roadrunnertwice: Ray pulling his head off. Dialogue: "DO YOU WANT SOME FRITTATA?" (Achewood.Ray - DO YOU WANT SOME FRITTATA)
So what have we learned tonight? Let's count it off:

  • Don't start fires in the kitchen. Bad scene.
  • If you finish one pie and decide to use the broiler to bring the stone back up to baking temp in a hurry, you will likely end up with more baking stones than you started with.
  • The hideous algebra I did for Robert several weeks ago actually worked! Well, he told me so afterwards anyway, but it's nice to have independent verification. Just for the record:
    • 100% flour
    • 40% poolish or wet sourdough starter
    • 2.2% salt
    • 0.49% instant yeast or 0.64% active dry yeast
    • 5% oil
    • 62.8% water
    I don't quite have Time Control on this yet, but I did a 2 hour bulk ferment and a 1-to-1.25 hour proof (throwing everything not in pie one in the fridge after about 30 or 40 minutes), and it seemed to result in pizza dough. DO make sure you do a 20m autolyse period before mixing it in earnest.
  • Predict the future: put the smoke detector in the fridge before you even start pre-heating.
  • Dry mozzarella log seems to work a bit better than the wet-type balls. Apizza Scholllllls uses wet and it's unbelievably wonderful, but they also have more skillllllls than me, so they can get away with making things harder on themselves.
  • SPEED SPEED SPEED. Form the dough on rock or linoleum, transfer it to lightly floured wood, and GET THAT CRAP ON THERE AS FAST AS YOU POSSIBLY CAN. I am not kidding about this, lollygagging means inevitable catastrophe, a dodgy pie, and probably a small fire.
  • Get a real peel spatula, asshole. Jegus, what were you even thinking.
  • Racks works! Keeps the middle from getting soggy.

In conclusion: PIZZA NIGHT, DRACULA!

Pizza pie
roadrunnertwice: Dialogue: Madblood: "Disengage the H-bombs?" Helen: "YES, disengage the bombs!" (Narbonic.Madblood - Disengage the bombs)
My motorbike key is missing.

I have a spare, but man. So annoying.

I'm pretty sure I lost it either yesterday or the day before, and since I didn't go a whole bunch of places over the weekend, I went ahead and went out searching for it. Figured it would have fallen out of my pocket by the bike racks at either the Alberta Co-op, the Savoy, or East Burn, so I went ahead and went over the ground outside each place—no dice. I also talked with folk at the Alberta and the Savoy, and it doesn't sound like anyone turned it in, so now I just need to check with someone at East Burn once they open back up (they were closed for Easter), and then I can abandon all hope and figure out how to get this spare duplicated. -_- SIGH.

The other possibility is that it's somewhere here at the house, in which case it'll turn up when I least expect it. (And the other OTHER possibility is that I dropped it outside the building and someone grabbed it. That's the really worrying one, because it means a chance of some miscreant figuring out which bide it goes to. I am choosing not to think very hard about this possibility.)
roadrunnertwice: Vesta Tilley, Victorian drag king (Ryoga is lost.)

I'm borrowing Schwern's computer to run my ghostly user account on. Haven't accomplished much beyond using Muninn to imperfectly re-sync Arthur with Huginn, which took way longer than it should have. (Parenthesis one: The jokey names for these hard drives were intended as some much-needed entertainment for when I inevitably had to deal with some hardware disaster, and are doing their job admirably.) (Parenthesis two: Time Machine is wonderful and fast for backing up, but it's kind of shitty and slow for restoring, and if you need to something even the least bit unusual with it, e.g. change the physical disk that its backup timeline is associated with much less the machine that all of this is plugged into, it's downright nightmarish.)

What I actually need to be doing is résumé stuff. Instead, I appear to be writing journal entries.


Now that I have Learnt My Lesson in re: drinks on desks, I could use a small bedstand or something to store liquids on. My current glass of water is living on the floor.


