Look Back In Anger...
Note to self: next time you let the Japanese honeysuckle along the canal road get a little out of control, and you find an ordinance citation in your mailbox from the Town Marshal telling you to cut it back, do NOT go out in a fit of irritation (both at yourself and at the marshal for citing you without trying a phone call first, which would have been nicer) and hack at the honeysuckle with your tree loppers at 8pm when it's starting to get dark. First off, you'll do a crummy job of it; second, you won't be able to see the poison ivy mixed in with the honeysuckle until it's too late; and third, when it's 80% humidity and 85° out after sunset, and then you come back in the house dripping with sweat and try to cook dinner over the stove, you're going to be courting death by heat exhaustion. All I'm sayin' is, next time, THINK, stupid.
Living in a wooded idyll as I do, putting up with invasives like Japanese honeysuckle all over my freakin' yard is par for the course. The poison ivy is even par for the course. So are the mosquitos.... and the massive ant colonies... and the mice... The upside, of course, is the canal and its denizens. I regularly see three or four different kinds of turtles in the canal; on my birthday I saw 35 of them (an omen?) between here and the grocery store. A few weeks ago the pumpkinseed sunfish were nesting along the bank; the males collect stones and shells and decorate an area about 8-12" across, and then hang out there, undulating against the current in a "hey baby" sort of way in hopes that a female sunfish will deem their nest worthy of some egg deposition. They guard their own little nests, but they'll put them right next door to each other so three or four males might all be hanging out within a foot or two of each other. "Seen any babes?" "Nope. You?" "Nope." Right after we got the leftovers of Hurricaine Dennis, the canal was clear of all wildlife, except the nesting sunfish who seemed totally unperturbed by our 7" of rain. People eat them, but I don't know why--they're pretty damn small. I also see wood ducks, and great blue herons, and muskrats. I heard a wood thrush the other night, and I sometimes hear owls. A weasel ran in front of my car a few weeks ago; it was dark, but I can't imagine what else it could have been but a weasel. And biking home from the river the other evening, I came face to face with a deer who seemed not at all alarmed by my presence. What I mean is, citations and poison ivy aside, I'm really glad I live where I do. Now I just need to remember where I put the bottle of calamine.
Saturday, July 30, 2005
I'd Like to Thank My Parents, and the Academy....
Well, I'm officially past the midpoint of my thirties as of 7 am this morning. So far, so good.
Back when I started taking Latin in 8th grade, we had a textbook with a tendency towards really ridiculous dialogues using the vocabulary of the week. One of the earliest ones I remember had to do with Rufus and Cornelia going on a "pikus-nicus." To eat on their pikus-nikus, they took Cokam-Colam (tm) and sandwichas. To this day, I can't actually go on a "picnic." It's always a pikus-nikus. I'm going on one now, for my birthday; it's going to be bonam maximam. Salve, all.
Well, I'm officially past the midpoint of my thirties as of 7 am this morning. So far, so good.
Back when I started taking Latin in 8th grade, we had a textbook with a tendency towards really ridiculous dialogues using the vocabulary of the week. One of the earliest ones I remember had to do with Rufus and Cornelia going on a "pikus-nicus." To eat on their pikus-nikus, they took Cokam-Colam (tm) and sandwichas. To this day, I can't actually go on a "picnic." It's always a pikus-nikus. I'm going on one now, for my birthday; it's going to be bonam maximam. Salve, all.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
But Commenting Is So Much Easier Than Posting....
I feel like I've been posting regularly, but of course this is a fiction encouraged by the unexpectedly popular comments field on the prior post. Every time I think I really should try to make a go of it as a professional writer, I remember that editors usually like to actually get material on a regular basis, when they're expecting it. Keeping a schedule has never been a long suit of mine. A character flaw, I know. But it's MY character flaw, dammit. It beats some of my others, such as cussing like a sailor when I knock my coffee cup over the way I just did, god friggin dammit.
I feel like I've been posting regularly, but of course this is a fiction encouraged by the unexpectedly popular comments field on the prior post. Every time I think I really should try to make a go of it as a professional writer, I remember that editors usually like to actually get material on a regular basis, when they're expecting it. Keeping a schedule has never been a long suit of mine. A character flaw, I know. But it's MY character flaw, dammit. It beats some of my others, such as cussing like a sailor when I knock my coffee cup over the way I just did, god friggin dammit.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
We Interrupt This Broadcast....
....for a very special feature announcement here on Cautionary Tale. No, it's not the news that the White House Press Corps finally regained posession of their nuts, which the Bush administration has been apparently holding in safekeeping for them for several years now. Though that was pretty exciting news, I had a lot of fun reading the transcript of Scott McClellan's briefing yesterday. And el presidente will be here in my little ol' town tomorrow, imagine that! I hope he has fun at Black Expo. But that's not what I came here to talk about. Instead, in honor of the upcoming release of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince I present to you my list of:
BOOKS THAT KICK HARRY POTTER'S ASS.
Now, it's not that I dislike Harry Potter! I find the books pretty charming, and I enjoyed reading the first three (then ran out of steam gazing on the phone book that was Goblet of Fire.) I mean no disrespect to Ms. Rowling or to the tons of people who are even now standing in line to get a copy of HBP. And I'm all for anything that gets kids and parents reading together. It just seems to me that, as a fan of kids' lit, there are a hell of a lot of books that never achieved this kind of stardom, but sure as hell deserved it. Their authors didn't make millions (I assume) but I re-read their books til the covers fell off. I've not had the impulse to re-read any of the Harry Potter books, except maybe the first one; once I knew how they ended, my interest waned. So following are some kids' books that I highly recommend, for both kids and adults. If you didn't read these when you were a child, you might want to think about reading them this summer. I'm going to make a list of them over in the sidebar later, so feel free to make further suggestions for the list in comments or email!
Over Sea, Under Stone, by Susan Cooper. This is the first in a 5 book series about some children who get swept up in an ancient mystery involving magic, King Arthur, and the holy grail. The series is good, but this first book was the one I loved best; in this, the characters are ordinary kids who find themselves plunged straight into a dangerous adventure. I liked these characters, and felt they got short shrift in the following books. But this book stands on its own as a great introduction to fantasy literature.
The Silver Crown, by Robert C. O'Brien. Pretty dark story--a girl named Ellen wakes on her birthday to find a silver crown on her pillow. She quickly discovers the crown is more than a pretty toy when her house is burned down, her family disappears, and she barely escapes being kidnapped by a man wearing a green silk hood. This book doesn't shy away from being scary, but Ellen is a great heroine--it's hard to find a book featuring a 10-year-old girl that isn't downright sappy. It's a gripping read, and there are bits that still creep me out even after having read it multiple times over the years. O'Brien also brought us Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH, the first book I was ever tempted to steal from the library (I didn't.)
The House with a Clock in its Walls, by John Bellairs. Another creepy one--not too many kids' books explain exactly what a "Hand o' Glory" is! Lewis Barnavelt's parents are killed in an accident, and he goes to live with his Uncle Johnathan who turns out to be a real live wizard. The house has a mysterious clock hidden in the walls--can Lewis find out what it does before it winds down to doomsday? But Bellairs is also damn funny; I remember my mom snorting with laughter while reading this book when I left it out on the couch one night. My edition had Edward Gorey illustrations, too.
