And Then I Woke Up, and the Semester Was Over!

Thank god that's over. Technically, of course, it's not over; I have an exam tomorrow. But I swear, I have never in my life cared less about prepping for an exam than I have for this one... First, it won't be hard, and second, this class was rather a large pain in the butt which culminated in my turning in two large projects last week. Once those were out of my hands, well..... what exam? Assuming I don't fail the class, I'm only 9 credits away from the master's. Three classes. Next year, at this time, another shiny papery degree on my wall. Mmmm. Then what?

Bathroom remodelling, apparently. No, wait, that needs to happen sooner than the degree. That needs to happen way soon. Blue? Green? Tiled walls? Tiled floor? New vanity? And how the hell am I going to get that stupid bathtub out of there...

Like a Beach Vacation in My Bathroom

I had planned to write something about my adventures exploring the wreckage of my family's old business this week, with the welcome assistance of Butterfly Woman. Was going to call it Nancy Drew and the Mystery of the Ruined Factory or something equally enticing. It was pretty damn cool, kind of like an archaeology dig and a post-apocalyptic movie set all rolled into one... But then my plumbing backed up this morning. (Technically, it also backed up Thursday night, but I thought that was a freak accident.) This sent me into a spiral of un-Nancy-like grouchiness. The pipes from my house to the septic tank have a very shallow grade, meaning that gravity isn't working for me as it should, and the pipes are prone to blockage. I'm careful about what I put down them because of this, but apparently we've reached that point again where running the dishwasher or the washing machine causes water to pour from all orifaces of the downstairs bathroom, specifically the tub drain and the toilet. The downstairs bathroom is pretty horrible to begin with, and the occasional floodings haven't helped it. I kept the catbox in the tub down there for a while, since I wasn't using it as a bathtub, and it nicely contained any spilled kitty litter and the occasional cat accident. I moved the catbox a while ago, but there's still a lot of residual cat sand and clay dust in the room. Combine that with a few gallons of water bursting up through the pipes, and voila! It's just like Maui, only with ugly linoleum peeling up at the corners.

So I've had it with the occasional floods. I ripped up the linoleum tonight, I ripped the wallpaper off the walls and the crappy fake woodwork trim off the baseboard. Tomorrow I'm cutting out the carpet in the hallway outside, which is soaked beyond reclaimation. After school finishes up next week, I'm going carpet shopping. Meanwhile, the plumber comes on Tuesday. Nancy Drew will have to wait.

Oh No! We're on Bert Alert!

It's about time someone started taking this homeland security terror alert level thing seriously.

CURRENT TERROR ALERT LEVEL

As a service to my readers, who want to stay up to date on the current state of our nation's safety, I've put a permanent link to this terror alert system on the left sidebar. When the Dept. of Homeland Security updates our terror level, you'll be among the first to know! (I find it strangely appropriate that the highest level of threat to our nation is "Elmo Alert." He's easily the most alarming muppet ever.)

Because the Squirrels in My Head Told Me To....

Yeah, I'm a little stressed in the last week or two. Or three. I'm trying to finish an incomplete class I took last semester; all that stands between me and a big F on my permenent record are 20 feeble pages of research report. It's mostly written. Mostly. But the last bit is the bit that I didn't research as well as I should have, and now I'm frantically tapdancing to fill it in. Plus the design class projects, both of which are in a state of shambles. Plus work. Plus stress about other work. I've sort of possibly been offered a contract job by someone who I've been lightheartedly asking for work for a year. The problem is, it's not the kind of job I'd thought it was; various factors make me think I'd probably really, REALLY not enjoy it. (It involves a lot of travel, which I enjoy but not for 3 weeks out of every 2 months. It'd look great on my resume, but it'd preclude my school stuff, my other part time or full time work, and some of my hobbies--it's hard to just leave gardening for three weeks at a clip.) So I'm a little freaked at the prospect of making a decision on that. My leaning is to follow my heart, work for Crocodile full-time in 2005, keep my eyes peeled for more suitable jobs.... but I don't relish backing away from contract work for Indy's largest museum, working for someone I like and respect. She'll probably never offer me work again....

