I like love. I like my relationships.

I have no problem with people picking a particular day to give their beloveds flowers, chocolate, screwdrivers, or other gifts to express their love.

I do mind when my blogging sites--that's here and LiveJournal--send me email telling me that they think I <b>must</b> do something for Valentine's Day, or display aggressive "Why don't you have a valentine?" stuff, or even turn everything pink. (I'm not a pink person.)

That the assumptions are that I must have exactly one valentine, and usually that said person must be of the other gender, makes it more annoying. In grade school, they encourage the kids to give cards to lots of people, but grownups are presented an array of "one and only" cards. Again, there's nothing wrong with monogamy, if you want it, but not everyone does. And some people who do would like to get cards for friends, parents, or other relatives, because "I love you" isn't just about romance.

I've got a couple of different projects (depending in part on how I count), but am stopping and distracting myself with this blog instead of either doing my morning stretches or starting on paid work.

It's been a quiet few days, but I'd like to note that heading west through Connecticut on I-95, you can see some fine sunset colors, because the land is flat for long periods. Here at home, I've got the Palisades between me and the setting sun.

If there were prizes for the fifty book challenge, I'd just read lots of old mystery novels: they're fun, and short.

My GP said I need to see a dermatologist. The one I used to go to doesn't take my insurance. So, I poked around and picked one mostly on the basis of geography, made an appointment for tomorrow, and called the GP's office for a referral.

The receptionist said I was supposed to give them a week's notice. I pointed out that nobody had told me that when I was in their office last week. The current status is that she said she'll call me when it's ready, and I can come pick it up.

I would not be astonished to be calling the dermatologist tomorrow and telling them I have to postpone, and will call to reschedule once I have the paperwork.

First measurable snow of the season here. Central Park was reporting 1/4 inch as of 7 a.m. I stuck the ruler on my Swiss army knife into the snow on a park bench up here in Inwood around 9 a.m., and found about 3/4 inch; that's not anything official, but neither is it a surprise that we got more snow here than they did downtown, the gradient tends to be like that (ocean and heat island effects).

I was pleased to be snowed on, a few flakes, for the first time this year (I'd seen snow, just not in this country). Meanwhile, out in Oakland, Jon Carroll is concerned with a freeze <a href="http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/chronicle/archive/2007/01/17/DDGRJN7IJU1.DTL">killing his plants</a>, because in that climate gardeners don't think much about whether their plants are cold-hardy. As he notes, though, the same freeze will kill some of the bugs.

I have a sneaking suspicion that the New Year's tangerines I like are Californian, and thus likely affected by the recent freeze. Best case would be higher prices, worst is we don't get them at all this year. (It's Chinese lunar new year, not Gregorian new year, they wouldn't be around yet anyhow.)

For clementines, I prefer Moroccan or Spanish, but if the California crop vanishes all the prices will go up.

The "sizzling beef chow fun" at Excellent Dumpling isn't actually to my taste: too sweet, and it's got the canned pineapple I don't like. Also, this is the wrong time of year to order anything involving cooking fresh tomatoes (twice this week, but this time I at least have the excuse of not having realized they were in the dish in question).

Well, I'm back.

Back from Montreal, back at the keyboard, not at all sure what 2007 will bring, but hoping a new job goes with new foods.

I'm off dairy at the moment. As I noted a couple of hours ago, I can't have bread and butter: but I can have bread and chocolate.

I got email today, from someone I'd sent a resume to, saying they'd hired someone else for the position.

They hadn't contacted me previously, so I not only wasn't expecting to be hired, it was a pleasant surprise that they told me the job was taken.

(Actual work would be better, of course.)

I can cook.

The NYPD have shot three unarmed men, killing at least one of them (one is in critical condition in a hospital), and the BBC story on the shooting ends with a one-sentence summary of the Amadou Diallo case.

I think my friend left his warm clothes in the Frozen North.

It is still, or again, possible to spin the cube in Astor Place, but we didn't bother. I do have new tie-dyed socks, however (my old ones are pretty faded).

An okay day at the Greenmarket: clam chowder tonight, mackerel tomorrow, and the chicken curry can be lunch or wait a few nights. The pumpkin loaf is Adrian-safe, so I bought an extra to take with us.

Talking to Adrian, I'm realizing I have more easily-summarizable and relevant skills that I can put on a resume. ("Relevant" means that, for example, "cooking rice pilaf" doesn't count.)

Mom says the price of Assam tea is expected to go up, because separatists in Assam are targeting tea plantations.

