Yes, folks, those are demarkations for different slice sizes. I am in love.
From the site:
With this plate the concept of measurement is explored in a way to create a connection between the person and the object. For instance, when cutting cake or cheese, nobody will complain about having the smallest slice.
Damn you Canada. How can my boyfriend and I keep making jokes at your boringness when you create such a wonderful product?!?
Thank you, Serious Eats, for finding such a wonderful thing. I love the internet.
The following turned up in my mailbox a few days ago: (The original email had large blank areas, which wordpress was kind to remove. I reckon it wass supposed to look like a formal letter, but come on. Get with the times. It’s an email)
11.06.2008
Dear Mace,
After completing our review of the applications we have received for the position of Sr. Research
Associate, we are sorry to say that you are not among the candidates to be considered for the position.
We appreciate your interest in Genencor. We encourage you to stay up to date on other job
opportunities in our company as they arise.
We wish you the best of luck in your employment search.
What’s confusing is this: I’ve been at my new job for four months now. I don’t even know WHAT I applied for at Genencor anymore. And why on EARTH does it take them more than six months, just to tell me I’m not good enough? Strange business, my friends.
I heard Tonight, Tonight in my car on the way to work this morning, and remembered that this is the song that started it all. The song that started my best friend and I on a non-stop journey of comparisons between Billy Corgan and Eric Cartman. Seriously, listen. They’re near interchangeable.
Wait, no I don’t. Everyone knows I’m a giant powderpuff.
I spent my lunch at work today reading over SFgate’s coverage of the marriage deluge today. I have to admit, I was on the verge of happy tears the entire time. This pleases me so much.
As Tina often says, “Everyone should have the right to be miserable.”
A year ago today, I had dinner with my family, including an aunt and uncle and cousin, who then went to the theater while Tyler and I went to the symphony, and after that, though exhausted, went to Emily’s Housewarming Party. And though we swore we were only going to stay for one drink, I stayed until at least two in the morning.
A year ago today, there was a handsome man standing in front of the beer. He had been outside smoking, and so I dusted off his jacket, saying “Hold still, you leaned on something dusty. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Mace.” The next day I emailed Tanya, on the pretense of asking if she needed help with her upcoming party, but really to tell her that her roommate was cute.
A year ago today, I met Trevor, and it’s been puppy dogs and rainbows ever since.
The boyfriend went to see Angel Corpse last night (surprisingly, I decided to hang out with my dad instead of seeing a satanic death metal band), but came over to my house afterwards. I remember hearing his keys in the door and saying Hello, but nothing else. Evidently we had the following conversation:
M: Did you have a good time at the show?
T: Yes I did. Brandi says hi.
M: Did you punch people?
T: … What?
I wake up each morning to the radio, as beeping sounds first thing in the morning make me… none too pleasant to be around. I had talk radio on for awhile, but now I find that I can sleep right through that easily, so it’s music. Now, as you may know, I live near Sutro Tower. Which broadcasts KFOG*. On, like, EVERY STATION. KFOG takes over about 70% of the dial. Lucky for me, I like the station.
After hitting snooze twice this morning, a song blasted out of my tiny stereo that was enough to pull my lazy head from the pillow: One Night in Bangkok. Written by the two male members of ABBA for the musical Chess, it’s a magical four minutes of lazy rapping about how chess is superior to anything Thailand has to offer. If it doesn’t sound immediately familiar, watch the (fantastically bad) video, it’ll all come back to you, if you’re around my age. Make sure you read the lyrics, too.
So I was hoping to peruse YouTube and find tons of live versions, since I’ve never seen Chess live, and sadly, never expect to. And though there are 587 hits on the site, very few are of people singing. There seem to be a great deal of montages made to the song. But have they missed the point of the song? (Rhetorical question: they do.) This is my favorite:
Yes, that’s Hungarian.
Here’s where I get very sad: NETFLIX DOES NOT HAVE ANY VERSIONS OF CHESS.
What do I do now?
* The morning crew on Live105 recently described KFOG as “NPR with music,” which isn’t entirely true, but I find hilarious. I hope someone passed that along to people at KFOG.
This is our performance for the Spring Performance Workshop at Rhythm and Motion. We put this together in about eight weeks, working out butts off. This is one of the hardest choreographies I’ve ever participated in, and I’m pretty proud. In case you can’t tell, I’m the only one with short hair. I’m the first one to walk in from the left, and once the footwork starts, I’m front and center.
It’s not traditional Flamenco by any means. The song style is called Martinete, which is a structure that’s not used a lot in shows. It’s not an intuitive beat, though it makes interesting combinations. I feel like I should add that we’re on boards because the marley floor in that studio makes all footwork sound completely dead.
Watch it while you can, as there are rumor it may be taken down, for fear of choreography theft. A subject that had never even crossed my mind until someone mentioned it yesterday.
However, I didn’t actually use it to buy anything, so I think the spirit of my monthly omission stands. Last Saturday I headed down to my old stomping grounds for 01SJ, which was fantastic. I have issue with the organizers, as I found both the website and the print brochure rather confusing, but once my friend and I got our bearings, we managed to find most of the things we were interested in.
My personal favorite from the festival are the exhibits in the San Jose Museum of Art. And here’s where the loophole comes in: it was free admission that weekend to anyone with a Bank of America card. They didn’t swipe it or anything, I just had to hold it up, and walk on in.
But at any rate, I would have GLADLY paid the eight dollar admission fee to see the two exhibits that tied into the festival. In fact, I’m not even going to describe them, because I want everyone to go down and see them. Lucky for you, Superlight is there until the end of August, and the ROBOTS EXHIBIT* is there until mid October. Seriously, if you can, go see them.
* I love paintings and photos of robots. In a major way. This is the best exhibit ever.**
** Okay, this is a lie. This is the second best exhibit ever, after the Art & Technology exhibit at the SFMOMA a few years ago that was way interactive and special to me.
