Entries from February 2009 ↓

This afternoon, I discovered a very small nick on the top cover of my laptop. This is most likely because I cart it around from meeting to meeting, in the office and out at restaurants, and I lock it up under a pile of notebooks whenever I leave it at my desk.

While I appreciate the sleek shiny dolphin-like appearance of my naked laptop, I decided to get it a nice cover to prevent wear and tear. I was all set to get the Incase cover when Jon reminded me to check reviews.

After reading some negative reviews (which I won’t post, because I haven’t personally tried this case, so I don’t know how accurate they are), I decided to keep shopping.

Speck was my next choice. I found three positive reviews at Dennis.ca, testfreaks and macnn.com.

Speck’s price was 50% off $50, which was exciting. Having to pay shipping was sad (amazon has spoiled me) but on a whim, I did a quick Google search for coupon codes and found two valid codes on retailmenot. The codes worked together on the Speck site, knocking off about $11. Good deal, yes? (Or, an evil consumer plot to make me THINK it was a good deal?)

When I actually receive this case and try it out, I’ll follow up with a review either praising or trashing it. I’m excited about the 74 vents in the bottom and the fact that it is a pretty aqua color.

If it keeps my laptop from getting dings and scratches, I’ll be happy. If it causes my laptop to overheat or prevents it from opening more than 90 degrees, I will set the case on fire and video tape it for your amusement. So you see, it’s really a win-win situation here.

When you buy something online, do you bother to search for coupon codes? What sexy money-saving sites do you frequent?

Image credit: speck case

Once I have completely dominated the world, Sarah will have an international holiday named after her.

This is because I can be bought with excellent baked goods.

Being greeted with a cupcake in the morning is a wonderful thing. Being told you should have TWO cupcakes (one for you and one for your baby) is even better. If the cupcakes have delicious frosting and teeny rainbow surprises inside, it is cause for sheer joy.

Thank you, Sarah. You win at life.

Cupcakes will be distributed on Sarah Wins at Life Day. People with babies get to have two. * Please note, babies must still be inside the womb. Babies in the stomach or outside of the womb do not qualify for a second cupcake.

Guest post graciously contributed by Jon Heller.

I’ll never forget the day when I stepped in to a Panera for the first time. Actually, that’s a lie. But it seemed like a grand way to start a post like this so I thought, hey, why not.

So I don’t remember the day Panera opened in my hometown of Shaker Heights, Ohio, but I remember countless trips there as a teenager. It was, until recently, one of my absolute favorite take-out places, for two reasons: First, it offers healthy options, which is something rare when it comes to take-out food.

Now don’t get me wrong – I realize that not everything at Panera is healthy. In fact, I nearly shunned the place permanently when I found out my favorite sandwich, the Sierra Turkey, has more fat and calories than two Big Mac’s.

I felt hurt. As if Panera, with it’s “Ooh look as us we’re so fresh and healthy!” demeanor, was actually loading their innocent looking turkey sandwiches with … actually, I still have no idea what makes those things so unhealthy.

But I got over it. In fact, I carry around a wallet-sized printout of their nutrition menu. No joke.

There are several other healthy options on the menu, especially if you get only half a sandwich, for which they provide the convenient “you pick two” option. And it’s that other option on the “you pick two” combination that forever indebted me to Panera: Their French Onion Soup (capitalized and bolded because it’s just that amazing).

It is glorious. I have been to France, okay? I had their “French” onion soup, and I’ll tell you, those French have a thing or two to learn about French onion soup from a little bread company based out of Richmond Heights, Missouri.

Leanne, who worked for Panera briefly during one summer (and for which I will always look at her with awe for, being at the heart of such a delicious beast from 9-5), once told me that the soup is shipped in these huge bags from their processing plant.

Now I have to admit, a “bag of soup” is kind of an odd concept – it doesn’t exactly scream freshness – but I sometimes have fantasies of sneaking into the back room and grabbing a bunch of bags of their soup and making a break for it. Like those old black and white bank heist films where the robber is running away with bags of money over his shoulder, except in my case, it would be bags of French onion soup. Sometimes in these fantasies the cops end up shooting me as a I run away, which makes for an awesome scene in which me and my bags of soup are riddled by bullets (in slow motion of course), beef broth spraying all over the place, before I finally fall down to the pavement, cradling the empty bags.