All is not lost, though, as I keep telling those pesky squirrels! Piegate 2004 went well, I opted for apple as the alternate pie this year--despite my personally not being an apple pie fan--and it was a rousing success. It's all in the apple choice, I think. I went with Stayman Winesaps, a very hard and slightly tart apple. My usual problem with apple pies is that they're either really mushy, or really flavorless, or both. This pie was neither. I picked up a bag of Ida Reds at the orchard as well, and I'm tempted to make another pie next weekend just to see how they do. Or maybe baked apples.

Back on the political front, I'm pleased to announce my discovery of The Moderate Republican, a blog devoted to the effort to drag my chosen party back toward center. I'm actually not sure it's possible, but I'm so glad someone's trying! I literally found it on the very day I was websearching information on how to withdraw my voter registration from the Republican party, and it stayed my hand. For a while, anyhow.

It's ALMOST Like Being Famous....

My college housemate has become quite the force to be reckoned with in this here Blogosphere; his political rantings--full of well-reasoned argument, bereft of capital letters--have attracted him a hell of a lot of readers from the leftist and liberal side of the fence. Now he's moved up to the next level of bloggery fame and fortune.... He's posting on Atrios this week. Somehow he has conned one of the scions of the liberal blogging world into giving him the keys to the Cadillac. While I don't actually read Atrios that often, I've heard of him, and that's saying a lot considerin' that the only political blogs I read regularly are Housemate's and Fafblog. My hipness quotient on political blogging is remarkably low, yet even I know of Atrios. So the upshot is, if you're at all interested in politics, and want to make my friend look good, go drive up the hits on Atrios this week! It'll make The Noz look important! Which by extension makes ME important! Because it's all about who you know!

The Bejeweled Steering Wheel of Glory

The Bejeweled Steering Wheel of Glory
Originally uploaded by hamaker88.

Glorious Victory!

Today was the 7th Annual Formula De Tournament here in gamerland, and here, in my living room, sits the world's finest travelling trophy. Yes. An unbeliveable come-from-behind win has taken me from the Hubcap of Shame (2002) and 4th Place (2003) to victory lane. I'm drinking a glass of milk right now.

OK, so I may not have a toast icon of the BVM,* but all in all.... I'd rather have the trophy. If you want a detailed accounting of this amazing annual event, check my game blog, Dark's Carnival.

(* the toast thing yesterday reminded me of when I first got to Loyola for grad school; every time I'd walk to the humanities building, I'd pass by about 6 parking spots that had large signs reading "PARKING FOR BVM ONLY." Now, they meant that the parking was reserved for nuns; the sisters of the Blessed Virgin Mary are the female counterpart to the Jesuits. But it didn't say that. It just said that the parking was reserved for the BVM, which brought to mind two questions: 1. Why would she need more than one parking space? and more importantly, 2. What kind of car would she drive? A BMW?)

...And Then I Found Moses on a Fried Egg Sandwich!

Once again the wisdom of FAFBLOG has convinced me that I am, without a doubt, in the wrong business. If only I examined my foods more carefully before eating them, I too might have an eBay auction for a grilled cheese sandwich with the image of the Blessed Virgin Mary, starting at $3000. Why, Lord? Why don't you send me marketable images of your earthly representatives on baked goods? Am I not worthy? This woman won $70,000 at a casino with the help of Our Lady of the Toaster--I wouldn't need that much, Lord. A cool $30 grand would be fine. I'm not greedy.

What To Do When You Don't Know What To Do...

Blog, obviously. It's difficult; I find myself wanting to post election-related anger and frustration on a semi-regular basis, and yet I know that repetition doesn't make the heart grow fonder, and there's nothing really new to say. I'm still reading dumb "screw the red states" stuff on the net, and it's still pissing me off... I'm horrified by the nomination of Mr. "The Geneva Convention--what's that?" Gonzales for Atty General. And this, courtesy of Upyernoz, holy crap. But all is not lost; the world turns, the sun comes out, it's only four years, and we are only tiny parts of a vast tapestry of history that trends, over the long term, toward the more tolerant, the more reasonable, the finer and better parts of humanity. Or so I'd like to think. Check this out. It's a column from the Tribune citing a few interesting statistics about how Americans' opinions on social issues have changed in the last 40 years. Thanks, Eric Zorn, for providing a breath of perspective during a rough patch in America's move toward an enlightened society. Sometimes, when we want change RIGHT NOW, it's hard to remember these things.