The Westing Game, by Ellen Raskin. Raskin has to be one of the cleverest children's book authors it's ever been my pleasure to read. Each of her books is a mystery (hmm, I'm developing a theme) involving word plays, puzzles, and secret identities. In The Westing Game, old Sam Westing has been murdered and 12 people fight to inherit his estate. Each has a piece of a clue to solve his murder, and the first to solve it wins the prize. What gets me, is--the puzzles are freakin' hard! None of this "Mirror of Erised" crap--come on, how difficult was that to figure out? Throw us a curve ball, JK! Make us think! If you can figure out the solution to the Westing Game before the final couple chapters, I'll give you a dollar. I love this book.
Danny, the Champion of the World, by Roald Dahl. This is one of Dahl's lesser known books, standing in the shadow of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, but I far prefered this one. It's less dark than many of Dahl's works, but far richer in detail and character development in my opinion. Danny lives with his dad in an old Gypsy wagon in the English countryside; together they have a number of adventures, culminating in a mad plan to poach every single pheasant out of the local rich landowner's woods. It's a story of a real friendship between a parent and kid, again something that's not often found in children's lit. Another favorite of mine is the underrated Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator, the sequel to CatCF. Willy Wonka in Outer Space, fighting the dreaded Vermicious Knids! I love it. Yeah, ok, Dahl might have made millions off his books.... but the others didn't, and you should read them all.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled series of odd photos and mutterings about life in midwestern America....
....for a very special feature announcement here on Cautionary Tale. No, it's not the news that the White House Press Corps finally regained posession of their nuts, which the Bush administration has been apparently holding in safekeeping for them for several years now. Though that was pretty exciting news, I had a lot of fun reading the transcript of Scott McClellan's briefing yesterday. And el presidente will be here in my little ol' town tomorrow, imagine that! I hope he has fun at Black Expo. But that's not what I came here to talk about. Instead, in honor of the upcoming release of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince I present to you my list of:
BOOKS THAT KICK HARRY POTTER'S ASS.
Now, it's not that I dislike Harry Potter! I find the books pretty charming, and I enjoyed reading the first three (then ran out of steam gazing on the phone book that was Goblet of Fire.) I mean no disrespect to Ms. Rowling or to the tons of people who are even now standing in line to get a copy of HBP. And I'm all for anything that gets kids and parents reading together. It just seems to me that, as a fan of kids' lit, there are a hell of a lot of books that never achieved this kind of stardom, but sure as hell deserved it. Their authors didn't make millions (I assume) but I re-read their books til the covers fell off. I've not had the impulse to re-read any of the Harry Potter books, except maybe the first one; once I knew how they ended, my interest waned. So following are some kids' books that I highly recommend, for both kids and adults. If you didn't read these when you were a child, you might want to think about reading them this summer. I'm going to make a list of them over in the sidebar later, so feel free to make further suggestions for the list in comments or email!
Over Sea, Under Stone, by Susan Cooper. This is the first in a 5 book series about some children who get swept up in an ancient mystery involving magic, King Arthur, and the holy grail. The series is good, but this first book was the one I loved best; in this, the characters are ordinary kids who find themselves plunged straight into a dangerous adventure. I liked these characters, and felt they got short shrift in the following books. But this book stands on its own as a great introduction to fantasy literature.
The Silver Crown, by Robert C. O'Brien. Pretty dark story--a girl named Ellen wakes on her birthday to find a silver crown on her pillow. She quickly discovers the crown is more than a pretty toy when her house is burned down, her family disappears, and she barely escapes being kidnapped by a man wearing a green silk hood. This book doesn't shy away from being scary, but Ellen is a great heroine--it's hard to find a book featuring a 10-year-old girl that isn't downright sappy. It's a gripping read, and there are bits that still creep me out even after having read it multiple times over the years. O'Brien also brought us Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH, the first book I was ever tempted to steal from the library (I didn't.)
The House with a Clock in its Walls, by John Bellairs. Another creepy one--not too many kids' books explain exactly what a "Hand o' Glory" is! Lewis Barnavelt's parents are killed in an accident, and he goes to live with his Uncle Johnathan who turns out to be a real live wizard. The house has a mysterious clock hidden in the walls--can Lewis find out what it does before it winds down to doomsday? But Bellairs is also damn funny; I remember my mom snorting with laughter while reading this book when I left it out on the couch one night. My edition had Edward Gorey illustrations, too.
The Westing Game, by Ellen Raskin. Raskin has to be one of the cleverest children's book authors it's ever been my pleasure to read. Each of her books is a mystery (hmm, I'm developing a theme) involving word plays, puzzles, and secret identities. In The Westing Game, old Sam Westing has been murdered and 12 people fight to inherit his estate. Each has a piece of a clue to solve his murder, and the first to solve it wins the prize. What gets me, is--the puzzles are freakin' hard! None of this "Mirror of Erised" crap--come on, how difficult was that to figure out? Throw us a curve ball, JK! Make us think! If you can figure out the solution to the Westing Game before the final couple chapters, I'll give you a dollar. I love this book.
Danny, the Champion of the World, by Roald Dahl. This is one of Dahl's lesser known books, standing in the shadow of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, but I far prefered this one. It's less dark than many of Dahl's works, but far richer in detail and character development in my opinion. Danny lives with his dad in an old Gypsy wagon in the English countryside; together they have a number of adventures, culminating in a mad plan to poach every single pheasant out of the local rich landowner's woods. It's a story of a real friendship between a parent and kid, again something that's not often found in children's lit. Another favorite of mine is the underrated Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator, the sequel to CatCF. Willy Wonka in Outer Space, fighting the dreaded Vermicious Knids! I love it. Yeah, ok, Dahl might have made millions off his books.... but the others didn't, and you should read them all.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled series of odd photos and mutterings about life in midwestern America....
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
The Real Freaks and Wonders
I'd hoped to have all the rest of my photos up on flikr before posting again, but that meant I didn't post for over a week and they're still not all up anyway. Oh well, there's plenty to look at. The beginning of the Camelot Motel photos is HERE , so you can go through those before reaching Circus World, where you'll find the lovely photo at right, along with many other beautiful pics of circus wagons and oddities. I'm actually glad I didn't bring my camera, because Erin is a much better photographer than I am...
The new cat, officially now the New Cat, is settling in fine in the sense that he's perfectly happy sleeping on my couch and shoveling down bowls of catfood as fast as I fill them. However, the prior cats are less than pleased about his arrival; Hal is adjusting, but Harper spends all her time staring meanly in his direction from under the furniture, and hissing like a tea kettle if he chances to make eye contact. Sigh. She's always been a crabby cat, but lately she's reaching new heights.
I was going to do some sort of patriotic rant on the 4th of July, something about how I love my country but hate my government (and Sandra Day O'Connor is OFF my xmas card list, as of now.) But it was a warm day, and I got the Mustang out for a spin, and then Stephen and Francie had a cookout and I drank a lot of....er...various liquids and played snooker pool and croquet and swam (well, like I swim, which means I stayed in the shallow end with an inflatable hippo around my waist and said things like "quit splashing me, guys! come on...) and ate masses of salty and sugary food and completely lost my fire of righteous indignation about our foreign and domestic policies. Oh well. I already wrote my best patriotic post ever, anyway. It'd be hard to top that.
