The anonymous comment experiment: Thanksgiving

You didn't think the anonymous comment experiment was over, did you?

Silly reader.

Here's how it goes, as usual: Please respond to today's question in the comments, anonymously.
Those of you reading the comments on any of the anonymous comment threads, realize that that may increase the likelihood that some of the comments may be mean or NSFW.

What are you not as thankful for as you think you should be?

The good, the mad, and the ugly

So, this weekend, I went to New York, New York, the city so nice they named it twice. Manhattan is the other name.

There were several adventures before, during, and after the trip, but I will share with you the briefest one with the least cursing and threatening in it, for now, anyway.

A friend and I were there to see the friend's brother's band. These guys are really, really good, actually, and this was their EP release party. If you have opportunities to catch Black Taxi live, take them.

While there, we met up with some other folks we know and some folks they know.

And after the awesome awesome show, before we moved on to the next bar, I remembered that my friend's brother had bought my ticket, and that I had not yet paid him for it.

The resulting conversation went like this:

bzzzzgrrrl: Oh, hey, I owe you money.
Friend's brother, still high from the show and the Jim Beam in his flask: No. No, no. I am just so glad you guys came.
bzzzzgrrrl: You don't have to buy my ticket. Let me give you money.
Friend's brother: No.
bzzzzgrrrl: Well, will you at least let a pretty girl buy you a drink then?
Friend's brother: Absolutely.
Crazy woman I know: I think she left.

Awesome. Thank you, crazy.

Questions and answers

As promised, I have answers to your blogiversary questions. Thanks for playing, everyone.

Did you make that cake in the last 24 hours or is it a stock photo that you found?
I found it the same way I find most of the images I use: Wiki Commons. In this case, it was literally the only hit returned when I searched on "birthday candle public domain" (without quotation marks).
In case it comes up again, I do not own a bundt pan. Or napkins with teddy bears.

You're locked in a 5x5 room with one piece of chewing gum, a paper clip, some duct tape and a Slinky. How do you get out?
Why on earth would I want to get out? I have a Slinky and gum.

Do you love unconditionally?
No.
Do I?
You posted this question anonymously, so I am supposed to act like I don't know who you are, and therefore, whether you do or not. However, I have a pretty good guess, and I am assuming you are the person who read the stuff I wrote in the other alphabet. If so, then no, you don't.
If there are conditions, what are they?
Here's the thing: I know that expression primarily in a religious context. I don't put very many conditions on my love, but I know them when I see them. In a romantic context, I will stop loving a partner (maybe slowly) if he or she kills my family, say, or reveals him- or herself to be someone very different from who I thought he or she was in a way that disturbs me. So the conditions are, "as long as you don't do those things." I couldn't possibly guess what all the conditions are, but they are implicit, nonetheless. I think of parental love as even less conditional, and, since neither of us are parents, we haven't had that tested yet. But sometimes parents, even good parents, stop loving their children under certain circumstances. The idea is that God, and probably only God, loves each of us absolutely without condition. There is nothing we can do that will prevent God from loving us. We can do terrible things — we can be Hitler — and God may hate what we do, but will still love us. I don't know what the conditions are between us. I don't suppose there are very many. But I (unlike God) love you because you deserve it.

I wanted to know if you've received many anonymous criticisms, or people you don't know who spot your blog and perhaps leave a nasty comment that never makes it onto the page.
Does that happen often? This is not an implication that you invite that sort of behavior.
In general, every comment anyone makes gets onto the page. I don't screen before they get up, but I can delete comments once they're there. I think I've done that two or three times in the last year: Once, because the author asked me to and didn't realize she could do it herself, once, because just a few days ago I posted my own response to the anonymous comment experiment under bzzzgrrrl instead of anonymously, and maybe one other time that I can't remember now. I don't think I've ever gotten a nasty comment or criticism, that I can think of.

Why does Swiss cheese have holes?
According to Yahoo!, way back in 2002,

... gassy bacteria are behind all that holey cheese. In order to make cheese, you need the help of bacteria. Starter cultures containing bacteria are added to milk, where they create lactic acid, essential for producing cheese. Various types of bacteria can be used to make cheese, and some cheeses require several different bacteria to give them a particular flavor.
Propionibacter shermani is one of the three types of bacteria used to make Swiss cheese, and it's responsible for the cheese's distinctive holes. Once P. shermani is added to the cheese mixture and warmed, bubbles of carbon dioxide form. These bubbles become holes in the final product. Cheesemakers can control the size of the holes by changing the acidity, temperature, and curing time of the mixture. Incidentally, those holes are technically called "eyes," and the proper Swiss name for the cheese is Emmentaler (also spelled Emmental or Emmenthaler).

Is that one of the cake wrecks?
Nope. Cake Wrecks are made by professionals, and although some of them don't look much better than that, I don't think any of them actually have a napkin on them.

How about a word on what your current feelings are about the city mouse living in the country thing?
Blissful.
You probably weren't being as literal as I usually am.
I love it. Pros to my current life:

• cheap beer
• a good job with great hours
• easy access to hiking and other outdoorsy stuff
• easy access to my nuclear family
• a house I both love and can still afford

Cons:

• lack of access to public transportation
• I need to have a lawn guy
  
• my lawn guy is sort of freaking me out
  

Did you get my e-mail? I sent it to the other address you told me to.
Yes, thank you. I'm sorry it took so long to write back.

Who's the cat that won't cop out, when there's danger all about?
Shaft. Right on.

