My eBay, My Enabler

I always wondered what those little colored stars next to user names represented on eBay, but I wondered about it in the same way I wondered about how Thermoses work -- that is, I never really thought long about it, certainly not long enough to warrant any level of research on it.

Until today, when I received an e-mail from the good folks at eBay congratulating me for "being halfway to reaching your Blue Star!" Further reading revealed that this meant I had 25 comments in my eBay "reputation", i.e., I have made at least 25 purchases in online auctions.

Maybe I was supposed to be excited about being well on my way to 50 purchases on eBay.

To me, however, the e-mail served as an alarming reality check, something, I imagine, like a friend showing you all those empty vodka bottles you thought you'd stashed secretly away in the bedroom closet. I knew my eBay habit had been steadily growing since I made those first fateful, wedding-related, totally practical purchases. Now I've scored deals on everything from a pair of new snowboarding pants to a set of bamboo knitting needles. Apparently I did not bid and check compulsively on these auctions in the privacy of my darkened home office as I had deluded myself. Oh no, eBay assured me, "We want you to know that we noticed how busy you've been on eBay . . . "

Creepy, no? It gets better.

Like any codependent enabler who counts on its partner's addiction to keep those relationship fires burning, eBay assures me not only that my habit is perfectly within the bounds of healthy hobby, but also that it indeed makes me a Very Special Person: "People like you make and keep eBay strong. Keep it up!"

Okay, will do! It seems that, despite my concerns for my level of self-control and the balance of my PayPal account, I win! I am not only building a better reputation, i.e., becoming a better person, I am also contributing to the strength of some sort of greater good. Uh huh.

Gotta go check the status of that lot of vintage rhinestone brooches . . .

And Speaking of eBay

I have a story up at PCWorld.com about the craze over Gmail, Google's 1GB Web-based e-mail program. Beta testers each got two invitations to the service to pass on to friends. But some are selling the accounts--which will be free once the service officially launches--on eBay for pretty good little chunks o' change. Do check it out.

People, Cars, Even Lawn Mowers Do It . . .

. . . so why can't deer do it?

Check out the story of this adventurous little guy, who merged onto the Marin side of the Golden Gate Bridge in the FasTrak lane and made it across to the city in record time (10 minutes during rush hour)!

No worries--the Golden Gate Bridge Highway and Transportation District says it will waive the toll violation.

And if you'll look to your right . . .

You'll see my handy new sidebar, which will feature little tidbits from the daily doings of Hairy Alien. Thanks to B.Y. for helping snappy, impatient me with the technical difficulties.

(Emoticons courtesy of MazeGuy.)

Viva La Cherimoya!

This weekend I spied something new at my neighborhood Farmer's Market: some scaly, green, prehistoric alien fruit things were laid out on one farmer's table...cherimoyas! I had never tried a cherimoya before, but when I saw the fuss that the Latin American farmers at the stall next door raised when they saw the cherimoya guy laying out his goods, I know I had to have a taste. A free sample plucked from the farmer's pocket knife revealed a creamy white fruitflesh that tastes sorta like a banana, sorta like a pineapple, sorta like a flower and sorta totally delicious! I bought two.

Yesterday my cherimoyas reached their peak of ripeness so I got me on the Net to find some suggestions on how to eat them. The first I ate simply peeled and cut into chunks. But after I learned that a favorite way to consume these bad boys is to freeze them and scoop the flesh out of the skin like ice cream, you bet that second cherimoya went straight into the freezer. Stay tuned!

Mo 'Moya

So, I tried the frozen cherimoya. Delightful! I'll go ahead and give it four and a half stars on the unofficial Hairy Alien Produce Experience Evaluation scale (HAPEE). My only nitpick is that the flesh that immediately surrounds the seeds is more dense and so freezes harder and is a little difficult to scoop out.

If that farmer's back with the goods this weekend, I'm definitely gonna get my 'moya on again. I'm thinking my next experiment will involve peeling the frozen fruit, putting it on a stick, and eating it like a popsicle. Una paleta cherimoya!