I'd hoped to have all the rest of my photos up on flikr before posting again, but that meant I didn't post for over a week and they're still not all up anyway. Oh well, there's plenty to look at. The beginning of the Camelot Motel photos is HERE , so you can go through those before reaching Circus World, where you'll find the lovely photo at right, along with many other beautiful pics of circus wagons and oddities. I'm actually glad I didn't bring my camera, because Erin is a much better photographer than I am...
The new cat, officially now the New Cat, is settling in fine in the sense that he's perfectly happy sleeping on my couch and shoveling down bowls of catfood as fast as I fill them. However, the prior cats are less than pleased about his arrival; Hal is adjusting, but Harper spends all her time staring meanly in his direction from under the furniture, and hissing like a tea kettle if he chances to make eye contact. Sigh. She's always been a crabby cat, but lately she's reaching new heights.
I was going to do some sort of patriotic rant on the 4th of July, something about how I love my country but hate my government (and Sandra Day O'Connor is OFF my xmas card list, as of now.) But it was a warm day, and I got the Mustang out for a spin, and then Stephen and Francie had a cookout and I drank a lot of....er...various liquids and played snooker pool and croquet and swam (well, like I swim, which means I stayed in the shallow end with an inflatable hippo around my waist and said things like "quit splashing me, guys! come on...) and ate masses of salty and sugary food and completely lost my fire of righteous indignation about our foreign and domestic policies. Oh well. I already wrote my best patriotic post ever, anyway. It'd be hard to top that.
Sunday, June 26, 2005
Enter, If You Dare...
House on the Rock Photos are up. Just click on the photo of Hobart the Happy Wizard, and it'll take you to my Flikr account. Then you can click "next" to go through the pics in chronological order, if you so desire.
I was going to say something about Wiscon first, but Sarah already did it so well. She conveys nicely the joy of waking up to Jeremy shouting "WAKEY WAKEY!" at 7 am after being up til 2... but I don't really have a problem with this. It's a con, I don't expect to sleep fully or wake refreshed--I can do that when I get home. The con was as I remembered it, many sci-fi fans and/or feminists, milling around and discussing the finer points of literature--or, sometimes, not. Jeremy and Erin and I made a point of attending panels where it sounded like there might be a fight between panellists and audience, and the closest we came was one that followed up on some unfriendliness last year between Republican attendees, and everyone else. The thing is, the minority voices have an excellent point in that Wiscon attendees do make certain assumptions about their fellow Wisconers' social and political beliefs. I've been going there 10 years now, and I've often heard the word "republican" being used as a euphemism for "pond scum" in any panel that's vaguely political. It annoys me, but my fellow republicans annoy me far more, so I'm not really prepared to complain. But there's an assumption that if you like sci-fi with a feminist bent, you must be politically liberal, and that's not necessarily so. (there's also an assumption that if you go to a feminist science fiction convention you must be a feminist, and I'd differ with that as well. If anyone wants a long digression on "why I don't consider myself a feminist" I'll be happy to oblige them elsewhere...) So it's a good point that was made about sci-fi cons being a place where outsiders come to feel part of the group; but the group sometimes includes people who don't share all your beliefs, but like the same books you do. There still wasn't an actual fight at that panel, but there was almost some shouting, which was close! The con suite hot dogs were still awful (but they're free,) the Madison farmer's market was still fabulous, and the Guests of Honor were great to listen to. I got to see Heather and Ted and Jen for the first time in three years (I'd link to all their livejournals, but typing in the Flickr blog box is starting to get to me) and Sarah and Wendy, and of course the redoubtable Jeremy. It was a good time. And then Erin and Jake and I sat down with her laptop and plotted a course for Camelot, by way of hell....
I'd type more, but I'm exhausted. I've semi-adopted a stray cat who's been hanging around, and tonight while I was feeding him on the back patio another cat showed up who was almost his identical twin, and they proceeded to have a chase/fight while I ran after them, trying to figure out which one was "my" cat so I could put him on the porch and let things calm down. It was just like one of those Star Trek episodes where Captain Kirk gets duplicated, and Spock doesn't know which one to shoot while they're rolling around on the floor to the combat music: "da-da DAH DAH DAH DAH dada da dah..." I finally got them sorted out, I think. Now I'm just waiting until the other one goes away so I can let "mine" back out; he's getting tamer, but I don't think he wants to spend the night on my porch. At least not without a spare litterbox...
House on the Rock Photos are up. Just click on the photo of Hobart the Happy Wizard, and it'll take you to my Flikr account. Then you can click "next" to go through the pics in chronological order, if you so desire.
I was going to say something about Wiscon first, but Sarah already did it so well. She conveys nicely the joy of waking up to Jeremy shouting "WAKEY WAKEY!" at 7 am after being up til 2... but I don't really have a problem with this. It's a con, I don't expect to sleep fully or wake refreshed--I can do that when I get home. The con was as I remembered it, many sci-fi fans and/or feminists, milling around and discussing the finer points of literature--or, sometimes, not. Jeremy and Erin and I made a point of attending panels where it sounded like there might be a fight between panellists and audience, and the closest we came was one that followed up on some unfriendliness last year between Republican attendees, and everyone else. The thing is, the minority voices have an excellent point in that Wiscon attendees do make certain assumptions about their fellow Wisconers' social and political beliefs. I've been going there 10 years now, and I've often heard the word "republican" being used as a euphemism for "pond scum" in any panel that's vaguely political. It annoys me, but my fellow republicans annoy me far more, so I'm not really prepared to complain. But there's an assumption that if you like sci-fi with a feminist bent, you must be politically liberal, and that's not necessarily so. (there's also an assumption that if you go to a feminist science fiction convention you must be a feminist, and I'd differ with that as well. If anyone wants a long digression on "why I don't consider myself a feminist" I'll be happy to oblige them elsewhere...) So it's a good point that was made about sci-fi cons being a place where outsiders come to feel part of the group; but the group sometimes includes people who don't share all your beliefs, but like the same books you do. There still wasn't an actual fight at that panel, but there was almost some shouting, which was close! The con suite hot dogs were still awful (but they're free,) the Madison farmer's market was still fabulous, and the Guests of Honor were great to listen to. I got to see Heather and Ted and Jen for the first time in three years (I'd link to all their livejournals, but typing in the Flickr blog box is starting to get to me) and Sarah and Wendy, and of course the redoubtable Jeremy. It was a good time. And then Erin and Jake and I sat down with her laptop and plotted a course for Camelot, by way of hell....
I'd type more, but I'm exhausted. I've semi-adopted a stray cat who's been hanging around, and tonight while I was feeding him on the back patio another cat showed up who was almost his identical twin, and they proceeded to have a chase/fight while I ran after them, trying to figure out which one was "my" cat so I could put him on the porch and let things calm down. It was just like one of those Star Trek episodes where Captain Kirk gets duplicated, and Spock doesn't know which one to shoot while they're rolling around on the floor to the combat music: "da-da DAH DAH DAH DAH dada da dah..." I finally got them sorted out, I think. Now I'm just waiting until the other one goes away so I can let "mine" back out; he's getting tamer, but I don't think he wants to spend the night on my porch. At least not without a spare litterbox...
