If Laika, our dog, could talk, most days would sound like this:

Morning:
Me: Good morning. [Scratches Laika behind the ears.]
Laika: Good morning. Thanks for the scratching. You don't mind if I follow you around while you get ready, do you?
Me: That's fine.
Later.
Laika: I see you are ready for work now. Give me my rawhide chew, and I will run out back to eat it alone, because that is my instinct. Then you can close the kitchen door and go do whatever it is that you do.

Afternoon:
Laika: Hooray! You're home!
Me: Good to see you too, girl!
Laika: Hooray! You're home!
Me: Yes yes, okay, good girl.
Laika: Hooray! You're home!
Me: Settle down.
Laika: Let me lick your face!
Me: No.
Laika: Let me lick your face!
Me: No.
Laika: Let me lick your face!
Me: No. Oh, okay. [Lick.]
Laika: Hooray! You're home! Can we go to the park?
Me: Mind if I put my things down first?
Laika: Can we go to the park?
Me: Can I go to the bathroom first?
Laika: Can we go to the park?
Me: Give me a minute, would you?
Laika: Can we go to the park?
Me: Oh, okay.

(Back from the park. Mark is eating a piece of cheese.)
Laika: That cheese looks good. Can I have some?
Me: No.
Laika: Can I have some cheese?
Me: No.
Laika: Can I have some cheese?
Me: No.
Laika: Can I have some cheese?
Me: [Sighs.] Okay, here you go.
Laika: That was quite delicious. Can I have some cheese?

(Later.)
Laika: You can't take my toy away.
Me: You're right, and I don't want to.
Laika: You can't take my toy away.
Me: Yuck, get that slobbery thing off of me.
Laika: You can't take my toy away.
Me: Yes I can. [Yank.] See? Now go fetch it. [Throw.]
Laika: [Fetches, returns.] You can't take my toy away.

"Where do you find all these awesome websites?" I get asked that a lot at work, when I pass on a link. Here's where:

Blogdex - most popular links culled from people's blogs.

SlashDot - the best techie news site, with user comments.

Digg - sort of cross between the first two. I check this more and more these days.

del.icio.us popular list - sites people are saving as favorites.

Got any others you like?

The hazards of using your second language. Today, one of my Asian cow orkers (while heading off to lunch) said: "Well, I'm off to get some grubs." I hope he didn't mean that literally but I stifled my laugh just in case.

Weekend summary:

Friday night: Mark's other office Christmas party. We discover after arriving that partners were not invited, so we make an early evening of it. Indian food in town at Gaylords; my dish, yummy, Marjorie's, not so much. They also served ketchup with their papadums.

Saturday: Mark up early to watch the World Cup draw (Australia drew Brazil, Croatia, and Japan [ouch]. USA's in with Italy, Czech Republic, and Ghana [double ouch]). Afternoon: shopping, massages. In part of Mark's ongoing quest to try every type of spa treatment, he subjects himself to the "Traditional Stepping Massage". This did not involve the tiny-footed Asian girl as I had envisioned but rather an older Chinese guy in socks who proceeded to work me over thoroughly like the roughest soccer game I've ever been in. But it was surprisingly envigorating.

Sunday: Rollerbladed down to the Espy. Burgers on the grill. Then we set up the tent in the backyard just to try it out. Laika seemed to get the idea of camping, but was too excited by the surrounding possums to settle down, so she got the boot early on. The possum twittering drove Marjorie in soon after that; I made it to 5 a.m. or so, when the morning mynah birds drove me inside. Now I realise the real reason people have houses: they're to keep out the animal noises while you're trying to sleep.

The local paper has a short article and photo about last weekend's photo shoot. I won't say who I am in the photo except to say that I'm very freakin' visible.

This morning I got up at 5 am, shaved my tongue (the office Christmas party was last night), and went into town to get naked in front of a bunch of strangers.

It was a hoot, but damn cold. There were, I'd say, sixty of us. All body types; all ages; tattoos, piercings... One woman was there with her five year old son, who was a good sport most of the time, but was not happy to have to lay on the grass. It took about 40 minutes in all. The worst was posing on a bridge over the Yarra river, where we were exposed to the wind. Plus, I ended up having to lay in a wet spot (it rained last night). Brrr! Also, it started drizzling at the very end. The only witnesses were a group of joggers, one person on a hotel balcony, and a mostly-empty tram.

The calendars should be ready in about a week. Be warned, I might post some scans!

An interesting possibility presented itself at work today. The company has ideas about starting to outsource work to India (like everyone else these days). But, though it's way too early to call, it might mean a trip or two to India to set things up. Hyderabad or Mumbai. How cool would that be?

"Silly Season" is another Australianism, which is their term for the time around Christmas, when there are a slew of office (and other) parties. Silly? Hah. They've got nothing on the good ol' U. S. of A..

Uh oh. Last night we went to a (Aussie-style) Thanksgiving dinner at a friend's house. They had a picture of up by that famous photographer, Spencer Tunick, that takes pictures of large numbers of naked people in famous locations. He's even taken shots in Melbourne before.

