Sunnis vs. Shias

Do you remember that news piece about how many of top U.S. politicians don't know the difference between Shia and Sunni muslims? Well, do you know the difference? I'm here to tell you. Sit back and let me inform you of this key information I learned from someone who should know - a muslim from a middle eastern country. So, the difference is... dum dum dum... Shia's are the WEIRD muslims. That's right. According to my unbiased source, Sunnis are the nice, run-of-the-mill church-goers, while Shias are those strange radicals down the road that you try to avoid. And there you have it.

Playing with the slow shutter speed...

...of my crappy point and shoot camera.

Always lose your pens? Have insomnia?

Create the amazing weighted pen holder/anti-pen-theft device!

The post-mormon abyss

As a post-mormon, I no longer have the ultimate answer to life, the universe, and everything. This loss of belief has forced me to contemplate the rather frightening idea of the void, the abyss, the meaninglessness. Yet fear no longer. The abyss has been found! In Guatemala, no less.

Old Habits Die Hard

I like to mock those who still use backslashes before quotes so browsers don't pick it up as html (like \"so\"), yet I can't stop naming my files using an underscore in_place_of_a_space even though my sources assure me it is fine in these modern times. By the way, why do I get the feeling that \'navel\' is going to be my most common post keyword?

Nice Dutchies

Perhaps I oughta provide counterexamples to my bad experiences so people (people? where?) don't get the wrong idea. Amsterdam, as you can imagine, is an awesome place. Trams running under historic archways; bicyclists, pedestrians, and motorists flowing (mostly) peacefully together; modern buses that run on natural gas stopping for ancient bridges lifted by chains. It all comes together in layers upon layers to form a modern, yet quaint little city. But damn, that bureaucracy. Oh yeah, but we're doing counterexamples today. Just as the annoyances are small things that pile up, so be the sweet trifles that make it all better.

One of these sweet trifles (not truffles) happened near my birthday, when I had only recently moved here and knew hardly anyone. Thus, the Happy B-day postcard dropped mysteriously in my mailslot came as a great surprise. I still don't know who put it there, even though I've read enough Agatha Christie that I should be able to figure out such a simple mystery. The card was stylish, but not edgy or touristy, and the handwritting appeared feminine, which narrows it down to about 0 suspects.

Another, more random occurence happened in nearby Utrecht, where I was riding the bus to attend a one-time event. Prices for public transportation in the Netherlands are based on zones. So in travelling to an unknown place, I usually just tell the driver which stop I'm getting off and they will inform me how many zones it is.* As the bus lurches through town, the stops fly by, with no signs or announcements to mark their place on my map. Twenty minutes go by, and I'm in la-la land, admiring the scenery, when the driver announces, in English, that the current stop is Sollanolaan or whatever, which is mine. Oops. So I wave to the driver and run off to my destination. What a nice guy.

*Unless I'm feeling evil and poor, when I just say 1 zone even if I'm going across town. It works best heading away from the center during rush hours.

Stoopid Bureacracy for Today

I didn't mean for my first post to be so bad, but I'm annoyed. Stoopid bureaucracy. Whose bright idea was it to make this important application into a PHP form on the website? Sure, it sounds so efficient and trouble-free. Unless, of course, someone has an error with the form, and after searching for half an hour for a real-life human email address for help, recipient of said email replies that the problem is all in the asking person's head. After further interaction, they they continue to claim that the problem I have is due to user error and I need to fix my address in the form. TO FIX MY ADDRESS? Dude, its my ADDRESS. I can't fix my address short of moving. Bastards.

Then I call the immigration people, who's slowness is the reason my address doesn't work for the application. I want to change my appointment to be a little sooner than a month away, so I can do little things like apply for important life-changing things that won't accept my address. After transferring me to three different departments, someone gleefully informs me that I can't change my appointment. I ask if there is any possible way, please, I will do anything! I will stop eating chocolate for you! No, it is set in stone. Even if I already had an appointment with God at the same time, they will not change the it. I hereby call you to repentance, Mr. Immigration Man.

The third annoyance is really just a little bit ridiculous. After calling the evil immigration trolls, off I go to the library, where I have found a practice piano, interestingly enough, that anyone can sign up for. I always carry my music in my small backpack -- one that's the size of a regular purse. As I walk in, I pause at the message boards to peruse the advertisements. This was my mistake. As I start to walk upstairs, the security guard runs up and tells me something like 'mevrouw, u kunt dragen de tos boven.'* I pause to watch another lady pass me with her purse of the same size. So I return and place my bag in the lockers. As I head back to the stairs, I see the security guard apprehending another miscreant daring to head upwards with a backpack. So we have three examples. Me with a backpack, the lady with the purse, and the guy with a backpack. The only data point we lack is male with purse. Perhaps if I stick flowers and tassels on my little backpack, it will look girly enough to pass for a purse. I have seen that it is not the size of the bag, but the style that the guards dislike. I've never seen them apprehend a purse-carrier. Since purses are generally carried by women, while backpacks are carried by both genders, is this an instance of reverse discrimination?

*I don't know correct Dutch grammer, but it means: "You can't carry your bag upstairs."