I'll pay it: I'm very fond of the Golden Assam.

At the level at which I'm buying tea, I suspect that transport from India and various middlemen including the retailer are more of a factor in price than what the tea plantation gets; that could change, of course, if the supply is reduced enough.

It's raining, it's chilly, and my bras that we washed yesterday still feel damp.

We need a new covered frying pan.

We'd bought one, at Target. It went from iffy to, tonight, being obviously The Wrong Object, with horrible smoke from trying to melt butter.

I've neglected my stretches a bit, lately. This is a bad thing: the sore foot starts to hurt, or the shoulder, or both, depending on what I neglected.

I just did the shoulder stretches and strengthening exercises; leg stretches after dinner.

This morning's phone interview is now this afternoon's.

Scraps emailed me about Fred's agency, which reminded me that while they said they'd be looking for work for me, nothing has happened yet.

I am hopeful about tomorrow's phone interview, however.

We encountered a pack of dogs in the park yesterday, which led me to create this image (using the <a href="http://www.stclaire.com/go/industrial_signage/sb2/html">"danger sign builder</a>).

Time to vote. As a friend of mine said, this really is a yellow-dog year: straight Democratic ticket. If there's a Democratic candidate you really can't deal with, vote Green. Vote Socialist Workers. Write in your own name, or George Washington's. Do not vote for the party of torture.

Yes, even a couple of hours on the phone might be useful, if it doesn't become one more in a long stream of recorded messages. (I'm hanging up on them again, including one earlier today for the local judge race.)

I am dithering about applying for  a day's get out the vote work. Pro: useful, and they'll pay me. Con: tiring, a long day probably on my feet.

Roast beets take longer than I thought, but they worked out when I put them back in the oven a while longer. Still, it would have been nice to have all the vegetables at the same time.

I wasn't expecting violets yesterday: wrong time of year. But there one was, and is.

(Yes, they sometimes rebloom after a frost. We haven't had a frost.)

I'm not quite used to standard time yet; I'd been going to say "am getting used to" and then realized I've been up at 6:30 two mornings running.

I can only drink so much tea before the caffeine becomes a problem. Fortunately, we have plenty of apple cider (in the US sense), suited for heating with cinnamon.

We had a lot of rain Friday night and Saturday, and then a lot of wind. This morning, we saw that one of the big old trees in the local park had cracked. The part that broke off brought at least one other tree, and part of others, down with it. It's not clear whether they can save what's left of the tree that broke: I suspect it depends on structural stuff I can't see (the area right around it is roped off for the moment), as well as stuff tree surgeons know and I don't.

And when it comes down in sheets and buckets overnight, at high tide we get a fine duck pond on the edge of the soccer field. The ducks say it's fine.

The memorial for Mike Ford is tomorrow.

When I read LiveJournal, I don't always notice what journal I'm looking at.

I just saw an entry that started "I was involved with Mike for a year and a half." I automatically thought this was part of the sharing of memories of Mike that people have been doing.

No, a completely different (and, from what she's said thus far, less compassionate) Mike, in the life of someone who may not even have known Mike Ford. (It doesn't quite feel right to say "our Mike.")

That happens with almost any name: there are more namespace collisions if it's something like Mike, and their more startling if it's something like Velma.

Asking friends often helps.

I should probably have some. Options include looking for one of those machines that copy centers have, or used to; paying a local printer; using my own printer and a Word template; and Vistaprint.

I'm not even sure how to define the variables.

I've been using unwanted CDs as coasters for a while: first AOL CDs, then ones where something went wrong while we were burning either a Linux distribution or a backup.

My newest coaster is a DVD: yes, I got an unwanted freebie DVD in the mail today.

Saturday's flounder was badly off by the time we were ready to cook. In past months, flounder has kept this long (we get all our fish from the same place, these days). So, we don't know if the fridge isn't quite cold enough; flounder keeps better in summer than autumn; or the fisherfolk we buy from are either keeping it longer before selling it, or being careless about refrigeration.

The second seems unlikely. We might be able to test the first. And we'd meant to have the fish yesterday, but I wasn't hungry.

Vin Scelsa is playing John Lennon's "Give Me Some Truth," having explained that he's been doing this every show for the past year or more. Maybe it helps a little to keep our spirits up, in these dark times.

I just commented to Andy that the odd downstairs neighbor "uses the longest half minutes in North America," because he always asks on the phone whether Andy has half a minute, and never wants less than five, often ten or 30. And then it occurred to me to <em>hope</em> that nobody else is putting up with requests/demands for half minutes that last longer than that.