A night at the opera -- of sorts.

So here I am celebrating the average of two blogoversaries (yesterday it was Althouse, tomorrow it’s the Tonya Show). I’ve been wined and dined to the hilt (thanks, Althouse) and now we’re watching movies—ones that are not in the mainstream. [Neither are the characters in the films– they are deteriorating into a hell of mental instability as I write.]

But wait. What happened? One blogger’s out. Temporarily. The other is out (did I hear a delicate snore?)– more permanently. Is it the movie? Is it the wine? IS IT ME??

Coffee notes

Early in November, the NYT ran an article evaluating the different espresso makers on the market (the article is now in archives, but can be looked at here for a fee). The upshot was that, for complicated reasons of power, steam, capitalism, whatever, none of the machines, not even those priced over a thousand dollars, can produce the frothy cup of espresso that you can sip in a coffee house.

I was ever so happy to read that because I do not have an expensive espresso machine (my Italian stove-top costs all of $20) and I am glad I am not missing out on something grand. On the other hand, I really do think that a small latte for $3 is an extravagance and so I do not hit the Ancora-Borders-Victors-Starbucks shops very often. Just occasionally. Like this afternoon.

The warm sun streaming into my living room, a nice cup of take-out latte at my side and an idle moment (one of many today, it seems) led me to the following musings:

What’s wrong with this picture?

This is what one might classify as odd behavior. 

Is it like hoarding frequent flyer miles, where you get really scared of using your accumulated wealth because then suddenly you have to face a statement with a balance of zero, which seems like you’ve just taken a step back in life?

And another thing: when I make my own home version of a latte, I use organic milk, because in the nonfat version, it has more taste than the watery regular milk. But why does the container have a label on top, boldly demanding that I shake it well before pouring? What kind of residue am I stirring up anyway?

I put the milk next to my old Polish carving of a guy who seems to be contemplating life’s imponderables - like milk containers with odd labels. 

Musings on a Saturday are exquisite, because you know that you still have a Sunday before you, where you can vow to yourself that you’ll make up for the slow pace of the previous day.

No, not a political blog, a politico blog

I just found (via Fistful of Euros) the newly established blog of the Vice President of the European Commission (Margot Wallstrom). You have to wonder how much leeway she’ll give herself, given her high status in European politics.

Leafing through the catalogue of our politicians at home, I’m tempted to speculate who will be the first here, in the States, to put up a blog? Condoleezza Rice? Not really, unless it’s anonymous. Bush? Never. Cheney? Maybe a group blog with a corporate angle. Bill Clinton, for sure! Don’t you just see him having a daily blog frolic, with posts on everything from the twenty books he is reading to the latest food temptation, or the conversation he had at the gas pump? And he wont use a pseudonym either. He’ll want the world to know.

Reassuring news: I am nothing

It’s Saturday, it’s early, I feel I should do something other than plunge immediately into work. Looking in on littleprofessor, I found a link to yet another Net quiz, this one testing your nerdiness. Now, I know I am not a real nerd. These days, you have to reach some levels of technological competence to be considered an Elite-Gold Nerd. I wasn’t even thinking I am a Silver-Status Nerd. In fact, on some level you may even regard me as an anti-nerd.

Still, with forces pulling in all directions, I decided to check out my true nerd status.

The results: it’s low – somewhere around the 25th percentile. But it’s the characterization that bothers me most: I am told that I am a little nerdy, not a whole lot but a little, but that I am also most definitely not hip!

That’s just cruel.