Sorry. Sometimes I get a little carried away thinking about food.

Alas, this has all come to an end, for two main reasons. The first is that, apparently, assembling the various sandwich, soup, and salad combinations for customers has proven too difficult a task for your average worker. I do feel bad for anyone currently stuck in a food service job, but it’s nice when you pay $8 for a sandwich to, you know, get what you paid for.

Unfortunately, this seems to be an unreasonable expectation for my local Panera in Danvers, MA. In fact, I can’t remember the last time they got my order right.

Still, I didn’t want to let this stop me. So a few nights ago, Leanne and I drove ten minutes further to the next closest Panera. I order one of my standards (chicken salad, a surprisingly healthy option, and of course my dear French onion soup), and am surprised to see my soup in a new, smaller container. Thinking this is a mistake (the container is roughly the same size cup you would get ketchup in at a restaurant), I go back to the counter and ask them. It turns out, this is the new container for soup when you order a “you pick two”.

Oh, Panera. You horrible, horrible monsters. You’ve gone and ruined my most precious of all meals. Charge me another dollar, or two, or three, but how could you give me less of something that brings me such happiness, such bliss?

Thus ends a decade long relationship between one man and a restaurant. I’ll miss that warm beef broth. The hints of thyme. The asiago flavored bread crumbs. And my favorite, that wonderful surprise when you lift your spoon up from the bottom of the cup and watch as a spoonful of melted cheese breaks the surface.

A small part of me has died today.

Image credit: McDonalds and Eating Bender

Last night, I dreamed I was trapped in a house with two friends. The house was full of traps we had to avoid and monsters that would kill us. Towards the end, we had to place one of four books face-down on a screen. If we chose the wrong one, the screen would turn into a camera, and all the monsters in the house would know where we were.

After one botched attempt, we chose the right book, and the screen opened, revealing a slide to safety. Unfortunately, after dashing out of the house, my friends got angry and started trying to break off parts of the entryway. They got too close, the door slammed, and they were trapped, killed and eaten.

I ran away, only to discover that the entire world had been taken over by monsters and vampires and it was hopeless.

What is up with that? Why don’t I dream about the collapse of our economy, or about any of the horrific news items on CNN? Contrary to popular belief, I am not actually six. (You tell people you like ponies and unicorns and they label you a first grader for life.)

Does anyone else still have monster dreams? I get attacked by vampires, possessed acquaintances, psycho killers and monsters in my dreams pretty frequently. The other night I had a flying dream, but I spend the whole time trying to fly away from this vengeance-crazed man who kept stabbing at me with razors.

I’m almost never myself in dreams, but no matter who you are, it’s still not pleasant to be chased and mutilated. I read Jane Austen and end up dreaming the zombie version. Do you remember your dreams? What weird things do you dream about?

When it comes to console games, I’m a Viva Pinata kind of girl. I like fluffy bunnies and love-struck squirrels and building houses. If I’m looking for a more hardcore game, I’ll play a driving game and run repeatedly into road dividers.

But I’m just not into shooting games. Or games where you hide in a warehouse and a swarm of zombies comes after you and you have to fend them off with your limited ammunition and defective shotgun.

I can handle key bindings for PC games, and it’s easy to aim with a mouse. You just float over what you’re going after and right click. But X Box controllers are beyond me. It is counter-intuitive to me to walk and aim with the left side of my body and look and shoot with the right.

Needless to say, when Jon suggested that we try out Resident Evil, I refused, until bribed by ice cream.

I got beat down by an angry man with a very large axe and more needles stuck in him than a homicidal acupuncturist’s victim. Apparently in Resident Evil, once you’re out of bullets, you can only kick once or twice. Maybe your legs get tired, I don’t know.

