Coffee heat rising

Cookbooks Sell?

Dark Kindle LoResHot diggety, folks! The 30 Pounds/4 Months cookbook seems to be selling. Either that or I created one heckuva cover for the thing.

Clicks on the Bitly link for the cookbook exceed those for any of the Racy Books by about a zillion to one. Apparently readers are more concerned about their waistlines than their fantasy sex lives. 😀

We may be looking at the difference between plugging a book on Facebook and plugging it on Twitter. Obviously, I can’t very well post glowing reviews of Porn Lite novelettes on FB, so all of the active campaigning for the Roberta Stuart bookoids has gone up on Twitter and Google+. Twitter is a bottomless pothole for that kind of stuff, so one competes against well-funded, savvy advertisers there.

The mention I put on Facebook was passed along by a couple of FB friendoids there. That presumably had the effect of a recommendation. And it presumably reached a lot more people than my feeble FB membership does.

Interesting. It speaks to the idea (one that has gone unarticulated in this space) of creating short eBooks from past FaM content. Y’know, Funny has been in business since Two Thousand and Aught-Seven! That is an OLD PF blog.

Funny isn’t even a personal finance blog anymore. These days it’s more like a lifestyle blog…or just a personal journal. How many times can you say “get a job…live below your means…save extra cash…set up a Roth IRA…use your employer’s 401(k)…get out of debt…start a side hustle…check out these bargains…avoid these scams…try these frugal household hints…make your own laundry soap” without turning blue? Hafta say: after a few years of that one gets mightily tired of it. Plus the field is way too crowded now. I wonder how many PF bloggers are out there today? Has anyone checked Sam‘s Yakezie group‘s membership lately? It must be vast by now.

BTW, did you read this post from Sam on the hidden benefits of trolls? The guy’s a freaking genius.

LOL! I’m too easily distracted today. Must brew another pot of coffee and get down to some actual work.

Breaking Newsoid…Live-Blogging from the scene

Updates from the ’Hood’s Premier Electronics Nerd:

6 AM this morning heard some explosions and flashes of light…..thought at first it was a storm, then thought it was fireworks……then helicopter flew over head for a minute, then power went out for a couple seconds, UPS kicked in and then power came back on….exciting Monday morning! 😎

Update: apparently a transformer blew up on 19 Avenue and Dunlap…… according to RPN HOA Facebook page.


 

So just before dawn cracked this morning, just as the dogs were stirring, beginning to lobby to get down off the bed and into the backyard, the sound of the usual gunfire pealed out across the city.

Or so it seemed.

Then a lot of bangs and booms and cracks and thuds… A little much for the routine drive-by bang-bang. What? Had our pet thugs declared all-out war?

Rolled out of the sack, let the dogs out, and gazed in the direction of the ruckus.

Holy mackerel! It looked like Metrocenter was exploding! Big flashes and bangs and cracklings lit up the sky. A pall of smoke rose above the flaring blasts.

What? Are we celebrating New Year’s at 6 in the morning? Today really isn’t the 31st, is it???

Apparently a cache of New Year’s fireworks went off prematurely. It was quite a display…all of it, unfortunately, on the ground and presumably (even more unfortunately) merrily blowing up someone’s building over there. I heard only one siren running up the I-17 or possibly up Conduit of Blight (the 17 was closed in the wee hours when a motorcycle cop wiped out — amazingly he survived, thank heavens, and the hospital expects him to live).

My guess would be that one of the local sh*theads wondered what would happen if he shot a few automatic rounds into a stash of incendiaries. Now, presumably, he knows. Assuming he’s still with us.

Not a WORD on the local Play-Nooz. Nary a word on Twitter. Nothing on the police department’s Twitter feed. Nothing on the fire department’s Twitter feed. Nothing on the local TV and radio stations’ sites or Twitter feeds. Nothing even on the Twitter feed at Fox 10 News, sadly the only local news website that’s even remotely on the ball. Nothing. Nada. Niente.

It was quite a show. You’d think our corps of pretend journalists here would be thrilled to have something spectacular to kick off yet another slow news day here in beautiful uptown Phoenix. Only one helicopter came by, too late to capture an image of the several fireballs that erupted. He parked over the house for five or ten minutes and then moved on.

Metrocenter, at its inception several decades ago the largest indoor shopping mall in North America, is a ghost mall today. As far as I can tell, the only really viable business there now is a small amusement park that draws people with a roller-coaster ride, a miniature golf course, and an electronic game arcade — the most expensive venue for a kiddie birthday party in the state! 😀 And I believe it’s this successful concern that sponsors the fireworks.

When I first moved into the ’hood, about twenty years ago, Metrocenter used to put on a fireworks display every weekend throughout the summer. As the mall deteriorated, that came to an end — too bad. It was really cool! Now Castles and Coasters (or the mall?) has fireworks on New Year’s and the Fourth of July.

What d’you bet we’ve seen the last of that?

