Happy happy fun times! (Or not.)

This weekend, I confirmed I own the most boring game in the world. I vaguely recalled it being boring -- I mean, I'd only played it once in the three and a half years I'd owned it -- but I thought I'd give it a second chance. Every game deserves a second chance, right? (Well, except Russian Roulette. That doesn't count.)

"Want to play a quick game of Risky Business?" I asked Paul Sunday. Johanna has strep, so our club didn't meet this week. I figured I'd reacquaint myself with Risky Business before they came over next so I could add it to the pile of games we're going to play. Paul reluctantly agreed he'd play one game with me -- but only one -- so I pulled out the game, dusted off the cover, and we were off to the races.

For those of you who aren't blessed with a copy of Risky Business, let me give you a brief overview of how it works. You start out with nothing and your goal is to become enormously wealthy and influential. Three rings stand between your sorry butt and the likes of Bill Gates and Warren Buffet.

1. In the inner ring, you must hire four managers. You roll a special die to see whether your managers are high-quality or crappy. You also must secure funding for your business and complete a three-part business plan. Now, how many games can boast that they require a business plan before you go any further?
2. In the middle ring, you must develop four products (creatively named Products A, B, C and D). You can spend $5 million to develop a lousy product, $10 million for an okay product, or $15 million for a gold-standard product. You may patent these products for an additional $5 million. If your products are not patented, another player may steal them from you. You may also team up with another player by merging your company with his. You must make $15 million in profits before you can leave this ring, and you may have to re-evaluate your managers (e.g. your awesome marketing guy might suddenly turn crappy).
3. In the outer ring, you buy customers to whom you sell your products. For a mere $5 million, corporations such as Royal Caribbean, Frito Lay -- even the U.S. Postal Service -- can become proud users of your Products A, B, C and D.
   
4. At some point, all this high-falutin' fun must come to an end, and you've got two ways to win. One, you can buy out all your competitors. Two, you can get eight customers, raise $50 million, and take your company public via an initial public offering, or IPO. That's it. That's the end. That's the game.
   

It's my own fault that I ended up with the most boring game in the world. I bought it during my brief stint at Barnes & Noble after college. The game retailed at $34.95, and we were left with a ton of extra copies after Christmas, so they were marked down 25%. Then 50%. Then 75%. And when they didn't sell at that low-low-low price, the boss marked them down to $1, and I bought a copy. (Would you believe they didn't sell all the games, even marked down to $1?)

And I missed another crucial warning sign: The game is closely tied to Junior Achievement and is endorsed by 23 corporations. It's the only game that fifth-graders are playing during social studies class and business executives are playing between morale-building ropes courses.

This weekend, I am so subjecting Johanna and Matt to a game of Risky Business. I'm sure they've done something that deserves so harsh a punishment.

Actual AIM Conversation

bikkiebke (4:37:18 PM): which kitty are you?
LemonKitty (4:37:38 PM): huh?
bikkiebke (4:37:49 PM): howz it goin'
bikkiebke (4:38:00 PM): u uh gangsta?
LemonKitty (4:38:11 PM): i'm editing...
bikkiebke (4:38:19 PM): what
bikkiebke (4:38:36 PM): editing what
LemonKitty (4:38:41 PM): a story
bikkiebke (4:38:49 PM): about niggers?
LemonKitty (4:39:01 PM): ... no, about voters
bikkiebke (4:39:12 PM): oh ya
bikkiebke (4:39:14 PM): wrong person

Ding ding ding. The princess is in another castle, dude.

A Vote for Mongo is... well...

Mongo is back! And he's on MySpace! And he's running for Senate (again)! Apparently, somebody saw him riding his scooter around Memphis, and he had a colander bungeed to his head as a helmet.

The man is a genius. He wears cool glasses. And it's about time he resurfaced, because the city's been too quiet for far too long.
(Click on the link. You'll understand.)

At least it saves trees

Visa's got a monopoly on the market, literally -- the company has partnered with Parker Brothers to replace Monopoly money with a credit card of sorts. Laaaame.

ArsTechnica has some interesting thoughts: "The new card, which resembles a debit card, is inserted into a small plastic reader/writer that can display and update the balance on the card. Traditional money is gone altogether, though purists can still purchase the original version." (Click here for the ArsT write-up.)

Put a notch on the bedpost of progress.

Ten Favorite Words

Mom and Dad treated Paul and me to dinner tonight at Texas de Brazil (a.k.a. the meat palace). Mmm! Then Paul went back to the office with me and sat on the floor for an hour while I finished up some stuff. Oh, and I brought a couple of things home too, but I'll be darned if I'm going to stay up past my bedtime just to get ahead.