Since I did a few political posts and rants, my hit count jumped! Figure that. Strangely, when I blog about bacon omlettes and canoe trips, the hits drop off. I'm not talking here about people who actually know me, mind you. I know you guys'll read whatever dull anecdotes I slap up here! Thanks! But I live for finding out that I'm Google's #1 site for the phrase "bacon omlette." (I'm not. I just checked.) I think what really did it was the "I Voted For Kerry" thing back on Nov. 2; dozens of people are googling that, both in and out of blogspot.

Speaking of dull anecdotes, I dropped a clipboard into the shark tank this week. Fortunately it has a grease pencil attached to it by a piece of tubing, so that floated tantalizingly on the surface even as the clipboard with its feed charts was drifting slowly down through the water column. I dove to my knees and grabbed it just before it all sank beyond my grasp, saving me from having to go to the keepers and say, "Errr.... I've done it again." (Well, I haven't dropped a clipboard before. Last time it was my keys.) All's well that ends well, other than the bruises incurred from flinging self down on rough-textured aluminum catwalk. At least I gave the patrons a good show.

pin available at http://chaosium.com

elder-party-pinx
Originally uploaded by hamaker88.

The Horror....The Eldrich Horror....

I know it's a bit late, but I just received a transcript of my favored presidential candidate's concession speech. I'm reprinting it here as follows:
SCENE: ELDER PARTY HEADQUARTERS
NEWSCASTER: (voice over) Well, it seems with the early tallies strongly favoring incumbant president George W. Bush, the Elder Party spokescultists seem to be preparing to--wait! It looks as if Great Cthulhu himself is stepping to the podium!
(sounds of cheering, chanting)
GREAT CTHULHU: RRLLLGHTH BLLLRAAAR IARKK' SROOOOOOM KK'KK GRRAGHTH N'HAL!
TRANSLATOR: Great Cthulhu thanks you all for your support in this difficult campaign season!
GREAT CTHULHU: EEEGH'TAN MRAK BRFFUK HURM HURM F'THAN NEEGASH!
TRANSLATOR: Great Cthulhu states that he has already placed phone calls to both John Kerry and George W. Bush....
GREAT CTHULHU:GTHAN THAN BOOKRUG MEEF I'ANNETH PTNAG ZUTRUF GHET B'TANG BWA HA HA HA!!
TRANSLATOR: ....and that even now they are both being horribly devoured alive by His Spawn from Beyond the Stars! (wild cheering)
GREAT CTHULHU: IG BTOO MRAK a'WANAA SPIFF PLTAK BRNK...
TRANSLATOR: Great Cthulhu says that no Elder God could wish for a more devoted and loyal group of follwers....
GREAT CTHULHU: PTFF ZZZ'NAP KRST RRG DR'IA IA B'NATH BYAK SNMMM HO'TAK.
TRANSLATOR: ....which is why He looks forward to tormenting and consuming each and every one of you this evening! (more cheering, followed by sounds of gruesome carnage.)
Well, you head it here first, folks. America chose GW Bush over the Party of Mass Destruction... Go Figure.

More Electoral College Fun!

Here's some food for thought, elaborating further on my earlier post.

25,925467 voters in "Red States" voted for Kerry.
26,078,253 voters in "Blue States" voted for Bush.

That's over 50 million Americans disenfranchised by our electoral system. When you take just the votes for the winners in each state, it adds up to about 62.5 million votes that actually count for something when the electoral votes are cast. Now, as it happens, the % margin between Bush and Kerry in that tally is roughly that of the general popular vote nationwide--53% for Bush, 47% Kerry. This at least reassures me that the electoral votes are apportioned more or less properly. But does that mean it's a good system?

