All quiet

I've tried to be disciplined about posting every day, which isn't always easy when your blog lacks the coherence of ones such as Design*Sponge, BoingBoing, etc. (dare I add m4intern). But today I am not feeling especially talkative, and I just sat through a nice Thai lunch barely saying un mot. So, enjoy the rest of your Thursday!

LOLruses: Lovable lumps

The NYT article about walruses is ripe with potential LOL cheezburger/bukkit jokes, especially considering that the cited expert exclaims in the lede, “They’re pussycats!” The NYT of course, does not go there.

Admittedly, I was pulled in because the photo caption begins with "lovable lumps"--"lump" being a nickname that has stuck with me and my sleepy ways since my sophomore year of college. Many others might find being called "lump-o" wildly unflattering, but my heart warms at statements such as "walruses remain perversely, lumpishly obscure."

Walruses, as it turns out, actually sound pretty fun, and the beginning the article itself (three pages! the Julia Allison treatment!) is pleasantly silly.

For example:

1. "I watched Sivuqaq, a 2,200-pound adult male, roll toward me like a gelatinous, mustachioed boulder..."

2."'Just push back on the snout with the palm of your hand and blow in its face,' Dr. Schusterman instructed. 'A walrus really likes to be blown in the face.'"

3. "Then I blew in his face, and he half-closed his eyes, and I huffed and puffed harder and he leaned into my breath, all the while bleating and grunting and snorting for more."

My ongoing campaign to prove that chronic fatigue isn't BS

Not so long ago, I became convinced that chronic fatigue syndrome was real. I thought/still kind of think I have it. (Hello: my nicknames are basically all variations on "Lump.") I generally feel like I'm half asleep, and I've have napped or almost napped at more than one social gathering. I've tried convincing my mom, an RN, but she thinks it's crock. Basically, she says anyone she has seen who claims to have it has also been suffering from depression, etc.; she thinks of it more as a symptom. She even tested me for anemia and mono (both negative).

Given that my mom's an unusually caring person, being rebuffed about this made me wonder if maybe I was wrong/crazy. I may be sleepy, but I'm also stubborn...so my campaign continues.

Cutting to the chase, I bring all of this up because of an article+study that Jezebel linked to. Apparently, to feel better, I just need more testosterone. Ha!