Test Your Reflexes

The Relex Tester:

Test your Reflex Response time! Click on “Start” first, and wait until the background color changes. As soon as it changes, hit “stop!” Be warned. This is more addictive than any drug you can think of. You’ll see what I mean.

Best I could do was 0.261 seconds.

The Stairway To Heaven Suite

Stairway to Heaven, as Schubert wrote it:

Whether or not you agree, its notoriety is assured by the thousands of would-be guitarists who can play the first dozen bars badly: it is to the guitar what “Chopsticks” is to the piano. But what if Jimmy Page & Robert Plant hadn’t written it? What if it had been written for orchestra in the 19th or 20th centuries?


A fellow parent informed me of some great parenting adventure sites. Here are some highlights from them:

  • He Started It! where I found this valuable advice:

    if your cat eats a piece of xmas tinsel, and it is hanging out of their butt, don’t yank it out as though you were starting a lawnmower. and don’t make a lawnmower noise, either.

  • Fussy:

    Here’s a delightful post by woman who lists 100 things she is grateful to have learned from her mom. Naturally, this has inspired me to write a list of things I have taught Jackson [her son].
    1. It’s okay not to bathe for several days in a row. Like, three. Five is pushing it, but if it’s after 10 p.m. and your fingernails are clean and you aren’t developing one of those dirt neck rings, let’s go see what’s on the Cartoon Network.

  • finslippy:

    Given that clearly worded phrases will be ignored while muttered asides will be repeated with stunning clarity, which of the following is your child likely to announce in the presence of a grandparent?
    a) Suck me.
    b) That is such bullshit.
    c) Fuckity fuckity fuck.
    d) I love Grandma. Grandma the booze hound.

  • Laid-off Dad:

    Robert [his son] and I will be getting ready to go out and meet Mama, for example, and the boy will strip himself and run around wailing for Mama, unaware that his little nudie meltdown is delaying what he so dearly desires. He attempts to curry favor from our cat by trying to yank its tail off. He likes to help us clean by slapping dust bunnies around the house with the dustbroom.

I’m going to try to add more posts about parenting, especially since our second child is due in November. Incidently, we still haven’t decided on a name for the kid.

(Thanks, Mumsie)

Hello, My Name Is Jody, And I’m An Introvert

Caring for Your Introvert:

…extroverts have no idea of the torment they put us through. Sometimes, as we gasp for air amid the fog of their 98-percent-content-free talk, we wonder if extroverts even bother to listen to themselves. Still, we endure stoically, because the etiquette books — written, no doubt, by extroverts — regard declining to banter as rude and gaps in conversation as awkward. We can only dream that someday, when our condition is more widely understood, when perhaps an Introverts’ Rights movement has blossomed and borne fruit, it will not be impolite to say “I’m an introvert. You are a wonderful person and I like you. But now please shush.”