The argument for keeping the E.C. system in the US is that it allows low-population states to retain some power that they would lose if it were a straight popular system. I'm not sure I buy that in general--what power is that, exactly? Whether its 5 electoral votes or 850,000 popular votes, Utah still carries about the same % weight in the grand total. So the candidates in a straight popular system would concentrate their efforts in our most populous states--New York, California, Ohio, Illinois, Pennsylvania, Florida. How is that different from the present system, where 90% of the candidates' efforts are concentrated on the larger so-called swing states--such as Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Florida.....? If anything, I think a change to a straight popular vote (or even a system wherein the electoral votes are apportioned by % of total votes within a state, as Nebraska does) would force candidates to spread their attention more evenly across the country, trying to pick up voters wherever they can instead of writing off the voter base in states that traditionally lean in one direction or the other. The argument against THAT is that campaign costs would spiral out of control. News flash, though--they already are. Kerry and Bush combined spent over 4 billion on this campaign, by one estimate I heard today. Think of all that money could have done elsewhere. The answer to this is to regulate campaign financing tightly,by restricting the amount candidates can spend on media blitz and travel (how much jet fuel was wasted in the last week by frantic glad-handing attempts in multiple states by both candidates and their running mates? My god.) This would then in turn make it possible for third party candidates, and--gasp!--even normal folk to run for political offices on an even footing without fear of bankrupting themselves. Why are we Americans, of either party, settling for this deeply flawed, disenfranchising, money-wasting system of election? We could have better. We deserve better.

Who, Exactly, are "Them"?

I know we're all having a bad day today.... so I resisted putting a comment on Jane's blog because I knew it wouldn't come off as lighthearted. But I guess it just bothers me that a lot of the commentary I'm reading today characterizes the red state voters as uneducated country yokels. First off, we're not. Nearly a million people in Indiana voted for Kerry. Nearly three million in Texas did. More Hoosiers voted for Kerry than did Connecticutians. But thanks to the electoral college system, not a damn one of those votes mattered.

But what's really important is that the people who did vote for Bush--be they in rural areas of Indiana, or the 4 million Californians who no doubt feel just as disenfranchised as I do--had their reasons for voting the way they did. The Democrats can blame it all they want on people not "getting the message," but what it really comes down to is that they're not relating to the average American voter. "Mrs. Noz" pointed out in an email that there's a perception of the current Democratic party candidates as coastal elitists, who look down upon the inland rural voters, and they quite rightfully resent that. (Hell, I resent it and I voted for them anyway!) Until the Democrats address this notion, instead of just shrugging off the rural voter with a "we know what's best for you" attitude, they'll never gain a foothold in an agricultural state. She also made an excellent point about morality; namely that the Republican party has become the party of morality by their contstant beating of the abortion and gay marriage tom-toms. Democratic positions on health care, environmental policy, economic equality and the war in Iraq all have a strong moral component. Yet somehow they fail to articulate these things as moral issues, and end up losing the vote of the average American who considers moral values an essential part of national policy. (Hopefully Mrs. N doesn't mind me stealing largely from her email today, but she articulated something I'd been trying to put my finger on for a large part of this campaign.... it was one of the only bright spots in this dismal day.)


I love the midwest, I love everything about living here; I don't want to leave. I want the tone of politics in general to change, for both parties to strive for inclusion rather than exclusion; I want all the voters of Indiana and all the other non-swing states to feel that both parties have something to offer them. I want the agricultural backbone of America to be neither a tool for the right, or an embarassment for the left. I want a lot of things that aren't going to come true any time soon. Maybe someday, though.

"Honey, it's Bill again...."

I called Jeremy and Becky last night to offer Becky my positive thoughts on her tenure review. Jeremy answered the phone. I said, "Hey Jeremy, it's Cathy!" He said, "Hey Cathy! Thank god, I was afraid you were Bill Clinton." See what I miss, not living in a swing state? Apparently they, and presumably thousands of others in PA, OH, WI, MN, etc. have been getting non-stop phone calls in recent days from various pre-recorded public figures asking them to give their vote to Kerry or Bush. Clinton has apparently called Jeremy multiple times:
JEREMY: Hello?
PHONE: (brief pause.) Hello, this is Former President Bill Clinton. I'm calling to tell you how important--
JEREMY: God dammit! (hangs up.)
No one EVER calls me. Well, I mean, obviously some people call me--but not former presidents or New York mayors. Alex in Chicago got a letter from Ed Koch, endorsing President Bush; he thinks the Republicans got a list of all the Jewish-sounding names in Chicago for a direct appeal, since apparently the Jewish American community is somewhat split on Bush. Alex isn't Jewish, and like me was one of the Republican minority at Vassar who has since stopped actually voting for Republicans. So Ed's wasting his ink there.

