Below are the 4 most recent journal entries recorded in cantunamunch's LiveJournal:

Tuesday, December 8th, 2009
11:33 am	Capers are a controlled substance. I have finally found the -one- set of square steel measuring spoons that can actually remove a significant, controlled, quantity of capers from a caper jar. I mean WTF? You can't pour them out, you can't dip and remove some with a table knife or regular spoon, and most round measuring spoons will only get one or two at a time with a side serving of brine. "Ok, this is some serious stuff and we don't want you to overdose, so unless you have these -special- spoons, you will have the choice of one at a time or an unholy mess" (Comment on this)
Saturday, November 21st, 2009
7:59 am	Our Mutual Friend 100% Post-consumer /compostable/ trash. Possible - or not? And why isn't McD's doing it? (Comment on this)
Thursday, November 19th, 2009
8:50 am	The innominate perils of having cheese for dinner My mother is outdoors, ironing, on a green lawn next to two tables heaped with laundry. Sun is still on her work, but the cedar and pine wood surrounding the lawn is already dim. Two little goats scamper through, no bigger than young poodles, agile as cats. Goats and forests mean wolves, right? Another story of the brave goat of M. Séguin, except doubled and catty? These goats are wearing knit wool, one a Laplander vest in red and white snowflake pattern, the other a yellow and white cap in the inverse pattern. My mother's radio is really loud. I look to turn it down and I'm confronted with a converging triangle of slider knobs. 1980's shiny metal on black like iconic zippers on a Schott jacket. None of them have a direct function; I'm baffled. The kittenish goat in the yellow hat has jumped onto the further table and turns to jump back off. Underhand I whisk a towel at it, a mid air envelope. It roots a bit undeneath then hooks it with a horn, aside. The radio is really loud. I jostle the zipper triangle, it fades without expiring. The goats scamper sideways and back in tandem, exit stage left except on a forest-bound diagonal, uphill. Goats run faster uphill. Centered, framed by the Zen woods, a snow monkey is laughing at me. Current Mood: amused (Comment on this)
Sunday, March 6th, 2005
10:31 am	An unimaginative shopping rut. I visited an outlet mall. One of those made-to-order mall beasties in the middle of nowhere, faux finish villages of advertising. Now, the premise of an outlet mall to my mind is that all the unsold, market-experimental goods that didn't _quite_ make it at regular retail pricing might be disposed of at convenience, making up for warehousing costs with low overhead precisely because everything is in the middle of nowhere. I was, apparently, wrong. First, brand awareness was against me. Everything has to be advertised by brand, whether Reebok/Nike/Underarmour/World Wildlife Federation. That means that each product sold in the corresponding brand store has to fit the corresponding brand image. Nothing unusual, nothing remarkable in its differences, no "well, we have this genius designer but we couldn't make this work". All white sheep and no black, you see, undersize ones whose wool wasn't considered prime the first time around. I didn't realise I was looking for black sheep or goods-art until I found nothing to relieve the mass tedium of the endless clothing/shoes/furnishings/kitchengadgetdrekh. All of which can only contribute to the overall quantity of clutter we surround ourselves with, none of which is remotely inspiring to accelerate ourselves beyond our accustomed daily rhythm. Have we become so predictable in our blandness then? How many different ways can the essentially same sneakers/jeans/fleece/linens be sold to us? Unsurprisingly, I didn't quite fit into the average mould of the shopper strolling the concrete promenades of that venue. I had just come back from an early half-day of mogul skiing, and I was still dressed in the accoutrements thereof- blue Mao-styled jacket and red mogul pants with contrasting black panels to show off proper knee motion. Wow, did I stand out from the crowd, with hair all ahoo from being under a helmet all morning. Blue top/red belly bottoms, unshaven, white stinky Duofold peeking out. For me, this was a good thing as I could be proud of what I was, different for a reason, see. Not so much to sneer at the hive-dwellers in their jeans and bomber jackets come for the fake excitement of buy-buy-buy advertising backed by the same rot found in any other mall. More because I had a reminder, a touchstone if you will, of just how individual I choose to be. So, I stayed true to my purpose (finding a present) and left without accomplishing it. (Comment on this)