who's the ECL?

My photo
Portland, Oregon, United States
I'm not BAD evil, more like devil's food cake evil.

Saturday, March 29, 2008

EVEN BETTER Procrastination Tool

Okay, okay. That Shoot The Frog game? Fun. Entertaining. Weird.

I found something even better! It is based on those Dance Dance Revolution games (which are good cardio) but in this version the only thing getting a workout would be your fingers. (By the way, if you live in Portland, OR, you can play the Dance Dance Revolution, and other fascinating Japanese videogames at the Avalon Theatre on Belmont.)

But back to this game: go play! It's fun! It challenges your hand-eye coordination! And musicality! And it's better than taxes!

Crazy Frog Remix (be sure to turn your sound on, it helps)

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Happy Easter, People

I grew up in a not-very-religious household, despite the fact that my mother is a Philippino Catholic (different than say, Italian Catholics or American Catholics). My dad is emphatically not much for religion, so Easter was really just an excuse to receive stuffed bunnies and chocolate nested in shredded pastel plastic. My sister and I attended Sunday school for many years, so even though we were taught the real meaning of Easter, that meaning was only talked about at Sunday school. At our public elementary school, Easter was very secular and celebrated along with things like Chinese New Years and the Japanese Spring Blossom Festival. Interestingly, I don't remember Passover mentioned at all.

My dad carried the Easter basket tradition all the way through college, when I finally had to ask him to stop sending me stuffed rabbits every year for Easter. I was 21, people, and I had four stuffed rabbits on my bed, which were constantly being thrown on the floor so my boyfriend and I could engage in our own rabbit-like behavior. My dad was a little bummed that I didn't want stuffed rabbits anymore.

Now my parents send me a card and if I'm lucky, a twenty and a little chocolate.

So I have been stashing chocolate around the apartment since I've been on my sugar fast. There's a bag of Cadbury Mini Egges in the freezer, and they are my FAVORITE. Joelf gave me a little Easter basket which I've had to hide under my bed. I even found a little Valentine's chocolate yesterday when I was cleaning up the living room. I am surrounded by chocolate. Eventually I will surrender to its smooth, melty, chocolaty goodness. I certainly hope that I will be merely jumping off the wagon for a minute, not falling off completely.

On a different note, I decided yesterday to rent a bunch of movies and curl up in front of the television for a bit. I picked up four movies and as the servatron was checking me out, he looked at my choices and exclaimed, "wow, somebody's kids are sure lucky!"
Sigh. "Oh no," I said, "these are for me."
"Yeah, but be sure to watch Enchanted with your kids. That one is great."
Sigh. "No, I don't have kids."
"You DON'T?"
"No, I just like kid movies."

(To be fair, I rented Enchanted, Ratatouille, Dan in Real Life, and Sicko. But he could have canned the incredulity, especially since he was a little teenaged sci fi geek. Like he can talk!)

Anyhoots, Happy Easter and Chocolate, blogfriends!

Friday, March 21, 2008

Procrastination Tool

I mean, why do my taxes when I can do this:

Shoot the Crazy Frog Mini Game

I can get him as far as 91.5 (measured by the top of his head). How about you?

Monday, March 17, 2008

Happy St Hoo-hah's Day, Plus the Benefits of Being 34, Single, and Childless

This day is right up there with the 4th of July in my mind. This is when it is not safe to venture anywhere near a bar for fear of stupid drunk frat boys and stupid drunk sorority cheerleaders screaming and yelling about nothing important, groping each other and throwing up in the back alley. I think a bunch of bars downtown set up some huge tent thing so that even more drinking and yelling may occur.


On a brighter note, I had a fabulous weekend. It all began with a wonderful dinner on Friday night with the sassy fiery Zetta. We have been slowly becoming friends over the last several years or so, and I am constantly delighted to learn more about her and who she is. Her sparky fire incites my sparky fire, and together we have laughed over grossly inappropriate things (which always seems to be a bonding thing for me) and commiserated over hearts and people and things missed. We have ranted about people we used to know and crazy shit in the world today. Needless to say, dinner with her was fudging fantastic.

I caught wind of a way to get $10 tickets for Portland Center Stage's productions of Twelfth Night and The Beard of Avon, so I snatched up two front row seats for both shows. How awesome is that! So Joelf and I spent Saturday afternoon and evening at the theater. How fancy! We also grabbed a quick sushi dinner between shows at the nearby sushi go-round, and while the food was mediocre at best (I mean, how fresh can the food be, when it spends who knows how long going around the restaurant on a conveyor belt?) the people watching was prime. While I do not love the food of the sushi go-round, the experience is always awesome.