Mailbox Frolics, Continued…

So I seem to have slandered the USPS in claiming they delivered an order of Racy Books to my feckless neighbor, and compounded the sin by accusing feckless neighbor of tossing the things in his fog of mental confusion. Yet another mail disappearance has occurred, and this time the evidence of theft was unmistakable.

Roomie, being an opera singer, wears stage make-up and other types of very high quality emollients and fancifications. She ordered an item from a New York City cosmetics company she likes to do business with. It was supposed to have arrived Christmas Eve.

As you might be guessing, it did not.

When I got home from yesterday evening’s party, I found a ripped-open, empty box and a message from a neighbor:

We found this as is in our front yard last night (12/24) when we returned home around 6:30 p.m. We wanted you to know that it’s possible someone opened your mail and stole it in case you were expecting this…

Ya think? 🙂

It was nice of them to bring it over…wish someone had done the same with the box for the missing books.

So, case closed: someone definitely is stealing my mail.

Now I have to pony up $200 for a relatively secure locking mailbox. Most specimens under that price can be prized open easily with a pocket screwdriver. The Epoch Boss seems to be about the best reviewed at Amazon. Of course, the local HD doesn’t carry it. So I had to mail-order the damn thing.

A-n-n-d I’ll have to pay a handyman to come install the damn thing.

Infuriating.

Meanwhile, AMEX confirmed that this month’s bills had been mailed out in plenty of time to get here. So the thieves have those, too. I arranged for AMEX to mail to the new private (effing expensive!!) PO Box. Meanwhile, who knows what else they’ve stolen? Probably year-end statements and tax paper from Fidelity and the community college district. And checks from Medicare and Medigap…

I am going to be in deep trouble if stolen Medicare and insurance checks have gone unnoticed…dayum!

Briefly, I planned to go over to the Post Office and fill out a form to have all the mail forwarded to the new private mailbox. On second thought, though, that seems like an unnecessary time suck. The barn door is open and the cows have run off, so any such line-standing, form-filling hassle and explanation hassle (x 2, because it would all have to be repeated after the security mailbox is installed) would be a pointless waste of time.

So as it stands, the supposedly jimmy-resistant locking mailbox should get here on the  30th. Handyman from Heaven will come by in the first week of the New Year. And shortly afterward, I’ll change the address for AMEX and assorted vendors back to that of my house. Between now and then, every day I watch for the MailPerson and race outside to grab the mail the instant I hear the mail truck putter on down the street.

Wheeeee!

 

Roomie Heads West

So the Great Rent-a-Room Experiment ended this morning when Roomie stuffed the last of her gear into her car, waved good-bye, and set off for San Francisco, where DH and Son hope to see her before the end of Christmas Day.

I’ll kind of miss her, because it’s nice to have a live human being around, particularly one who happens to be considerate, tidy, a good conversationalist, and so overworked she’s out of the house most of the time. 😀

So as experiments go, it was pretty successful. As a matter of fact, it worked out so well I could imagine going into the short-term rental biz, as an off-and-on sort of thing. Don’t think I’d care to do Air BNB, because I wouldn’t want total strangers around here. But occasionally visiting musicians come to town, and every now and again you hear a request for people to put up foreign students for a semester.

It’s not something I’d want to do all the time. But I could imagine hosting an out-of-towner two or three times a year.

For my purposes, Roomie could not have come along at a better time. The whole adventure was pretty stressful for her, given the circumstances she was having to cope with. But for me…hot dang!

Right at the time she was moving in, the pool pump sprang a leak. That was $600. Then of course it’s freaking Christmastime. I found the coolest hand-made artisan thingie for my son. To swing that I had to mortgage both his first-born sons (if he ever has any). And while junketing with my dear friends, I not only dropped more money than Croesus would even have considered paying for a very fine lunch, I bought myself a ludicrously overpriced purse and wallet.

Those two will go back, as soon as the holiday is over. But meanwhile the six hundred buckolas and the lunch and the Christmas presents pretty much broke the bank.

So number one Big Advantage to hosting a house guest for a month or two: the company.

Number two Big Advantage: those few incidental dollars for the rent probably saved my tail this month.

Two things I’d do differently the next time:

1. Buy a twin bed for the spare room.

Roomie bought one of those blow-up mattresses, which she tossed on the (cold!!!!) tile floor to sleep on. She insisted it was plenty comfortable, but I’ll believe that when I see corgis fly. Obviously, if I’m to volunteer that room for guests, it needs to have a decent bed in it.

2. Charge something for the utilities.

My son, a veteran of the Roommate Wars, urged me to add more to what I charged to cover utilities, and he probably was right. We’ll find out soon, when the water and gas bills show up.

When you live alone, you get so sot in your ways that you forget other people don’t live the same way you do. For example, in the wintertime, I like the ambient temperature to be cool. Very cool. Some folks (such as, oh, say, the occasional Roomie) might call it FREAKING FREEZING. I sleep better when the central heating is off and the bed is warmed first by a heating pad and then by a couple of furry friends. When the heat is set to 70 (or even 68), I’m sweltering.