Frankly, Smacky summed all that up really well. Really really well. (Finally commented, but I'm not sure it's what I really wanted to say.) I'll save all that thinking for later. :)

Haven't done Ten for Tuesday in a while, and this is a fun one:

Ten Favorite Words
1. Perchance
2. Catharsis
3. Cajones
4. Blithe
5. Sentience
6. No.
7. Fnord
8. Signal:Noise (does that count as one? It should...)
9. Shenanigans
10. Editrix

Ooh, I've got a Risk game Friday (and Saturday?) night, but I've never played before. Tips??

Telly's club

Ugh. 7:25 p.m., and I'm on my way out the office door. The Telly Savalas (a.k.a. Kojak ... rest in peace) videos were so giggle-worthy that I thought I'd spoon-feed them to you. (Thanks, Smack!) Not as funny as WWJDC, but close.



And the funnier one...


P.S. I was given a choice between four days in December in San Diego (half price) or eight days in October in Destin (free, except for meals). I chose Destin. Was that a mistake??
P.P.S. Of course I'm taking my Players Club card with me. And I'm wearing this shirt, too. Duh!

She's so COOL!

Johanna and Matt came over last night for pizza and low-stakes poker. We were each in for $8, and Matt -- who played only three hands -- bankrupted the rest of us in less than 20 minutes. Feeling a little bruised by my quick loss, I suggested we move on to other games:

First up was Imaginiff. "Imagine if Johanna were a power source. Which would she be? 1. Wind; 2. Solar; 3. Steam; 4. 9-volt battery; 5. Coal; 6. Nuclear." (Most popular answer: 9-volt battery. My answer: Wind.)

Next was the Game of Life. Paul was a gay doctor with three boys who turned in his stethoscope to become a superstar. Johanna was an artist-turned-travel agent who won a dance contest and the Pulitzer Prize. I was a police officer with a six-figure salary who made $100,000 building a better mousetrap ... twice. Matt was a drunk accountant who was elected president and was paid $50,000 to swim the English Channel. The game was so realistic, it was downright eerie.

But the best game of the night was Trivial Pursuit '90s edition. Favorite question: "In 1997, what credit card was packaged with Cool Shoppin' Barbie?"

Correct answer: Mastercard. Paul's answer: Diners Club.

Diners Club? Diners Club?

Like omigod! When I grow up I wanna be just like Barbie, flashing my DC all over town!! She's so hot! She's so trendy! She's super-hip among the hip replacement crowd! (Hey, apparently Jesus carries it, too.) Edit: Link appended to original column.

Man, I bet Paul would kick butt at the Diners Club Game. Maybe we'll play it next week.

Mansion, schmansion

Last weekend heralded the second meeting of the Saturday Night Card Club, a fancy name for four college pals huddled into a booth at a 24-hour restaurant, drinking watered-down coffee and engaging in five hours of friendly competition.

Spades was the game of choice Saturday, which meant that hours before our rendezvous, I was racing to recall the rules. Fortunately, Matt was my partner, and he's so well-versed in Spades that I thought we really stood a chance. "Don't you remember Spades? Didn't you play this with us in college?" Johanna asked me. I told her yes, I remembered, but didn't mention that Matt was almost always my partner and almost always carried the game for both of us. But Saturday was different: A power play by Paul and Johanna, along with a bungle on my part, put them ahead right at the end of the game. Then they gloated. And gloated. And gloated.

At some point in the conversation -- some time between hours 2 and 3, the topic of Casa Simone became the topic of discussion. "Don't you live in, like, a mansion?" Johanna asked, eliciting a laugh and a raised eyebrow. A mutual friend, who'd dropped off a package at my house last year, later told Johanna I had the biggest house on the street with a five-car garage and a lake in the back. Oh, and that the house had been a wedding gift from my parents.

Let's review: It wasn't a wedding gift -- they were still living here when we got married. We have a two-car garage and no lake (although there's a hole in the back yard with some fish in it). And I'm fairly certain my house is not the biggest on the street. In fact, the description of our house was so wrong that my first thought was my friend had been at the wrong place. But she did indeed drop off a package here, leaving only one explanation: She must be blind.

But that didn't stop the ribbing, and after a few hours, Johanna and Matt proposed a way for them to find out for themselves: They'd play cards at Casa Simone Saturday. I told them they'd be disappointed -- I'm proud of it, but it's no mansion. Either way, Paul and I have a lot to clean between now and Saturday, and I also must figure out what to cook, etc. Thrill.

I'm so glad Johanna suggested we do this. It's been like turning back the clock to a time when we were young(er) and stupid(er) and had enough time to play cards at work.

P.S. Today is anniversary number four, so chances are Paul and I will head out to celebrate (or stay in to celebrate?) instead of cleaning the house tonight. Hasta mañana!