There was an interesting election-day search on blogspot today; you could do a search within blogspot.com for the phrase "I voted for Kerry" or "I voted for Bush." At first glance it was stunning--47 hits for the Kerry question, 110 for Bush! But then I looked at the actual context for the phrase... the entire first page of hits on google for Bush were people explaining why they'd voted for Bush in the last election. Many of them (in the brief google snippet) appeared to be regretting their decision. So who knows? A month ago I was fairly confident that Kerry had the win, figuring that no one who voted for Gore last time would vote for Bush this time around, and enough people who were appalled at the job W is doing would turn to Kerry that it would provide a clear majority. But now I'm less certain. I keep hearing about traditional democrats who are somehow inexplicably attracted to Bush, for religious reasons or whatever. Argh. Arrrrgh! This is going to be a loooooong day. I voted already, naturally. It's steady rain here, since early this morning. The town hall is warm, brightly lit, has 4 little voting booths and an optical scan machine, neighbors from both parties chatting amiably, and there were bagels, coffee, cookies, apples, and biscotti on a table. While I was there, a guy with a little kid brought in a package of Newman's Own Organic Chocolate Cookies (guess how HE'S voting...) and the tiny boy passed them around to all the poll workers while his dad was filling in the bubbles. I know most polling places aren't like this, but I'm sure glad mine is. Happy election day, everyone! I hope.

MmmMMMmm! Lard!

Went back to the corn maze on Friday night. It wasn't raining, and I got to see a lot more of the maze; it had rooms, and more people in costumes this time. I got told I "smelled like dinner" by a teenage guy in a hockey mask. I got followed around by a woman in creepy clown makeup with a rubber knife. There were plenty of people there who were screamingly scared. Maybe I'm getting jaded, or old.....or probably both. But for me, the scariest part of the evening took place after we'd left the corn maze and gone to seek out dinner at a Greek diner in Columbus. It used to be a Waffle House, which used to be a HoJo's, and it combines salient features of all three. I've never ingested so much cholesterol at one sitting in my life--who knew there was such a thing as a bacon omlette? With hash browns, 2 pancakes, and a side of corned beef hash? God allmighty it was good. And I was so, so very sick for the rest of the night. Mmmm.

Shiver Me Timbers, Matey!

There are few things in life so liberating as a pirate costume. I've been a costumed character before--my most famous role was the Humana Women's Hospital Stork. But working at this year's Zoo Boo was the most fun I've had in ages. Not only did I get to look like a pirate, and talk like a pirate, but little kids actually BELIEVED I was a pirate! No one at the health fair ever believed I was a real stork. I invited countless 4 year olds to "join me pirate crew," and offered them a share o' me treasure (tricker treatin' candy.) I pointed to the rubber skeleton in the shark tank and solemnly informed them, "That be what happens to a pirate who can't swim." In return I got giggles, looks of awe, and got to see two of the funniest costumes ever. One was a kid who couldn't have been more than 5, dressed as Elvis--late Elvis, with the huge sideburns and oversize glasses. Those are some sick parents.... The other one was teeny, like maybe 3 or 4, dressed like a giant trout. From the front he was just kind of white, with a pointy head; then he walked past me, and there's this huge poofy stuffed fish tail and body kind of waving back and forth as he walked. I almost fell over laughing, it totally destroyed my pirate demeanor for about 30 seconds. Arrrr.... That be a good one.

I'm trying to resist the impulse to political post as the election draws closer, but it's hard. This new "Wolves" commercial from the Bush campaign pisses me the hell off. Not only is it a feeble attempt at fearmongering, but it strikes yet another blow to the environmental movement's attempts to re-educate the public about real wolves. Nice going, Mr. "I'm a good steward of the land." Only if the land doesn't contain any trees, plants, or animals on it. Pbbt.

