I played around with I Write Like today. Plugging in the first page of my blog connected me to David Foster Wallace; separate blog entries gave me Ray Bradbury (win!), Dan Brown (ew), Stephen King, Margaret Atwood and David Foster Wallace (again).
Here’s how it works.
UPDATE, June 22nd: I wrote a fake short story for a fake newspaper a little while ago that was divided into two chunks by separate writing styles, so I thought I’d play around with those, too. The first chunk (an attempt at writing the most turgid, pretentious text I could) was most similar to Arthur C. Clarke, and the second (an ode to HP Lovecraft) was apparently like Douglas Adams. Put them together, and they’re Daniel Defoe. Why? Bayes, it’s all about Bayes. And his algorithms.
Anyhoo, if an internet tells me I’m like Ray Bradbury, Arthur C. Clarke and Douglas Adams, I’ll take the compliment.
My mehndi is super dark now! I haven’t washed my left hand in about a day and a half. I feel like Bart Simpson after his babysitter spit on his hand, only mine doesn’t have gum and other gross things on it. Any time I have to do something that involves water or ickiness, I take out my trusty latex gloves. Works like a charm.
The greatest test will be in a few minutes, when I have to shave my legs for the wedding tonight. I think I’ll take out the big guns this time: rubber gloves and duct tape.
My mehndi will be the envy of all those who have washed their hands in the last two days.
Kneel before Zod!
We have controller genes in our DNA that tells other genes to make multiples of things without having to code each individual body part individually. It points to the eye gene or the head gene (in aliens only of course) or whatever. A cool byproduct of that is that when you implant a human eye controller gene onto the gene for a fly’s leg, for example, it will grow a fly eye in that spot. This is one way we know that we’re at least distantly related to flies. We have the same controller genes.
This could be a great analogy to controller behaviours. You see, I was just putting my pants on in a morning haze, and my pants this morning had two buttons instead of one. I tend to forget to zip them up because I’m used to doing only two motions when I put jeans on, and this morning I specifically focused on zipping them. But the buttons suffered because of this focus, and I only did one of them up. Apparently I only have space in my jean-application procedure for two moves.
Side note: I was at a Mehndi (henna) party yesterday and my hands are all tricked out now. The dye was orange at first, but now it’s developed into a deep maroon. This is supposed to indicate that my boyfriend loves me very much. (Aw.)
My trip last year to Bulgaria was peppered with Bulgarians who were shocked to hear that I enjoyed visiting their country. They couldn’t believe it! But I honestly loved it, and I would jump at the chance to go back. There’s so much left to see! The Rila Monastery, Plovdiv, the Rhodopes, the Rose Festival, the Black Sea, etc. In Gabrovo there’s a museum called the House of Humour and Satire and I’d really like to see it. And the music! The food! The wine! I’m not much of a drinker, but even I could tell the wine was superb.
I’ve been following a few blogs by ex-pats living in Bulgaria, and I’ve been looking at a few Bulgarian food blogs today and feeling quite nostalgic. I want to go back! But for now, I can be there in spirit by making a Shopska salad for dinner tomorrow. I wonder if my grocer stocks white cheese?