Something I realized during this most recent visit home is that my brother Chris (LJ's own, albeit sporadic and in an off-cycle, [livejournal.com profile] itastelikelove) is—no, really—Cyberpunk. Not in the mirrorshades and chip implants sense, but in the The Street Finds Its Own Uses sense. He's a technically sophisticated user who has adopted, as his aesthetic and ethos, the ideal that every piece of technology ought to be run as far into the ground as it will run, and then vigorously pushed the rest of the way. (Into the ground.) The wristwatch he used during college was held together with—I am speaking literally here—orthodontic wire and unidentifiable clamps and tourniquets and shit, and was legitimately offputting to behold. He's gotten about $600 worth of use out of a $125 laptop (which I obtained for him with a Craigslist ad that read something like "Your shitty laptop wants to die a glorious death in Costa Rica," so we're already talking about something that had half a leg to stand on, here).

This contrasts somewhat with my approach. What kills me about the way I blew up my beloved MacBook is that, other than spilling water in it just now, I've pretty much babied the thing. Most everyone I know treats their machines with a sort of good-natured roughness, and they're fine, but prissy ol' me is the one who actually fucks his device up in a heavy-duty sort of way. Makes me wonder about... not so much the point of having nice things, but the point of acting like said things are nice.

Especially since I only spilled shit on it in the first place because I was sleepily reaching for the Firewire plug so's to save wear and tear on the external HD by unplugging it for the night!


Odd thing I noticed: with no job and a broken computer, the days are actually really long. There is all kinds of space up in these, despite the fact that my body seems to be demanding 9+ hours of sleep lately (in penance for what, I couldn't tell you). Even having a beer or two doesn't seem to make evenings speed up the way they normally would. Apparently an internet-connected computer is a distraction engine that eats days: WHO KNEW. Anyway, it's making me think uncomfortable but very interesting thoughts about how one makes space for things in one's life.


I think my longhand is improving. Gonna get one of those Pilot pens Brenna recommended.

Help?

Aug. 22nd, 2009 03:39 pm
roadrunnertwice: Vesta Tilley, Victorian drag king (Akira - Unsteady Romantic)
Hi, everyone. I need to borrow an Intel Mac; I think (though I'm not positive) that any variety will work.

Short version is that I destroyed my MacBook. It's my fault twice or three times over (details eventually, once the *headdesk* subsides), and I feel pretty crappy about it all. Near as I can tell at this moment, it's totalled, in that I could get a refurb machine for barely more than the repairs would cost. Even if that turns out to be mistaken (and Schwern or someone he knows may well be able to help, who knows), it's going to take lots of time and/or money to fix it, and wouldn't you know it, I'm a little short on both just now.

However, my data is fine. Better than fine: I have a days-old bootable clone of my hard disk, and can use it to run a ghost of my computer on (I think) any Intel Mac.

And so yeah, hat in hand time. If any of my Portland friends has an Intel Mac they can spare for a while, I am in desperate temporary need. This wouldn't entail making any changes to your HD (and in fact, will probably work fine even if the machine doesn't have one). I just need my computer (or its ghost) back for a few weeks while I deal with the recent implosion of the REST of my life. I'll be your dipping sauce bitch!
Annotated Pilgrim: Dipping Sauce Bitch
(from Scott Pilgrim vol. 3, I think)


Yours,
N
roadrunnertwice: Vesta Tilley, Victorian drag king (Corvid liasons)
Luminiferous Crow back on-side. Everything working fine so far. Superdrive making robust noises rather than sickly ones.

Not gonna install Leopard yet, upon further thought. Have some web work yet to do, and don't want Apache 2 to screw over my working Gallery 2 install until I'm at a good stop spot. Speaking of which—
roadrunnertwice: Vesta Tilley, Victorian drag king (THE SHITBOX WENT TITS UP)
Update: Nope! Nope, nope, nope. Not at all. Know why I can't install Leopard? Because my optical drive is busted! It makes dying sounds, and doesn't mount media. Boo! Applecare has another box on the way to me. I am irritated. GEEZ.

I did learn something, though. If your drive isn't recognizing a disc and won't eject it when you hit the eject button, you can force an eject by going to the terminal and using the command drutil tray eject. Totally useful for getting that CD back before sending the box to the repair shop!

It occurs to me that, along with the hangover that kept me down until 10pm yesterday, this isn't the greatest collection of New Year's omens. >_>

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