Saturday, June 25, 2005
It's a Wet Heat
Ah, Indiana in the summertime! How I love it. It was 93 degrees yesterday, it'll be 95 today, and the humidity is probably around 80%. Only 80%! (Sometimes it hits 100%.) My house doesn't have air conditioning, as I may have mentioned before, and so weeks like this tend to be just a tad uncomfortable at Casa de Me.
This bothers me less than it would a lot of people. First off, I'm one who tends to get cold before everyone else; if I had my druthers, and infinite cash reserves, I'd keep the house at 75 all winter. I wear jeans until it gets to be about 80 out. Second, I spent the last two summers working outdoors doing physical labor. 95 degree days were the days you took a water break every 20 minutes or so--but you still had to be out in it doing stuff. So the body adjusts. But I still worry a little bit about the cats and the fishtank getting overheated, so today I'm putting in the window A/C unit I use, with Jason's help. (Usually my dad is the one who has the joy of helping me haul this monster up the canal bank and into the house, but he conveniently is on a "Fishing Trip" in "Canada" this week and is unavailable.)
So the photos of the Dells really did crash iPhoto 1.0, and so I had to download 2.1, and now I have the unenviable task of culling the herd and editing the photos down to be of a managable upload size on my dialup. I'm planning to do some of this later today, after I clean the house so that Jason doesn't trip on all my crap while installing my A/C, and after I finish painting the latest from my German Army customer (the entire east front is on my coffee table, it seems) and after I finish posting some of the aforementioned crap on ebay--somebody's bound to want it, right?
Ah, Indiana in the summertime! How I love it. It was 93 degrees yesterday, it'll be 95 today, and the humidity is probably around 80%. Only 80%! (Sometimes it hits 100%.) My house doesn't have air conditioning, as I may have mentioned before, and so weeks like this tend to be just a tad uncomfortable at Casa de Me.
This bothers me less than it would a lot of people. First off, I'm one who tends to get cold before everyone else; if I had my druthers, and infinite cash reserves, I'd keep the house at 75 all winter. I wear jeans until it gets to be about 80 out. Second, I spent the last two summers working outdoors doing physical labor. 95 degree days were the days you took a water break every 20 minutes or so--but you still had to be out in it doing stuff. So the body adjusts. But I still worry a little bit about the cats and the fishtank getting overheated, so today I'm putting in the window A/C unit I use, with Jason's help. (Usually my dad is the one who has the joy of helping me haul this monster up the canal bank and into the house, but he conveniently is on a "Fishing Trip" in "Canada" this week and is unavailable.)
So the photos of the Dells really did crash iPhoto 1.0, and so I had to download 2.1, and now I have the unenviable task of culling the herd and editing the photos down to be of a managable upload size on my dialup. I'm planning to do some of this later today, after I clean the house so that Jason doesn't trip on all my crap while installing my A/C, and after I finish painting the latest from my German Army customer (the entire east front is on my coffee table, it seems) and after I finish posting some of the aforementioned crap on ebay--somebody's bound to want it, right?
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Yeah Yeah, Whatevah
Yes, I've not posted in a week. Yes, I have a CD full of fantabulous photos from the Great and Powerful Erin just waiting to be uploaded for your kitchy viewing pleasure. Yes, global warming is melting our ice caps and the sun is growing cold--yes, yes, I know. But patience. I've been working (yes! working! on a job, with money and stuff! Of course, it's over NOW) and haven't had time to do editing and uploading. Plus the photos were so wonderful that they actually crashed my old version of iPhoto beyond repair when I was trying to edit them, and I had to go find New and Shiny iPhoto to replace it. But fear not! In my absence, there is, as always, FAFBLOG. If you're not into random weird, scroll down to the post titled "AMERICA: BETTER THAN GULAGS." It's brilliant. I love Fafblog. If I could marry Fafblog, I would.
Yes, I've not posted in a week. Yes, I have a CD full of fantabulous photos from the Great and Powerful Erin just waiting to be uploaded for your kitchy viewing pleasure. Yes, global warming is melting our ice caps and the sun is growing cold--yes, yes, I know. But patience. I've been working (yes! working! on a job, with money and stuff! Of course, it's over NOW) and haven't had time to do editing and uploading. Plus the photos were so wonderful that they actually crashed my old version of iPhoto beyond repair when I was trying to edit them, and I had to go find New and Shiny iPhoto to replace it. But fear not! In my absence, there is, as always, FAFBLOG. If you're not into random weird, scroll down to the post titled "AMERICA: BETTER THAN GULAGS." It's brilliant. I love Fafblog. If I could marry Fafblog, I would.
Sunday, June 12, 2005
me with friend
Gives New Meaning to Fossil Fuels
This is my new all-time favorite picture of me! It's taken at a Sinclair gas station on Highway 12, just south of the Dells. Our hotel, the "Camelot", was right across the street. If there is anything better than a gas station with a giant fiberglass dinosaur straddling the entrance to the quickiemart, I don't know what it is.
Yes, so, the Dells! The Dells were a magical place, a fitting followup to Niagara Falls on Erin's and my eternal KitchQuest. We picked the Camelot from a wide selection of cheesy theme hotels pulled up on Erin's laptop on the last night of Wiscon, and if you haven't already clicked the link above, you really should. The music makes the website--and be sure to mouse over the menu at the top for more entertaining sound effects. The thing to be aware of is that EVERY motel in the Dells is like this to some extent. I saw one pool where kids could climb up inside a killer whale and slide out its mouth, so it looked like the whale was vomiting an endless stream of children in bathing suits. (That's what I imagine the busy season would be like, anyway. Right now, it was just like an occasional child getting urped out.)
Our actual purpose in going to the Dells was to visit the circus museum in Baraboo, since Erin and I have a fascination with circus history; we've been planning this trip, quite literally, for years. Ringling Brothers had its winter quarters in Baraboo Wisconsin in the late 19th and early 20th century, and Circus World uses many of those original buildings as well as maintaining an archive of circus material and a phenominal collection of circus wagons. We spent the better part of a day there and in downtown Baraboo. Rat Girl, whose family hails from these parts, was pretty derisive about the cultural potential of a trip to Baraboo, but I figure that's because she hasn't been to the Al Ringling Theatre. Of course, neither have we--they had one showing of "Madagascar" on Memorial Day, and we missed it. Then they were closed til the following Friday. But the outside was cool! Other highlights of the Wisconsin Dells: the beer sampler and the homemade potato chips at Moose Jaw Brewpub on the Dells highway (both were fantastic, and I had a good sandwich too); breakfast at Mr. Pancake, which is across from Noah's Ark (we discovered that everything in the Dells is defined in relation to Noah's Ark--either across from it, or next to it. If Mt. Ararat were in Wisconsin, its brochure would say "visit beautiful Mt. Ararat, conveniently located below Noah's Ark!"); and piratey good fun at Pirate's Cove Adventure Golf! It even had signs with interesting pirate facts near every other hole. The Dells were everything I hoped they would be, and so much more! Hopefully photos to follow. Erin! Send me a disk!!