The Joys of Marginal Living

There are few perks to having your employment situation in flux, but one of them is my ability to still be in my pajamas drinking coffee at 10:30 on a Monday morning. Another is the fact that I didn't have to make any special arrangements at all to accomodate the Heating Repair Guy's visit to relight my pilot light today. I wondered why it seemed so cold in here lately.... So since I've got no heat, other than the sketchy electric wall heater on the porch that will probably eventually cause my death, they're going to come by sometime today to relight the olympic flame within my ancient boiler. I'd do it myself, but a) I can't figure out where the pilot light actually IS, and b) I'd rather not blow up.

So my new Action Lifestyle (TM) has continued apace since the canoe inaugurated me into the world of adventure! I've.....er.....ok, so the week wasn't all that exciting. I began a much needed overhaul of my painting webpage. (It's not done yet, so no comments about "this link is broken" "that picture won't load", etc. are necessary.) I started painting a new army for Wargods of Aegyptus, and it's not dwarves. I drove around Crown Hill cemetary with some friends and finally found Dillinger's grave--I'd missed it the last time I was there. And Thursday night was the annual piligrimage with the southside gang to a local haunted house, though this year it was actually a haunted corn maze. Yes--the corn itself is haunted. It was actually pretty cool, about 2 acres worth of cornfield with a huge and fairly complex maze mowed into it. Navigating it in the pitch dark was highly entertaining, and for some reason I ended up in the front of our little party of five. I tried to explain to my fraidy companions that the person in front is in the least danger--the spooks wait until person #1 passes them before they leap out from between the cornstalks--but they heeded me not at all. So we wandered around, getting muddy and disoriented by the occasional strobe lights within the labyrinth. We were impeded slightly by the rain, which went from a gentle sprinkle to a steady patter over the course of an hour, and finally a nice young gentleman in a hockey mask with a chainsaw politely asked us if we'd like to be guided out of the maze so we could dry out. We ended up standing by a bonfire, still getting rained on but in a warmer way, drinking hot chocolate and enjoying ourselves. So I guess my week was not completely adventure-free! October is the bestest month, for sure.

16 feet of adventure!

16 feet of adventure!
Originally uploaded by hamaker88.

Just Call Me Mr. Danger!

I know that for most people, the words "Adventure" and "Cathy" are synonymous. It should come as no surprise then that I've been coveting the canoes and kayaks at the outfitter store in Broad Ripple all summer. I'd pretty much decided that me affording a canoe (even a used one) was about as likely as, say, Hal publishing his dissertation on the Origin of Catfood. Then, lo and behold! I'm walking past the outfitters a week ago Friday, and before me, sparkling like a shiny Royalex sapphire, is This Boat. Knowing I can't afford it, I take a casual look at the price tag.... and discover that I can, in fact, afford it. It's cheap, paddles are included, and I'm smitten. The next day I went back to mull it over and ask all sorts of smart questions about it. Before I knew what was happening, they'd thrown in a roof rack and I'd handed over my credit card.

I'd been planning a camping/hiking trip with RG for Sunday; when I called her up and told her about the canoe, she said "I can't believe you did that. You're nuts. Ooooh--we could go canoe camping!" Fortunately she's an experienced canoer and camper, so I trusted her utterly..... Right up to the point when it was pitch dark, 40 degrees out, and we were still paddling around the lake trying to find the intended campsite. Then my faith wavered. But only slightly! Within minutes of our agreement that maybe we should give up on the intended campsite, we'd made landfall, gotten a fire started, tent pitched, and dinner going. I wasn't even in total agonizing pain the next morning from all that paddling! Yep. An Adventurer is Me.

We also stopped at the Oliver Winery en route to the lake. This is not because we are wine buffs, but because Indiana's blue laws prevent the sale of alcohol on Sundays--except at small private wineries such as this one. The place is lovely, and the wine was excellent... as excellent as wine can be, really, considering it's not beer.

So yeah, Hal better call his publisher. It'll be a short book, though--"It comes from a tupperware tub in the bathroom closet. The End."

The Red Tie, or the Blue Tie...

Well, I opted against the Presidential Debate Drinking Game. Following the rules laid out in yesterday’s paper, I would already be crocked, and it’s only 30 minutes in.