Hot, hot, hot

Think you could fry an egg out there? It begs the question whether one
could cook a whole meal with only a sidewalk and a spatula. The floor is
open for debate.
--katesink

Elusive rest

Went to bed an hour later than usual. Woke up at 4:45 a.m., so nauseated I wasn't sure I could make it to the bathroom on time. After that, I tried to go to sleep on the couch until the kitten thought I'd make a good jungle gym. Now it's just before 6 a.m., I'm tired, and the day hasn't even started yet.

I'm going to eat a blueberry muffin. See you guys later.

What I'm trying to say is... wait, no, I mean...

Tonight, I cooked zuppa Tuscana with gnocchi. Tomorrow, I attend a seminar on reading financial statements, then try to slam together the last remaining data on Q2 mortgage activity. I live such a thrilling life, huh?

All month, I look forward to SQL. I wait for it and plan for it and Yay Numbers! But it starts to wear me down (try thinking solely with the other half of your brain for a while), and I begin to wonder if anybody notices or cares about any of it. I start second-guessing why I bother looking forward to it at all. And then, before it's over, I'm wishing it wouldn't end and anticipating doing it again. It's the hardest -- and most enjoyable -- part of my job. Not sure anyone likes having 25 spreadsheets shoved their way ... but I sure like putting them together.

But I'm not exaggerating when I say it really fries my brain. Today, I was trying to say rhetorical question, but all I could think of was reciprocal. And a downturn in filings became a breakout in filings, which doesn't even make sense, but was the best I could come up with at the time.

Somebody make me feel better by telling me their stupid vocabulary brain farts, please.

Render unto Caesar...

WHAT I DID ON MY SUMMER VACATION:

Kate: Edited, blogged, played Katamari, formed a weekly UNO tournament, hung out with my cats.

Paul: Drank water, studied water, wrote a 350-page report on water, worked water-filled 80-hour weeks.

FF: Studied in Rome, fostered jealousy among friends who don't get a three-month summer vacation, took lots of photos.

Briefly talked to Abs this morning. Sounds like she's having a good time in Rome, soaking up lots of smartiness and all. I would highly recommend checking out her photo album while she's gone. She told me she's a couple days behind on uploading photos. She went to the necropolis Tuesday and will be traveling to Florence this Saturday.

Check out the Day 1 album for her photos of the Pope, along with some great shots in and around the Borghese Gardens -- some beautiful stuff ... even if you're not crazy about history. I really dig the fountain in the photo above. If you don't know what caryatids are, you can read this Wiki article for information.

Maaan, I want to be in Rome! I am so living vicariously.

Mind over (gray?) matter

For a couple of days every month, plus one full week every quarter, I take off my editing cap and become a number-cruncher. But between the SQL and the spreadsheets and the problem-solving ... well, my brain feels like mush at the end of the day. And it's only Tuesday morning! :-)

No, I'm kidding. It is hard work, but it's hard work I love to do. And I enjoy the analysis. In fact, I'm schedule to attend a seminar on deciphering corporate financial statements -- yet another way to flex the non-wordy half of my brain.

Speaking of brain, Paul and I bought Big Brain Academy, one of the $20 games in Nintendo's Touch Generations line. It's like a more advanced version of Brain Age, the "train your brain" adult game that's been all over the news lately. The game measures your smarts in grams -- the heavier your brain, the smarter you are. My brain is ~1275 grams, particularly strong in computation and memorization and rather weak in identification. Overall, I received a B+ with my brain categorized as "museum curator." Paul's brain was ~950g, strong in computation and analysis and weak in thinking (ha ha). He got a C and was "investor."

Weak in thinking. I'm not going to let him live that down.

Have you ever had this verbal exchange with your boss?

This commercial was so eyebrow-raising that I had to pause the TiVo, rewind, and transcribe the whole thing. It loses something in the translation, but come on... really...

Angry Boss (who yells through the whole commercial): What is it, Bob?!

Clueless Bob: You can take this job...

Angry Boss: ...Yeah, yeah, yeah, you take this job and shove it, blah blah blah. So you're quitting, huh?

Clueless Bob: Yep, I'm gonna be my own boss!

Angry Boss: You're gonna be your own boss. What do you know about being your own boss, Mr. Entrepreneur?

Clueless Bob: Uhhh...

Angry Boss: Gonna buy a business? Start from scratch? How about start-up money? Do you even know where to get start-up money?

Clueless Bob: Uh, my brother...

Angry Boss: Got a plan? A program? A mentor, Bob? You can't be your own boss without them!

Clueless Bob: I can't?

