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From a pump-and-dump scam spam:
"These stocks are highly volatile, and you can lose all your money. They can trade very high and very low in minutes; we suggest if you are not a savvy investor you sit back and watch."
I think I'll go ahead and do that.

Today at work there was a very short conversation in French between two or three people. I was amazed and delighted at how much of it I was following. Then, it was a very simple conversation, along the "Hey, do you speak French?" "No, a little bit." "My friend and I do," lines. That's about the limit of my listening-French, but it was good to hear that I still have those words and can follow when someone else is talking. It was an "I ought not to understand this because I don't speak this, but I'm tracking it" sort of moment. I was delighted.

I was cooking acorn squash last weekend for the first time ever. My mother used to bake them all the time when I was growing up, but I had never cooked one myself. I knew that you have to separate the soft tasty bits from the rather nasty rind, but I wasn't sure how to do so. I decided that perhaps if I mashed it like a potato, that would work. But I didn't have a potato-masher in my kitchen drawer. I was not daunted! I took up a melon baller in one hand and a wire whisk in the other hand and set to with a will! I smashed the squash clumsily with the wire whisk in my left hand and scooped it out (even more clumsily) with the melon baller in my right hand.
Yes -- I made a gourd-awful mess.

Recommended by petermorwood: http://tvtropes.org -- a wiki of things to keep a writer or devoted media consumer busy for hours. At least, I think he was recommending it. He was definitely describing how much time he'd spent there...

emmacrew raved about http://www.decentexposures.com as far as custom bras go.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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