Afterwards, we decided we looked too fabulous to go right home, so we looked for a bar in the Pearl to be fabulous in. We ended up at this place called district, where the bar was dark, the music was loud, and the patrons looking for sex. There were middle aged businessmen, slightly younger looking foreign businessmen, 20 something drunk blondies dancing with everybody who was standing, stout muscled gay men, several closeted gay men with their "girlfriends," and even what we suspect was a high class escort with her john. It was such an intriguing place that we stayed for two drinks just to keep watching the shenanigans. Go Portland, go. (And by the way--go, reader, go to their website--it is ridiculous and over the top. Just like their clientèle.)

Sunday Joelf and I walked down the hill to get some tea and read my guilty pleasure, Entertainment Weekly. Really, though, EW isn't a gossip rag or a magazine about makeup and shopping, so I have nothing to feel guilty about. The funny part about me reading EW is that I don't really watch TV, yet I know an awful lot about them TV shows anyway. Mostly though, EW makes me regret not having access to BBC America.

Right before the coffee shop we chanced upon a realtor putting up her open signs and so we followed her into a new loft live-work building and she showed us around the units for sale. They are your typical concrete box type lofts with the very high ceilings, wall of windows, and upstairs mezzanine where your platform bed would go. As trite as I may seem about them, there is something very appealing to me about loft style living. Maybe because to me it seems so City, so young and up and coming and adult and hip. Maybe because it seems to me the epitomy of single, or at least no-kid, living. It certainly would be much different than this leaky-windowed 1920's apartment that I occupy now. And I would OWN it. That is SO adult and grown up.

After tea and trudging back up the hill I had to hurry up and get ready for Cirque du Soleil! For Christmas I gave the Stooges (plus husband) tickets to the show, and I had just about an hour to get ready. The show was really great, very beautiful and fanciful like all Cirque shows tend to be. This one wasn't my favorite show, but I wasn't bored either.

Afterwards the Stooges went out for a simple fish and chips meal. It was nice to catch up; Cookie had been low with the flu so we hadn't seen her much lately. I love them Stooges.

I realised that being in my 30's and single and childless affords me many opportunities to get out and do stuff on a regular basis and that I owe it to myself to take advantage of that. Maybe it's because 35 is rapidly approaching and I am mildly upset about it. Maybe it's because I've watched too much Sex and the City lately, or maybe it's because I am a little bitter and jaded about my prospects for love right now. Maybe it's because I have a little extra money to spare/spend, which I haven't had for several months. Maybe it's because spring is on its way, the days are getting longer and the flowers are beginning to bloom. It could be all of these things and more, but whatever the reason, who cares. Carpe diem!

Monday, March 03, 2008

What Tarot Card I am, version 2008

You are The Lovers

Motive, power, and action, arising from Inspiration and Impulse.

The Lovers represents intuition and inspiration. Very often a choice needs to be made.

Originally, this card was called just LOVE. And that's actually more apt than "Lovers." Love follows in this sequence of growth and maturity. And, coming after the Emperor, who is about control, it is a radical change in perspective. LOVE is a force that makes you choose and decide for reasons you often can't understand; it makes you surrender control to a higher power. And that is what this card is all about. Finding something or someone who is so much a part of yourself, so perfectly attuned to you and you to them, that you cannot, dare not resist. This card indicates that the you have or will come across a person, career, challenge or thing that you will fall in love with. You will know instinctively that you must have this, even if it means diverging from your chosen path. No matter the difficulties, without it you will never be complete.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Late Night Shenanigans

I really need to go to sleep. If I stay up much longer I'll lose my window of sleepiness and end up awake until 6 am. Not. Necessary.

BUT, I was tripping through my blog's past and I found the Gizoogle Transizlatin Post.

So I gizoogled my blog. Here are a few highlights:

Weed Smokin' But Tha Cakes

evil cakes lady's blog fo' all tha gangsta shiznit in her brain


I was at an off tha hook birth this chillin' ya dig?....The epidural played havoc wit her baby's heartbeat (decels with my forty-fo' mag! panic!--the nurse didn't kizzy she was steppin' ta 2nd stage where decels happen quite frequently as tha baby gets smooshed n shoved into tha birth canal). She neva felt an urge ta push or even tha pressure sensation mizzost bitchez fizzle wizzle they have an epidural , ya feel me?....

Which she dizzay beautifully, awesizzle despite herself....I love it when that happens so i can get mah pimp on. I mean, rhymin' bitchez do that is whizzat I do this job for . You'se a flea and I'm the big dogg.

But hizzle hannah, I am exhausted. I wizzy ta W-to-tha-izzork...I mean, mah last treatment was a shiatsu n I swear I almost nodded off wizzle I was steppin' on her biznack fo' sheezy. Seriously, people.

...My mizzle? Meatloaf wit mac n cheese . Im a bad boy wit a lotta hos.

tha evil cakes lady wrote this at 6:03 PM Links ta this P-to-tha-izzost