I’m watching the debates, but not because I’m undecided about who to vote for. Perish the thought! I know who NOT to vote for.... but since I don’t actually watch network television or CNN, I’ve never actually heard John Kerry speak. I was pretty impressed with Howard Dean back during the primaries, mainly because he was the only one I ever caught an interview with on TV (and that was an accident. I hate TV media. Hate it hate it hate it. I get all my news from print media.... well, and Jeremy. And Fafblog.) But never saw Kerry or Edwards speak. I think that even were he to utterly bomb these debates, I could still vote for Kerry with a good conscience--one of those Lesser Evil things. But I’m pleased to see that I actually rather like him! I’m enjoying his little smiles during Bush’s commentaries; NBC, at least, is not holding with the debater demands, and there are lots of split-screen reaction shots. But if I hear Bush bring up the “wrong war wrong time wrong place” phrase one more time, holy crap.... I know I’m biased, but I do think Bush is not looking good here.

So who else wants to see a debate between Teresa Heinz Kerry and Laura Bush? I would SO buy tickets for that. I bet Teresa would whip Laura’s butt. Or--wait! Teresa Heinz Kerry vs. George Bush, followed by Laura Bush vs. John Kerry! Back to back mixed-doubles card fight! Oh yessss..... Why don’t they put me in charge of these things?

halbelly.JPG

halbelly.JPG
Originally uploaded by hamaker88.

In No Particular Order....

First off, my big doof of a cat, Hal, sprained his paw while loping around the house on Friday night. It got worse over the weekend, and Rat Girl kindly offered to assist me in taking him to the vet on Monday morning. The vet is a wonderful guy, everything went fine, Hal got a cortisone shot and behaved remarkably well. Well, that is, until we got home and set him down for .5 seconds to close the door before removing his leash. He rocketed up the stairs, the leash caught on the bannister, clotheslined him about halfway up, and he crashed back down on top of two gallons of water I had sitting on the steps for refilling the fish tank. One of them exploded, water went everywhere, and he went running back up the stairs to the extent of the still trapped leash and stared at me, white-eyed and trembling, with a look that said "This is All Your Fault." It was spectacular, though not in a good way. It took him the better part of 48 hours to recover emotionally. This morning, both his limp and his demeanor are improved.

I'm happy to announce my good job news, hinted at in a previous post; I'm now working part-time back in the hobby industry, for a company called Crocodile Games. For those who aren't quite so geeky as me and my fellow gamer nerds--basically they make small metal toy soldiers which people buy unpainted; they then paint them and use them to play tabletop wargames. In the Croc's case, the genre is kind of a fantasy Egyptian thing, with jackal-headed troops and bipedal crocodiles. The game is quite good, actually, I like it better than Warhammer, and the miniatures are great! The company has been doing great business since my friend Fitz started it back in '01, so much so that they've now got more orders than he and his partner can effectively handle. So I'm there to help them start the transition from being essentially a one-man operation to being a serious player in the hobby industry. It could come to nothing, or it could mean that a year from now I'll be working full-time for a successful company, going to conventions around the country to rep for the game. We'll see.

Third, I taught myself to use Adobe Illustrator this weekend, with the welcome assistance of Li's book on the topic. Nice program, like a highly complex and flexible version of Appleworks Draw. Or MacDraw, remember that?

Last, my Coffee Bitch tells me she has got her hands on a cookbook that will teach her how to make architectural cakes of epic proportions. I've placed my order for a cake that looks like Chartres Cathedral. Get to work, Sally!

Dispatch from Planet Lockdown

This morning I headed down to the Children's Museum to pick up some stuff for the contract work I'll be doing for them in the next few months. As long as I was there, I took time to go visit my dad's ship model and the new Dinosphere exhibit; I stayed through the 20 minute "weather cycle" of the exhibit, then headed home. Passed a surprising # of police cars, and noticed that two news helicopters seemed to be circling the area above my neighborhood. "Great," think I, "something's up." Between the Children's Museum at 30th St., and my place almost due north at 54th, I passed about 8 cops, the last one being on one of the two bridges into my neighborhood. This was alarming enough--cop cars at each intersection for over a mile?--but was made more alarming by the fact that the cop was standing outside of his car, and was holding an assault rifle.