This is my new all-time favorite picture of me! It's taken at a Sinclair gas station on Highway 12, just south of the Dells. Our hotel, the "Camelot", was right across the street. If there is anything better than a gas station with a giant fiberglass dinosaur straddling the entrance to the quickiemart, I don't know what it is.
Yes, so, the Dells! The Dells were a magical place, a fitting followup to Niagara Falls on Erin's and my eternal KitchQuest. We picked the Camelot from a wide selection of cheesy theme hotels pulled up on Erin's laptop on the last night of Wiscon, and if you haven't already clicked the link above, you really should. The music makes the website--and be sure to mouse over the menu at the top for more entertaining sound effects. The thing to be aware of is that EVERY motel in the Dells is like this to some extent. I saw one pool where kids could climb up inside a killer whale and slide out its mouth, so it looked like the whale was vomiting an endless stream of children in bathing suits. (That's what I imagine the busy season would be like, anyway. Right now, it was just like an occasional child getting urped out.)
Our actual purpose in going to the Dells was to visit the circus museum in Baraboo, since Erin and I have a fascination with circus history; we've been planning this trip, quite literally, for years. Ringling Brothers had its winter quarters in Baraboo Wisconsin in the late 19th and early 20th century, and Circus World uses many of those original buildings as well as maintaining an archive of circus material and a phenominal collection of circus wagons. We spent the better part of a day there and in downtown Baraboo. Rat Girl, whose family hails from these parts, was pretty derisive about the cultural potential of a trip to Baraboo, but I figure that's because she hasn't been to the Al Ringling Theatre. Of course, neither have we--they had one showing of "Madagascar" on Memorial Day, and we missed it. Then they were closed til the following Friday. But the outside was cool! Other highlights of the Wisconsin Dells: the beer sampler and the homemade potato chips at Moose Jaw Brewpub on the Dells highway (both were fantastic, and I had a good sandwich too); breakfast at Mr. Pancake, which is across from Noah's Ark (we discovered that everything in the Dells is defined in relation to Noah's Ark--either across from it, or next to it. If Mt. Ararat were in Wisconsin, its brochure would say "visit beautiful Mt. Ararat, conveniently located below Noah's Ark!"); and piratey good fun at Pirate's Cove Adventure Golf! It even had signs with interesting pirate facts near every other hole. The Dells were everything I hoped they would be, and so much more! Hopefully photos to follow. Erin! Send me a disk!!
Friday, June 03, 2005
AUUUGHHH!!! MY BRAIN!!!!!
I'd fully planned for my first post after this weekend to discuss my trip to Wiscon, the sci-fi convention I go to in Madison WI; I'd expected to talk about Robin McKinley, and the joys of Madison in the springtime, and the fun of seeing old friends I've missed in my last two years of non-attendence. All memory of this event, however, was completely erased by my post-Wiscon visit to The House on the Rock.
The House may not look like much on its website. Even if you click the "photos" link, you cannot fully conceive of the horror of actually being there; it was positively Lovecraftian. When HPL described things that were "non-Euclidian," "cyclopean," and "unwholesome," he was describing this house. (Yes, I know he died before it was built. No, I don't care.) Before we'd even paid our admission, when all we'd seen were the lobby and the restrooms, Erin and I had devised a code to simplify communication during our visit:
1 = "What the hell IS that?"
2 = "Holy crap!"
3 = "What in God's name were they thinking?"
4 = "What is it FOR?"
We came up with this code after entering the bathroom and being confronted with a large, glassed-in diorama of dolls in a winter/Christmas venue built into the wall of the ladies' loo. Sound nice? It wasn't. Every doll, every carousel animal, every figurine in this place has a vague aura of "evil toy" surrounding it. They could film a Stephen King movie here and not have to buy set dressing. This effect is enhanced by the fact that the light levels are kept intentionally, spookily dim, and the whole place has the quality of a nightmare landscape. Within the first half hour of being there, Jake said quite matter of factly, "We should keep an eye on the clock. Because we do NOT want to be trapped in this place overnight..." Oh god. The first part, the actual house, is just kind of weird--every surface is either raw stone slabs or shag carpet, and instead of rooms, there are sort of nooks and pits and benches covered in carpet (because everything's better with carpet) and open fireplaces in the middle of the floor, and then occasionally something that actually would look like a normal room if it didn't contain a trundle bed full of animatronic teddy bears. Or something. But THEN comes true horror--the other buildings housing the House's collection of collections. Arms and armor. A case full of spitoons. Circus paraphenalia. Any of this would be fine by itself, but it's all crammed together in this massive sensory overload of junk, and still with the dim lighting and the creepy figurines the whole place works together to create a sense of unease. The band organ rooms were the worst; automated instruments occupying empty chairs in a tableau of roccocco furnishings and red velvet, surrounded by statues of saints and apostles, strings of pearls, and a coach pulled by two of the evilest carousel animals I've ever seen. It was like being trapped inside a hideous Christmas ornament. I reached a point where the only thing I could say was "The....the...it....why???" And Erin and Jake just nodded in agreement.
I won't even talk about the whale. It's beyond description.
Anyway, after escaping The House, we went on to spend a day in the Wisconsin Dells, and everything we did or saw there was tasteful and understated by comparison. I'll write about that and Wiscon later, and maybe have some of Erin's pictures to illustrate the indescribable horror I've just described. In the meantime, I'll be drinking heavily in an attempt to block it out. If you need me, I'll be under the bed.
I'd fully planned for my first post after this weekend to discuss my trip to Wiscon, the sci-fi convention I go to in Madison WI; I'd expected to talk about Robin McKinley, and the joys of Madison in the springtime, and the fun of seeing old friends I've missed in my last two years of non-attendence. All memory of this event, however, was completely erased by my post-Wiscon visit to The House on the Rock.
The House may not look like much on its website. Even if you click the "photos" link, you cannot fully conceive of the horror of actually being there; it was positively Lovecraftian. When HPL described things that were "non-Euclidian," "cyclopean," and "unwholesome," he was describing this house. (Yes, I know he died before it was built. No, I don't care.) Before we'd even paid our admission, when all we'd seen were the lobby and the restrooms, Erin and I had devised a code to simplify communication during our visit:
1 = "What the hell IS that?"
2 = "Holy crap!"
3 = "What in God's name were they thinking?"
4 = "What is it FOR?"
