up a memory I had long suppressed: driving my old
beater down the road with the horn stuck blaring, at a volume only an old American car can produce.
Because
it wasn't bad enough I was not especially cool in high school, I also had to
drive my elderly aunt's old-vomited-spinach-colored car. A car she could not
have been Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4346935743176968739.post-90907051275477658372017-02-28T07:11:00.003-08:002024-02-29T23:15:24.420-08:00 Go West! (Part II)
or
Westward,
ho-----------ld on
One of the truly beautiful
things about Youth is that whole underdeveloped frontal lobe bit. All things
are possible when you don’t stop to consider why not all things are possible. Sure,
I can drive across the US in a full rental truck. With no prior truck-driving
experience. With some old, paper maps. I have a credit card and a cell phone—what’s
the Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4346935743176968739.post-2351976313576019982017-01-14T15:56:00.002-08:002024-02-29T23:05:53.731-08:00The Girl<!--[if gte mso 9]>
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She's adorable, of course. I would know; I'm her mom. She's funny and clever. Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4346935743176968739.post-62192633354777905342016-06-09T21:27:00.000-07:002024-02-29T23:10:48.838-08:00Negotiating Fashion<!--[if gte mso 9]>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4346935743176968739.post-30784930288739582812016-02-28T02:21:00.000-08:002017-07-06T10:42:21.220-07:00Go West!<!--[if gte mso 9]>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4346935743176968739.post-48341732910082063582016-01-17T10:13:00.001-08:002024-02-29T22:52:22.756-08:00By Any Means Necessary (When Skill is Not an Option)<!--[if gte mso 9]>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4346935743176968739.post-32719380358001269362015-10-09T23:06:00.000-07:002017-07-06T10:43:33.670-07:00Rescue Pets
Who, me?
When I reach the checkout counter at the pet store, they usually ask would I like to donate a few dollars to rescue animals? This makes me want to ask, "Would you like to know how many times today I already rescued my cat--from herself?"
A typical morning goes something like this: Darling kitty tries to swallow a crinkly cough drop wrapper, but at the last possible Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4346935743176968739.post-76634724607409623192015-09-11T08:00:00.000-07:002017-07-06T10:43:57.375-07:00Spam-to-English Translator<!--[if gte mso 9]>
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Spam
subject lines: they're supposed to tease you into opening an email, and then
you're hooked. Or hacked. So, if you're unsure whether to open that spam,
here's a handy Spam-to-English Translator—a feature not yet available even from
Google Translate—to tell you what those subject lines really mean for
you.&Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4346935743176968739.post-51124225012639025592015-07-10T08:00:00.000-07:002017-07-06T10:45:20.472-07:00Crickets<!--[if gte mso 9]>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com