Angry Boss: You're pathetic. You need Entrepreneur of the Year Bruce A. Berman's book and CD. It's called "I Got Here, You Can Too." Want to be rich, Bob?

Clueless Bob: That's the idea!

Angry Boss: Then you gotta buy his book and CD! It shows exactly how Burman made a fortune being his own boss and you can too. Wanna start making money now, Bob?

Clueless Bob: Uh-huh! Suuuure!

Bruce A. Berman: Thanks, guys. I'm Bruce A. Berman. If you want to make five, 10, even $15,000 a month right now from the comfort of your own home, then you don't have to buy my book. I'll give you a free copy of my book and my "Making Money" CD. Together, they're over $100 value. This limited time offer is available only on my website below. (I assume random URLs are posted based on the TV market and/or demographic.) So go to my website now.

Here's the funny part. I went to his site. (Don't worry -- I'm going to run Ad-Aware and Spybot posthaste.) The Terms of Use, in part, reads:

How it works, "I am so confident that you will become a loyal user of my other products that I am giving you my best selling book, "I GOT HERE. YOU CAN TOO!®" my "Making Money" CD and my just released eBay® Instant Income CD, all three for FREE. You just help by paying a small refundable shipping and handling fee. ...(snip)... At the end of the 30 days if you decide to keep the rest of the program, do nothing and your credit card will conveniently be billed only one payment of just $99.90. That's an incredible value for these fine products. I have helped thousands of people and businesses achieve their financial goals and I am so convinced that I can help you, I am giving you two of my fine products for free."

Oy oy oy. Sign me up. @_@

Yogi Bear never really did yoga, did he?

Man, I am tired. When I woke up this morning, my first thought was, "Is it Monday already?" When I realized it was favorite-day-of-the-week Thursday, I felt a little better ... but why did I think I'd slept through the entire weekend? Strange.

Little Miss Very-Open-Hips is returning to yoga practice. Hard to justify not going, since the company pays for an outcall yogini to come to the office to teach us at a time we choose. This time around, I've tricked two unsuspecting coworkers (including one who shares a first and last name with a Swedish horse) to attending lessons with yogini Tedrah. Cool, huh?

I've also been sucked into a throw-down, no-holds-barred UNO match with a couple of college friends, Matt and Johanna. That's what we used to do for fun. Oh, and then there was the other copy editor with whom I'd play some killer Scrabble matches. The chance to duke it out with another wordhound over a Scrabble board? Hells yeah -- I'd jump on it faster than you could say "triple word score."

Yoga and UNO. Asanas and Wild Draw Fours. What have I gotten myself into??

Half-full?

Let's review: I have to go back to work today, I didn't sleep well, my allergies are bothering me, it's raining ... and I have to go back to work today. But I have lots of things to be thankful for: I'm happy, I'm healthy, I've got Paul and my family, and I love my job.

However, that doesn't make it any easier to go back to work the day after a holiday. ::sighs::

Scrubba scrubba scrubba

Americans: Happy early Independence Day!
Canucks: Happy late Canada Day!

Back in the day (or so I'm told), children respected their elders, movies weren't cluttered up by all those words, and soap was pure lye. It may have eaten your skin to the bone, but you took it like a man. And if you cried, your behind would be seeing the raw end of a thick belt. Yep, those were the days.

But now, people are stickin' all sorts of fancy things in their "soap," like aloe and vitamins and pretty smells like flowers an' fruit. Spoiled brats, the lot of ya!

... No, I kid. I mean, I like clean hands as much as the next gal. But Softsoap has introduced its "Fabulous Fragrances" line, which seems to cross the line of what soap* is supposed to do.

(*Softsoap is not really soap, but what else can you call it? "Liquid hand wash with gentle surfactants"?)

Anyway, this Fabulous Fragrances line is made up of four scents. The bathroom at work currently is stocked with Morning Mist: Refreshing. Yes, the label actually tells you it's refreshing! Other recent contenders in the office bathroom have been Softsoap's Juicy Melon (also "refreshing"), Vanilla Brown Sugar, and Lavendar & Chamomile (both "relaxing scents").

Now some cynics out there might be quick to pooh-pooh Colgate for cashing in on the billion-dollar aromatherapy crazy. But I think it's very culturally savvy of them to realize some people might be turned off by the smell of regular soap, thus skipping the crucial task of washing their hands and putting everyone around them at risk of terrible diseases!!! (It's really quite alarming.)

So now, if you're having a mid-afternoon nap attack, just head to the sink. One quick whiff of Juicy Melon, and you're guaranteed to be productive late into the evening. And while you're at the sink, you may run into your cubicle-mate, who's frantically sniffing her just-washed hands to reap the full benefit of relaxing Vanilla Brown Sugar.

How supremely progressive we are.