We came up with this code after entering the bathroom and being confronted with a large, glassed-in diorama of dolls in a winter/Christmas venue built into the wall of the ladies' loo. Sound nice? It wasn't. Every doll, every carousel animal, every figurine in this place has a vague aura of "evil toy" surrounding it. They could film a Stephen King movie here and not have to buy set dressing. This effect is enhanced by the fact that the light levels are kept intentionally, spookily dim, and the whole place has the quality of a nightmare landscape. Within the first half hour of being there, Jake said quite matter of factly, "We should keep an eye on the clock. Because we do NOT want to be trapped in this place overnight..." Oh god. The first part, the actual house, is just kind of weird--every surface is either raw stone slabs or shag carpet, and instead of rooms, there are sort of nooks and pits and benches covered in carpet (because everything's better with carpet) and open fireplaces in the middle of the floor, and then occasionally something that actually would look like a normal room if it didn't contain a trundle bed full of animatronic teddy bears. Or something. But THEN comes true horror--the other buildings housing the House's collection of collections. Arms and armor. A case full of spitoons. Circus paraphenalia. Any of this would be fine by itself, but it's all crammed together in this massive sensory overload of junk, and still with the dim lighting and the creepy figurines the whole place works together to create a sense of unease. The band organ rooms were the worst; automated instruments occupying empty chairs in a tableau of roccocco furnishings and red velvet, surrounded by statues of saints and apostles, strings of pearls, and a coach pulled by two of the evilest carousel animals I've ever seen. It was like being trapped inside a hideous Christmas ornament. I reached a point where the only thing I could say was "The....the...it....why???" And Erin and Jake just nodded in agreement.
I won't even talk about the whale. It's beyond description.
Anyway, after escaping The House, we went on to spend a day in the Wisconsin Dells, and everything we did or saw there was tasteful and understated by comparison. I'll write about that and Wiscon later, and maybe have some of Erin's pictures to illustrate the indescribable horror I've just described. In the meantime, I'll be drinking heavily in an attempt to block it out. If you need me, I'll be under the bed.
Friday, May 27, 2005
Adam, Eve, and their Pet T-Rex....
In observing families in Dinosphere at the Children's Museum of Indianapolis, I'd wondered how creationist parents explain dinosaurs to their kids when visiting exhibits like this. Do they just say, "God put the bones there for us to find!" or "Yes, well--look! The snack bar!" or what? Well, wonder no more, as a new museum in Kentucky will explain the issue for god-fearin' folk of all sorts! No longer will dinosaurs be "held hostage" by us evolutionists! Now the dinos will speak for themselves, confirming through the god-given miracle of animatronics that they did, indeed, live simultaneously with man before the Fall. Which was about 4000 years ago, incidentally. Now creationist kids at school, no longer burdened with a need for scientific proofs, can proudly proclaim, "I know dinosaurs lived with people, because a robot at the Creation Museum said so!" Radiocarbon dating be damned!
I was going to spend some further time snappin' on Episode III, but this was a lot funnier. Honestly, I have no problem with a religious take on life, the universe, and everything, (I have one myself!) but biblical literalists just baffle me.
In observing families in Dinosphere at the Children's Museum of Indianapolis, I'd wondered how creationist parents explain dinosaurs to their kids when visiting exhibits like this. Do they just say, "God put the bones there for us to find!" or "Yes, well--look! The snack bar!" or what? Well, wonder no more, as a new museum in Kentucky will explain the issue for god-fearin' folk of all sorts! No longer will dinosaurs be "held hostage" by us evolutionists! Now the dinos will speak for themselves, confirming through the god-given miracle of animatronics that they did, indeed, live simultaneously with man before the Fall. Which was about 4000 years ago, incidentally. Now creationist kids at school, no longer burdened with a need for scientific proofs, can proudly proclaim, "I know dinosaurs lived with people, because a robot at the Creation Museum said so!" Radiocarbon dating be damned!
I was going to spend some further time snappin' on Episode III, but this was a lot funnier. Honestly, I have no problem with a religious take on life, the universe, and everything, (I have one myself!) but biblical literalists just baffle me.
Sunday, May 22, 2005
Can't Talk. Watching Star Wars.
Finally saw Ep III today. There was good, and bad--but a lot more good and a lot less bad than the previous two. I don't get it--is George Lucas really just a total dumbass, that he couldn't find a way to make all three movies work at least as well as this one did? I still rate it below the original trilogy (if you're counting, my list of favorites goes IV, V, VI, III, II, I) but it made me want to watch A New Hope again. Which I'm doing, as soon as I finish this post. Letterbox, pre-digital enhancement, Han-Shot-First version. Later I may post a more insightful analysis of the film, but for now I'll just leave you with my friend Jason's brilliant realization from the last 10 minutes of the film: why in the name of god did they not use that shot of Vader's helmet being bolted on as the LAST SHOT OF THE FILM?? It was a perfect final shot. Get all the crap about splitting up the twins out of the way first, then cut to Vader's final assembly on the Frankenstein table....the helmet clamps down.... transformation complete... we hear the first gasping breath.... and the credits roll, Da da DAAAA DAH! We didn't need the dumb "Where's Padme? I killed her? Nooooooo!!!"--that totally didn't work. The helmet bit was so cool, everyone in the audience went "ooo!" and then the film went on for another 10 minutes. Lose 50 cool points, George Lucas.
Finally saw Ep III today. There was good, and bad--but a lot more good and a lot less bad than the previous two. I don't get it--is George Lucas really just a total dumbass, that he couldn't find a way to make all three movies work at least as well as this one did? I still rate it below the original trilogy (if you're counting, my list of favorites goes IV, V, VI, III, II, I) but it made me want to watch A New Hope again. Which I'm doing, as soon as I finish this post. Letterbox, pre-digital enhancement, Han-Shot-First version. Later I may post a more insightful analysis of the film, but for now I'll just leave you with my friend Jason's brilliant realization from the last 10 minutes of the film: why in the name of god did they not use that shot of Vader's helmet being bolted on as the LAST SHOT OF THE FILM?? It was a perfect final shot. Get all the crap about splitting up the twins out of the way first, then cut to Vader's final assembly on the Frankenstein table....the helmet clamps down.... transformation complete... we hear the first gasping breath.... and the credits roll, Da da DAAAA DAH! We didn't need the dumb "Where's Padme? I killed her? Nooooooo!!!"--that totally didn't work. The helmet bit was so cool, everyone in the audience went "ooo!" and then the film went on for another 10 minutes. Lose 50 cool points, George Lucas.
Friday, May 13, 2005
southpark me
A Slave to Fashion
I realized I'd done the totally wrong hair on the portrait below, so I just relinked it. Butterfly Woman (who needs to find a new handle) did a good one of me last night, and I did pretty entertaining ones of her and Rat Girl. I'll upload them to Flickr in a bit. My bosses are moving across town this weekend, and will be only 5 minutes from my house; to give them (and me!) an officewarming present I'm doing some shopping at Despair.com. I think I'll buy the "Achievement" poster for them, and maybe "Mediocrity" for myself. Ooo, and a "Procrastination" coffee mug!
I realized I'd done the totally wrong hair on the portrait below, so I just relinked it. Butterfly Woman (who needs to find a new handle) did a good one of me last night, and I did pretty entertaining ones of her and Rat Girl. I'll upload them to Flickr in a bit. My bosses are moving across town this weekend, and will be only 5 minutes from my house; to give them (and me!) an officewarming present I'm doing some shopping at Despair.com. I think I'll buy the "Achievement" poster for them, and maybe "Mediocrity" for myself. Ooo, and a "Procrastination" coffee mug!
Monday, May 09, 2005
Mmm....Lollipop and Beer....
For another, kinder version of me, go here and scroll down to the bottom. This entertaining diversion is available at Planearium.