I said to Marjorie, you know, if he ever comes to town again, we should participate. She said, you go right ahead, I'll watch.

So this morning I'm surfing around, and guess what's happening next week?

What I want for Christmas. An interesting bit of journalism from from favorite new author.

Apparently, Melbourne has another sport to its credit, besides footy, that was invented here and is played here pretty much exclusively. It's called trugo, and was invented in the 1920's by railroad workers, and involves knocking a rubber ring through goal posts with a railroad mallet. We had never heard of it until last night. Strange.

A friend of mine just got back from a trip to Egypt. I'm insanely jealous. Fortunately Marjorie decreed that tonight was the night we'd book our trip to Tasmania, which makes me feel better. Tasmania's always been just an obscure place on the map for me, not some place I'd ever thought I'd visit, and I'm stoked that we're going.

Sweet! Last night, in front of 83,000 people, Australia's national soccer team (dubbed The Socceroos) beat Uruguay to qualify for their first World Cup appearance in 32 years. It came down to a penalty kick shootout, which are VERY nerve-wracking, but for the first time in a very long time, the team I was rooting barracking for actually won a big game.

I watched from a pub with dozen or so of the lads from my soccer team. It was crazy fun; I yelled myself hoarse. Sadly, no one did the "Aussie Aussie Aussie! Oy oy oy!" cheer there, but people on the news were doing it. There were similar celebrations across the whole country, apparently: soccer has arrived.

A while back I mentioned that "shit" or "crap" are used as adjectives here, in place of "shitty" or "crappy". As a good example, today I got emailed this joke at work (as did Marjorie):

A woman goes to the zoo, and is shocked to find that they have only one animal -- a dog.

It was a shitzu.

Last Tuesday was a holiday here in Melbourne; probably the only one in the world based on a horse race. This year, we actually went. We would've witnessed some history, had we been able to see: the horse Makybe Diva won for the third straight year, a new record. Have a look.

Quote of the day:

"In a monarchy, the king and his family are the country; in a republic it is the common voice of the people. Each of you, for himself, by himself and on his own responsibility, must speak. And it is a solemn and weighty responsibility, and not lightly to be flung aside at the bullying of pulpit, press, government, or the empty catch-phrases of politicians. Each must for himself alone decide what is right and what is wrong, and which course is patriotic and which isn't. You cannot shirk this and be a man. To decide it against your convictions is to be an unqualified and inexcusable traitor, both to yourself and to your country, let men label you as they may. If you alone of all the nation shall decide one way, and that way be the right way according to your convictions of the right, you have done your duty by yourself and by your country--hold up your head. You have nothing to be ashamed of." -- Mark Twain

Geek alert. Watch this video clip of some white dots moving against a black background. It is extraordinary, but only if you know what you're looking at.

It's a star, whipping around the very center of our galaxy. Notice that you can't see the thing that it's whipping around. That's because it's a black hole, at the very center of our galaxy. This video clip pretty much confirms that there is a black hole at the center, which can be determined not only by the fact that you can't see it, but the speed at which the star whips by it. They estimate its mass to be about two million times that of our sun.

I had always thought that the center of the Milky Way was too dusty to see into; I don't know how they did it (though the answer seems to be "adaptive optics"). Notice the numbers on the top left; they indicate the year that each frame was taken, so you're looking at a ten-year time-lapse. And at this distance, it didn't just happen; you're looking at a star passing by a black hole about 28,000 years ago -- paleolithic times.

Think I'll go get stoned.

There was a classic commercial when I was growing up in the US, for Chevrolet. It was nothing but a theme song and a montage of scenes depicting Americana; the song went "Baseball, hot dogs, apple pie, and Chevrolet", over and over. At the time, it really seemed to sum up America, and was a very popular commercial, if I remember correctly.

I'm currently working on the web site for Holden, Australia's biggest and truest car maker, in spite of their actually being part of GM. And the other night on TV they had a hour long documentary on the history of Holden, which I felt compelled to watch. They showed some early commercials, and one was almost identical to the aforementioned Chevrolet commercial. They had different words, though, to the theme song; this, apparently, was how you summed up Australia at the time: "Football, meat pies, kangaroos, and Holden cars".

So now Time Magazine gives us a list of the All-Time 100 Novels (in the English language). Of them I've read:

Catch-22

The Catcher In The Rye

A Clockwork Orange

Deliverance

The Grapes of Wrath

The Great Gatsby

The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe

Lord of the Flies

1984

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

Slaughterhouse Five

Snow Crash

Their Eyes Were Watching God

To Kill A Mockingbird

Fourteen percent -- that's a lot better than I usually do on these sorts of lists. I also tried to read Neuromancer but couldn't take it. It's a questionable pick anyway.

Teacher's pet? My soccer team's end-of-year banquet was last night, in a natty little upstairs function room in town. Pretty fun. Lots of greasy hors d'oeuvres, drinks, and awards. I took home the coach's player of the year award (for the thirds team) which was a nice surprise.