Apparently, at almost the precise moment when I was crossing Boulevard on 52nd, en route to the museum, a dude suspected of being a car burglar was being detained by one of the Butler University cops outside Hinkle Fieldhouse (at 49th and Boulevard.) Not wanting to be detained, the dude grabbed the officer's gun and shot him in the head. Had I had my window down, I would probably have heard the shot. Had I followed my usual pattern of going down Boulevard rather than Capitol to get to 30th St., I might well have witnessed the incident, or possibly would have seen the gentleman in question fleeing the scene into the neighborhood south of mine. By the time I came back north an hour later, the police had spread a dragnet (which I unwittingly drove through) around the area. They were even checking the trunks of people's cars as they came out of Rocky Ripple. I spent about 2 hours indoors, watching the local breaking news on TV (and hooray for our local station who blurted out the name of the fallen officer mere moments before the police official announced that he was in fact dead, and that they were witholding his ID pending notification of kin. Nice going, you jerks.) I turned it off when I saw the 4 second clip of the officer's ambulance arriving at the hospital for the 12th time.... and sure enough, I knew when the manhunt was over without benefit of TV because 2 unmarked cars went tearing down my street, lights blazing, and both cop cars left the bridges in a hurry. The gentleman with the gun had been flushed out of someone's backyard about a mile south of me, and the police gunned him down while every other cop within a 2 mile radius sped to the scene. I'm no doctor, but in the helicopter view of that scene, the guy looked pretty dead. So with that, the lockdown was lifted, and we could go about our business. I was free to go to the bank, and pick up my dry cleaning, and think about the fact that this beautiful fall day just became the worst day of numerous people's entire life. That's true every day, of course.... but it usually doesn't happen in my literal back yard.

OK, That's Just....Ick.

As I've mentioned before, I enjoy using Sitemeter to see who's reading my blog and how they found me. Sure, it kinda gives me the willies when I see someone's Googled my name--but that's nothing compared to the utter creepiness of this week's hit spike. Since posting about Wonder Woman, below, I have gotten multiple hits from people Googling the phrase "Lynda Carter chlorofirm."** Tracking this back, I discover that I am only one of many sites which mention those three words in near proximity (not too surprising.) But the #1 spots on Google's list are taken up by.... shudder.... guys posting on message boards about how these scenes in WW turn them on. Chlorofirm** as sex aid--who knew? Good thing it ISN'T available at Sam's Club! And today's discovery of note: I am the #1 site to come up on Google when some weirdo Googles "Bionik Womyn chlorofirm." **

Changing to a less peculiar topic, I did watch "High Society" this evening. While I'd agree that some of the musical numbers are worth hearing (Karen, I preferred the Celeste Holm/Sinatra duet about "who wants to be a millionaire") the movie itself has none of the sparkle and depth of the original "Philadelphia Story." I don't think it's just my natural prejudice in favor of the fab four in the main roles, either. The plot has been severely thinned to allow for the music, and C.K. Dexter Haven's character has been utterly changed. He's no longer a reformed alcoholic--which is why Tracey divorced him in the first place in PS--now he's a jazz song writer, which somehow was grounds for divorce in this film instead. So we go through the whole film thinking Tracey's an utter idiot for dumping Dex, and we know she'll go back with him because there's no reason NOT to. And Cary Grant's Dex takes great pleasure in tormenting Tracy, while Crosby makes it continually obvious he's madly still in love with her. Sinatra's bad boy image doesn't jive well with the Mike character, we don't see his passion for writing or his fascination with anything other than Grace Kelly's feminine assets.... I do like Celeste Holm, but she still lacks the sharp sardonic edge that Ruth Hussey brought to Liz. The girl who plays the little sister is funny, but a little more cutesy and less conniving than Virginia Weidler. Basically HS is not as razor-sharp or witty as PS, and its peculiar character/plot holes are hard for me to overlook just because of the music. A good musical should integrate its songs within the framework of a solid and interesting plot, and HS just doesn't. Guess I'm still out of the will.....

**I edited this post after the third time someone googled the above phrase (spelled right) and spent a considerable amount of time on my site. Stands to reason if you're a weirdo, you don't necessarily like being called a weirdo on the first site your search pulls up. So unless they bookmarked me, they won't be finding this site again. Shudder.