And while I'm plugging entertaining stuff, here's one for my nerdy friends. Charles has been at me to check out his friend Rich's webcomic, a tribute to D&D called Order of the Stick. Naturally, I've been putting it off because I'm not a big fan of D&D and I was afraid it'd be all Knights of the Dinner Table or--god forbid--Nodwick-like. But lo, I am converted. It's gotten an out-loud laugh from me multiple times now and I'm not even halfway through the back episodes. I recommend starting from the beginning, but if you go to this one and read it plus the next two, and then don't like it, I'll give you your money back. (This offer applies for nerds only. Anyone reading this who isn't already an RPG nerd, well, go read Big Top instead. It's equally funny, without the nerd component. And Rob is a talented guy who sells me original art on occasion! His first book is out, BTW, and worth every penny of the $11. Buy it and drive his popularity on Amazon through the roof.)
For another, kinder version of me, go here and scroll down to the bottom. This entertaining diversion is available at Planearium.
And while I'm plugging entertaining stuff, here's one for my nerdy friends. Charles has been at me to check out his friend Rich's webcomic, a tribute to D&D called Order of the Stick. Naturally, I've been putting it off because I'm not a big fan of D&D and I was afraid it'd be all Knights of the Dinner Table or--god forbid--Nodwick-like. But lo, I am converted. It's gotten an out-loud laugh from me multiple times now and I'm not even halfway through the back episodes. I recommend starting from the beginning, but if you go to this one and read it plus the next two, and then don't like it, I'll give you your money back. (This offer applies for nerds only. Anyone reading this who isn't already an RPG nerd, well, go read Big Top instead. It's equally funny, without the nerd component. And Rob is a talented guy who sells me original art on occasion! His first book is out, BTW, and worth every penny of the $11. Buy it and drive his popularity on Amazon through the roof.)
Thursday, May 05, 2005
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
A Crowning Achievement
Dear 6-Year-Old Me,
I'm sending this letter back through time to tell you something very important. You know how you avoid brushing your teeth? How you'll go to the trouble of wetting the toothbrush so mom won't know you're being passive aggressively sneaky? Well--knock it off. The vague sense of freedom you have now will backfire on you in a year or so, when you have to have fillings in all of your 6-year molars. But it doesn't stop there, my little friend. Ohhhh, no. Almost three decades hence, what's left of those same molars is going to start breaking away, bit by bit, until all that's left is the base of the tooth and all those fillings. You know what happens then? They make you get a crown. Yeah, the gold kind. No, it's still not cool. And it's not cheap either. So get your ass into the bathroom and start brushing. Oh, and when you get to college, you might want to think about majoring in something that actually leads to a clear career path--it could save us some serious time. But that's up to you.
Love,
Me.
Dear 6-Year-Old Me,
I'm sending this letter back through time to tell you something very important. You know how you avoid brushing your teeth? How you'll go to the trouble of wetting the toothbrush so mom won't know you're being passive aggressively sneaky? Well--knock it off. The vague sense of freedom you have now will backfire on you in a year or so, when you have to have fillings in all of your 6-year molars. But it doesn't stop there, my little friend. Ohhhh, no. Almost three decades hence, what's left of those same molars is going to start breaking away, bit by bit, until all that's left is the base of the tooth and all those fillings. You know what happens then? They make you get a crown. Yeah, the gold kind. No, it's still not cool. And it's not cheap either. So get your ass into the bathroom and start brushing. Oh, and when you get to college, you might want to think about majoring in something that actually leads to a clear career path--it could save us some serious time. But that's up to you.
Love,
Me.
Sunday, April 24, 2005
What Next, Rain of Frogs?
The unexpected 15 minutes of hail here on Friday coincided nicely with the first night of Passover yesterday. We didn't even need Li's Bag O' Plagues to provide versimilitude for Plague # 7.But my favorite of the 10 was the hopping frog, operated by squeezing a rubber bulb; for some reason he kept hopping up against the bottle of kosher Cabernet Sauvignon, as if begging us to pour him a glass. Poor little guy.
Anyway, as always, a lovely seder thrown by Li. And as always, Ed had a new zombie DVD to show me--this one, and I'm seriously debating whether I should watch it or not, involves costumed Mexican wrestlers fighting off the zombie menace. Ed deems it the worst film he's ever seen, which I find hard to grasp considering he also owns "Passion of the Zombie Christ" and "Nudist Colony of the Dead."
On that twisted note, I need to get back to work. Happy Pesach--
The unexpected 15 minutes of hail here on Friday coincided nicely with the first night of Passover yesterday. We didn't even need Li's Bag O' Plagues to provide versimilitude for Plague # 7.But my favorite of the 10 was the hopping frog, operated by squeezing a rubber bulb; for some reason he kept hopping up against the bottle of kosher Cabernet Sauvignon, as if begging us to pour him a glass. Poor little guy.
Anyway, as always, a lovely seder thrown by Li. And as always, Ed had a new zombie DVD to show me--this one, and I'm seriously debating whether I should watch it or not, involves costumed Mexican wrestlers fighting off the zombie menace. Ed deems it the worst film he's ever seen, which I find hard to grasp considering he also owns "Passion of the Zombie Christ" and "Nudist Colony of the Dead."
On that twisted note, I need to get back to work. Happy Pesach--
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
It's the Most...Hor-ri-ble Time...of the Year!
Why don't the networks have holiday specials celebrating the final month of the semester in November and April? Everyone could get on the bandwagon. "It's Your GPA, Charlie Brown!" "The Little, Dumber Boy." "Twas the Night Before Finals." And Rankin-Bass could do a special where Frosty the Snowman (voiced by Burl Ives) melts while studying in the library--"All they found was his hat, a book on Latin noun declensions, and a big puddle...." So sad. Did you ever wonder why Frosty didn't just toss Karen into that greenhouse and then go back outside? What the hell was wrong with him? And while we're on the subject of Rankin-Bass holiday specials, did anyone else think that the villain in "The Incredibles" looked just like Heat Miser from "The Year Without a Santa Claus?" (Well, apparently the person I just linked to did. Thank you, google image search!)
See, this is why I never get any work done. I have two huge projects looming over me, one of which I've barely started--or rather, I started it, found out that my subject is utterly unresearchable without a massive travel grant that i don't have, and stopped in a fit of depression. So what am I doing instead? I'm uploading pictures to Flickr. I'm endlessly checking my email. I'm watching all the commentaries on Firefly. I'm watching basketball--Indiana beat Toronto after playing about 40 minutes of just horrible defense, and it was painful to watch yet I didn't turn it off! The heck with Frosty, what the hell's wrong with ME? I'm melting in the greenhouse with Karen, yet I don't have the sense to go outside and close the door!
The great thing about blogging is that I can go back to the last several Novembers and Aprils and realize that I do this to myself every friggin year. I have weeks of horrible guilt and agonizing, followed by one-two passionate weeks of insane work powered by Mountain Dew, followed by a huge sigh of relief and perfectly adequate grades. It would be perfect if I could just leave out the agonizing part and skip straight to the work and the sighing. Apparently the guilt is encoded in my DNA though.... Oh well. It's almost time for the insanity stage anyway.