Are you hosting "B" camp next year (I heard you don't like the word we used for it last year)?
I don't use that word much myself, but it's OK with me if you use it. I could host it, but I have a super-good idea involving building it around an existing women's weekend up here at an awesome facility with great food. We wouldn't have to do any of the work, and there would be tons to do. But we wouldn't be able to drink. Maybe we could do the weekend, but extend it to my house either before or after, with tequila.

What about crushes?
What about them? You mean do I have any? Or does anyone have one on me? I have three that I can think of:

• a very nice boy I am getting to know, which is likely not reciprocated, but might be
• a blogger I have never met, who likely does not read this blog and also likely knows I have a huge crush on her, so it's safe enough to say so
• a woman I saw one night last week in a restaurant, who a couple of my friends have gotten all atwitter about, and you know how that goes: we have to figure out where she works, and who she's friends with, and how I will wind up happily ever after with her, despite the fact that none of us have actually spoken to her, ever. Ah, crushes in a small town.
  

And I can think of four people who probably have them on me (three women, one man, none of them the people I have crushes on). If anyone would like to own up to having a crush on me in the comments, I will be all flattered over it.

Happy birthday to me...

Nah, it's not my actual birthday. It is, however, my blogiversary.
Yup, those of you who've been with me since the beginning have been reading this blog for one whole year. Remember the early days? (If not, you should go back and read those. Two out of three of those posts are pure gold.)

So I've been thinking about what kind of a gift to give my loyal readers, and since I am:

• frugal, and
• lazy,

you're not getting much. But you do get a big thank you. And you also get what you get on roughly a million other blogs on their blogiversaries, which is the opportunity to ask me questions. Comment under your real name or comment anonymously, but if you ask in the next 48 hours, I will answer it.

Think big.

The anonymous comment experiment: Exes

I am so proud of the way you all handled that last challenge.

Today, we have a trickier one. The guidelines are the same as last time: Please respond to today's question in the comments, anonymously.
I am sorry that that means you won't be able to plug your own blog; go back and comment on something else for that.
Those of you reading the comments on any of the anonymous comment threads, realize that that may increase the likelihood that some of the comments may be mean or NSFW.

Think about your favorite ex-boyfriend, -girlfriend, -partner or -spouse. Why is he or she your favorite? Why is he or she your ex?

The anonymous comment experiment: Pride

So I had an idea for a question I wanted some answers to today. I'll ask it eventually, but not in this post. I want to see if it will work, first.
Please respond to today's question in the comments, anonymously.
I am considering deleting any comments that are not posted anonymously, or going back and anonymizing them, anyway.
I am sorry that that means you won't be able to plug your own blog; go back and comment on anything else for that.
Those of you reading the comments on any of the (upcoming) anonymous comment threads, realize that that may increase the likelihood that some of the comments may be mean or NSFW.
We'll do a series of these.

What have you done in the last 24 hours that you are proud of?

Wrapping up

Almost time to be done with politics and on to those weekend stories I promised you.

Almost.

Here is the best thing I have read about this election, in the positive way.

I will, unless you ask for it, spare you the beautifully written heartwrenching stuff I have also read about this election, but I have a couple of those, too.

Also, if you are disinclined to read comments, either because you read this on a reader or because you are just disinclined, please go back and read the comments on "Dixville Notch goes to Obama" and "A week."

OK, wait, I'm not quite going to spare you the heartwrenching stuff. If you feel like it, if you gave money to any of the "No on Prop 8" efforts, would you please leave a comment saying so? I am not doing this to shame those of you who did not; we all have lots of things to give our money to. I get that. I'm doing it so I can recognize and congratulate those of you who did a good thing that is important to me.

That's all for now. Fun stories of fall weekends coming soon.

Dixville Notch goes to Obama

That's me up there. Nice, right?

Today, I offer a quick recap of the New Hampshire voting experience.

I walked into the Rec Center at 9:11 a.m.

A woman asked if I was registered to vote in Ward 2, because in New Hampshire, you can register the day of the election, and she was prepared to help me with that if necessary. But I was already registered. "Good girl," she said, and I was both amused and weirdly proud that this stranger was proud of me.

I stood in line behind two people, because a lot of people have names that end with R-Z. There were no lines at any other letters.

The woman behind the table asked if I was who I say I am, and asked if the address they had was correct. She did not ask for any I.D., which is good because my temporary driver's license looks like I made it on a mimeo machine.

She handed me a ballot.

I took it into a little booth and voted, using a Scan-tron sheet and a felt-tip pen.

When I read back over my votes, just checking, I looked at my vote for president, and my eyes misted a little. This is unsurprising, since I cry a lot and am easily moved. I did not have a similar reaction to checking my vote for sheriff.

I attempted to feed my ballot into the scanning machine, and it was rejected. Then the cheery little man staffing the machine attempted to do it, and it was rejected. Several times. I was getting nervous, but about the tenth time he tried it, it worked. We chuckled together, and he gave me a sticker.

"Take two," he said, and then froze. I do not know why those stickers are sacred, but that man and I both know that they are, and that it would be very bad for me to actually take two of them. "You didn't vote twice," he reassured me, and I laughed.

I left the Rec Center at 9:16 a.m., but only because I did not stop at the ginormous bake sale on my way out.

(About the title of this post)

Famous people (sponsored by the College Democrats)

I've had so many great weekends lately (including this one). I'll tell you all about them, soon.

But just quickly: Kal Penn and Rachael Leigh Cook will be on campus today, sponsored by the College Democrats. The signs do not say why. I assume they're stumping for Obama.

Guess my buddy Kal is trying to make up for appearing on a show that normalizes torture and suggests that brown people are terrorists.

It's OK, Kal. We love you anyway.

And I just looked at RLC's 58 acting credits and think it is possible that I have seen none of them. That is how you know how old I am.