Weirdly enough, Roomie found the climate on the tile floor a little too bracing for her tastes. So she would trot into the hall and jack up the heat. Eventually I would wake up in a sweat, sneak out into the hall, and turn it back down.  At one point, outside temps dropped far enough below freezing to seize up the heat pump, which caused it to labor away for hours blasting us both with icy air before one of us woke up and shut the damn thing off.

We found the way around that problem when M’hijito showed up with a fancy space heater with a remote control and a swell thermostat. It really worked very well to keep that room comfortable — Roomie expressed her joy. Nevertheless, I expect the electric bill will be pretty startling.

And Roomie is one of those folks who likes to stand in the shower until the hot water runs out. You forget there are people who are not tightwads where water and power are concerned. I’m very cheap about both and, though I insist on drawing a bath (dislike showers, by and large), filling the tub does not run the water long enough to drain a 50-gallon water heater. And when the weather’s cold, I’m not in the habit of bathing every single day, something that’s not good for aged skin and not necessary if you don’t work yourself into a sweat every day. So the water and gas bills also are likely to be…interesting.

So I think if I were to do this on a short-term basis again, I’d add a set amount to cover utilities. If the person were going to be here more than six or eight weeks, then I’d probably ask them to cover half the utility bills.

And if I were seriously to do this as a semi-regular thing, I might move myself into the guest room. The master bedroom in this house is no larger than the secondary rooms, and its bathroom is tiny. Day-to-day, I use the hall bathroom, which has room to move around and also has the bathtub. The master bathroom is about the size of the closet…and this house was built before the day of TractMansions with closets the size of a baby’s nursery.

Also, the dog door is in the guest room. To keep Ruby out of Roomie’s things, we closed off the dog door and also kept her bedroom door closed. This was OK — luckily, neither dog left any deposits around the house. But it was a little bit of a nuisance. If I were sleeping in that room, there’d be no need to keep the pooches out of it. I’d have access to the “good” bathroom. And the alleged master bedroom, which resides in the back of the house, would be more private for a guest, too.

Now I must run to the second Christmas party of the day. And so…

Merry Christmas to One and All!

BelievableFakeChristmas-tree

 

 

MacSpamFighting: ONE mistake…

Thank you, Washington Post, for an hour or two wasted… I made ONE mistake in the fight against spam on my MacMail and ended up having to sift through thousands of messages, marking the ones that are not spam by rebuilding a rule for every message. Each “rule” requires not one, not two, not three, not four, not five, but SIX clicks! Make another mistake, and you have another giant fuck-up to a) recognize; b) figure out; c) track down; and d) fix.

On a Mac, you can derail spam to the “Trash” folder by creating a “rule” that identifies the offending sender and states that everything coming from that address should go to the “Trash.” However, the rule function defaults to select not the sender but the recipient. That is: by default it targets all incoming mail directed to you!

If you’re half asleep, as you usually are by the time you’ve clicked through a dozen or more nuisances early in the morning, you can carelessly click “yeah, yeah, just DO IT,” thereby telling MacMail to send all incoming mail to the garbage.

Far as I can tell, there’s no way to undo this mistake.

You now have all your mail directed to the trash.

Your choices, then, are

a) to write a new rule directing MacMail to send all incoming mail, including the tons and tons and tons of spam, to your in-box, requiring you to re-filter every single goddamn spam message, or
b) to filter the contents of your inbox (mine had not been cleaned out since last January…) by sender’s name and then go through and search out everyone you want to hear from and write a new rule to direct each person’s messages to your in-box.

Either way, it’s a huge, huge, HUGE hassle.

This was occasioned by a series of spams from The Washington Post, which inflicts a campaign that you cannot opt out of. There is no “quit spamming me, assholes” link in their messages, and of course a request that they please quit it results in still more trash mails.

When I clicked to tell MacMail to spamify the latest nuisance message from WaPo, I accidentally hit “send all incoming mail” to the spam folder. So…yes…

So much trash arrives every day that the time-suck involved in searching for and re-classifying all legitimate senders is actually less than the time-suck involved in searching for and zapping all spammers.

Well, my mailboxes are now all cleaned out. It remains to be seen how many legitimate business and personal correspondents’ messages will be derailed to the spam folder, thanks to the idiots at The Washington Post. I don’t know how the Post got my email address. But I can tell ya one thing for sure: I’ll never read another WaPo article online! Or anywhere else.

Cookbook’s at Amazon; Print Version on the Way!

The printer says the page proofs for 30 Pounds 4 Months are in the mail. I imagine that package will arrive before Christmas. So with any luck (assuming I didn’t mess up anything in the design and layout!), the print version of the cookbook will be here right on time to rescue us all from our holiday food frenzies! 😀

At any rate, if you want to get started NOW, you can grab the digital version at Amazon.

Dark Kindle LoRes