Anyway, after a bunch of zombies ripped our organs out, Jon tactfully suggested that when we are selecting our future career goals, we don’t include Expert Zombie Fighting Team. I am inclined to agree with him.

So, if a zombie-infested apocalypse ever comes, be prepared. Have a bunker ready, and a team of assassins (protection) and farmers (you have to eat something) on hand. Not even world dominators can handle every situation personally. When faced with mobs of undead, it’s okay to delegate.

Image credit: Axeman and Viva Pinata

You are Not A Unique Snowflake Because Your Name is Still Snowflake

Aiden, Braden, Caden and Jayden are 4 of the top 100 Boy’s Names for 2007.

Also on the list are “Kaden, Hayden and Jaden.”

This is nothing new. My graduating class was peppered with Michaels, Johns, Christophers and Matthews.

The question is, do you want to name your child something that guarantees he will be forced to use either a nickname or a last initial to differentiate him from other members of his class for the first 18 years of his life? 22, if he goes to a 4 year college.

Do You Care About the Other Snowflakes?

On the other hand, it’s your child, and you should name it what you want. At least that’s what my Mom told me, until she found out I was researching insect species as potential names. (Eleodes the Darkling Beetle is a perfectly acceptable name.)

We have a few names picked out, one in particular, but we’re not going to share it until birth. This gives us the chance to change our minds last minute, and also to discourage the unavoidable, “There was an Eleodes in my first grade class and he pooped in the cloak room,” or “Oh, I don’t like the name Beetle, it reminds me of termite infestations.”

We’re currently stuck on the middle name. We want to give him a middle name that has some meaning attached to it, since Jon can’t ever remember his, whereas I love mine, because it incorporates my Korean name, which makes me feel special and multinational. (Another plus for Eleodes – he would feel multi-species.)

The Rejects

In any case, we know for sure we can count out anything ending in a “K” as it runs into “Heller” (i.e. Zack Heller becomes Zack Keller”) and would doom him to a life of spelling out his name to government agencies and irritated credit card company representatives.

First names starting with “H” don’t work (case in point, Hubert Heller) because the alliteration just sounds silly with an H, especially if you give it a little emphasis.

Names that can be horribly nicknamed aren’t encouraged. I figure, we name him what we want, then call him by the nickname so he can own it, and also teach him Tae Kwon Do really early in life, so kids are afraid to make fun of him anyway.

The Solution

If we really get stuck, we’ll just name him Sam, after one of our cats. We’re already used to yelling that around the house, and it would be a nice shortcut on all those stupid standardized tests where you fill in the bubbles to spell out your name, because it’s only 3 letters.

Or, we could just really live it up and call him Aiden Braden Kaden Jaden Jayden Heller. We could call him “alphabet” for short.

Image credit: Eleodes

A thoroughly wonderful and charming friend of mine, Paul, introduced me to a new saying, which I am going to share with you.

“The early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.”

Once you get over the macabre mental image (snap!), you realize this makes more sense than shock value. I spent the first 24 years of my life trying to be the early bird, jumping through countless hoops to benefit anyone who asked. Early Bird Heller shows up and gets it done!

I was cleaning out the baby’s room (I’m not nesting per se – Jon bought me a bunch of gigantic Tupperware on the condition I would clean up my art supplies) and I found a hefty binder entitled The Master Plan. This was not a joke. It contained resumes, contact lists, information about management consulting as a career and recommendations, schedules and applications for 5 major business schools.

I created that tome prior to working at my last job, where I learned that being the early bird may SOUND good, but all you actually get is a worm. Far better to hang around a bit and wait for the cheese.

Nowadays, I still jump through hoops, but I like to check and make sure there isn’t a better method of transportation. Also, I like to confirm whatever I’m jumping towards will be beneficial before I make the leap. Taking that extra moment to assess the situation helps to focus my efforts and reduces wasted energy.

In short, being the early bird is okay, but being the second mouse is better. Learning from the mistakes of others so as not to repeat them is never a bad thing. Not that I really enjoy eating on the bodies of my dead comrades, but you know, cheese beats worm or decapitation anytime.

Cartoon credit: Savage Chickens