Why don't the networks have holiday specials celebrating the final month of the semester in November and April? Everyone could get on the bandwagon. "It's Your GPA, Charlie Brown!" "The Little, Dumber Boy." "Twas the Night Before Finals." And Rankin-Bass could do a special where Frosty the Snowman (voiced by Burl Ives) melts while studying in the library--"All they found was his hat, a book on Latin noun declensions, and a big puddle...." So sad. Did you ever wonder why Frosty didn't just toss Karen into that greenhouse and then go back outside? What the hell was wrong with him? And while we're on the subject of Rankin-Bass holiday specials, did anyone else think that the villain in "The Incredibles" looked just like Heat Miser from "The Year Without a Santa Claus?" (Well, apparently the person I just linked to did. Thank you, google image search!)
See, this is why I never get any work done. I have two huge projects looming over me, one of which I've barely started--or rather, I started it, found out that my subject is utterly unresearchable without a massive travel grant that i don't have, and stopped in a fit of depression. So what am I doing instead? I'm uploading pictures to Flickr. I'm endlessly checking my email. I'm watching all the commentaries on Firefly. I'm watching basketball--Indiana beat Toronto after playing about 40 minutes of just horrible defense, and it was painful to watch yet I didn't turn it off! The heck with Frosty, what the hell's wrong with ME? I'm melting in the greenhouse with Karen, yet I don't have the sense to go outside and close the door!
The great thing about blogging is that I can go back to the last several Novembers and Aprils and realize that I do this to myself every friggin year. I have weeks of horrible guilt and agonizing, followed by one-two passionate weeks of insane work powered by Mountain Dew, followed by a huge sigh of relief and perfectly adequate grades. It would be perfect if I could just leave out the agonizing part and skip straight to the work and the sighing. Apparently the guilt is encoded in my DNA though.... Oh well. It's almost time for the insanity stage anyway.
Thursday, April 07, 2005
Insert Photos Here
Ok, I really, REALLY need to clean up my living room. It's like a friggin homework bomb went off in here, I've got books and papers on every surface, important sources for my projects comingling with junk mail and phone bills that need paying. Not to mention the 47 Eastern Auxiliary cavalry I painted three weeks ago (I have no idea where #48 went, there should be 4 dozen but one's galloped off apparently) which are sitting on the coffee table waiting for me to put fake grass on them and send them to New Jersey. So no time for blogging! Amuse yourselves, in my absence, with the photos from my trip to Vegas. If you view it as a slideshow you don't get my somewhat verbose captions. You can decide for yourselves if this is a good thing.
Ok, I really, REALLY need to clean up my living room. It's like a friggin homework bomb went off in here, I've got books and papers on every surface, important sources for my projects comingling with junk mail and phone bills that need paying. Not to mention the 47 Eastern Auxiliary cavalry I painted three weeks ago (I have no idea where #48 went, there should be 4 dozen but one's galloped off apparently) which are sitting on the coffee table waiting for me to put fake grass on them and send them to New Jersey. So no time for blogging! Amuse yourselves, in my absence, with the photos from my trip to Vegas. If you view it as a slideshow you don't get my somewhat verbose captions. You can decide for yourselves if this is a good thing.
Saturday, April 02, 2005
Spoonin'.
OK, so this photo was a little bit staged. As there are usually no witnesses to this phenomenon, I had to take advantage of it when Hal was in a snuggling mood while I had a friend over. But it really was morning, and I hadn't combed my hair yet. Anyway, more proof that I have a great cuddly cat, we sleep like this all the time. On the flip side, this is why I live on over-the-counter allergy drugs.
Those who have met Hal usually deem him one of the dumber cats they've encountered after knowing him for a few minutes. He's huge, he's goofy, and he persists in doing things that aren't good for him. However, he occasionally has shining moments of cat genius, like last night for instance. We got a new type of fish-flavored cat treats a few weeks ago (free in the bin of Tidy Cat.) They have the slightly over-the-top name of "Aquari-Yums," and they come in a plastic screwtop bottle. I figured this was a good thing, as Hal will chew through the plastic/foil packets of our usual treat brand if he can get hold of them. So the other night I opened the Aquari-Yums and gave him and Harper a sample. They went over well, and I screwed the top back on and put the bottle on my bedside table. No worries. Then last night, I'm sitting on the couch and I hear Hal scratching around in the bedroom. I figure he's probably just in the sandbox; he can be pretty industrious, so I didn't think much about it until the scratching and thumping had gone on for several minutes. I was just getting ready to go see what the hell was up when he came bouncing into the living room with a piece of green plastic in his mouth, which he dropped in front of me and then looked up expectantly. It was the screwtop to the treat jar. I went in the bedroom, and he had knocked the bottle off the table and into the trash can, where it landed upright; apparently he'd gotten the lid off, but still couldn't get at the treats because the bottle didn't fall over. So he came out to request my assistance in his crime--"Hey, hi, I got this thing off, but there's something still not right here, could you give me a hand?" It worked, of course, I rewarded his ingenuity before moving the jar (lid restored) to a new undisclosed location. Wow, though. What a cat.
Comments are fixed thanks to John at Enetation! Anyone looking for a comments system for their blog, I highly recommend them; barring this one hiccup related to my switch to Pro, it's been a great service, and they're usually swift to get back to you to fix a problem.
OK, so this photo was a little bit staged. As there are usually no witnesses to this phenomenon, I had to take advantage of it when Hal was in a snuggling mood while I had a friend over. But it really was morning, and I hadn't combed my hair yet. Anyway, more proof that I have a great cuddly cat, we sleep like this all the time. On the flip side, this is why I live on over-the-counter allergy drugs.
Those who have met Hal usually deem him one of the dumber cats they've encountered after knowing him for a few minutes. He's huge, he's goofy, and he persists in doing things that aren't good for him. However, he occasionally has shining moments of cat genius, like last night for instance. We got a new type of fish-flavored cat treats a few weeks ago (free in the bin of Tidy Cat.) They have the slightly over-the-top name of "Aquari-Yums," and they come in a plastic screwtop bottle. I figured this was a good thing, as Hal will chew through the plastic/foil packets of our usual treat brand if he can get hold of them. So the other night I opened the Aquari-Yums and gave him and Harper a sample. They went over well, and I screwed the top back on and put the bottle on my bedside table. No worries. Then last night, I'm sitting on the couch and I hear Hal scratching around in the bedroom. I figure he's probably just in the sandbox; he can be pretty industrious, so I didn't think much about it until the scratching and thumping had gone on for several minutes. I was just getting ready to go see what the hell was up when he came bouncing into the living room with a piece of green plastic in his mouth, which he dropped in front of me and then looked up expectantly. It was the screwtop to the treat jar. I went in the bedroom, and he had knocked the bottle off the table and into the trash can, where it landed upright; apparently he'd gotten the lid off, but still couldn't get at the treats because the bottle didn't fall over. So he came out to request my assistance in his crime--"Hey, hi, I got this thing off, but there's something still not right here, could you give me a hand?" It worked, of course, I rewarded his ingenuity before moving the jar (lid restored) to a new undisclosed location. Wow, though. What a cat.
Comments are fixed thanks to John at Enetation! Anyone looking for a comments system for their blog, I highly recommend them; barring this one hiccup related to my switch to Pro, it's been a great service, and they're usually swift to get back to you to fix a problem.
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