Thursday, May 27, 2010

Going to visit Mum is not always a bad thing

Going to visit Mum is not always a bad thing.

It was time for blood tests and Dr visits.  (Who knew being anaemic could be so tiring.)  Blah, blah, routine, blah.
Pardon me for not getting into the specifics of my medical history on the interwebz, but it just was not all that interesting to me.

But, so, my mum.

Not always the best communicator in the world.  She has sprung some surprises on me that I doubt she will ever surpass, but you would think she would warn me about taking me to a wedding.

She said it was "last minute" - but I know she just loves that last-minute shopping emergency.  (Well, you need a new dress, and new shoes, and a hat, and a purse.)  I asked who's wedding it was because depending, I would be better suited in a black leather mini and six inch stilettos.
    "Don't be silly.  Even with six inch heals, you'd still be the shortest person in the room, so what's the point?"
After I picked my jaw back up off the floor, she reminded me that I only got half my sense of humour from my dad.

So, what was the style? Socialite? No.  Fashionista? No.
    Norman Rockwell.

Gee, Mother Dearest, I did not think you knew any "normal" people.

Moving on, Mum totes me along, all dolled up,  to the wedding of a friend of a friend of hers.  Like, a real, church wedding.  With a real reception and everything.
    Yeah, so, normally I feel like this fear of bursting into flames when I visit a church, or that by walking into one, I make it dirty in some way.  This time, I did not feel that way.  This place did not seem like a church.  It did not _feel_ like one.  Granted, I did _not_ go do the communion thing.  I just stayed put.  I am a champ at that.

Well, sometimes I think I am just being a little paranoid, but I think I really have a grip on when I am being looked at - not just because I do not like to be, but because I (think I am) an observant person.  Maybe because I was dressed like someone from another century.  Maybe because I was there with Mum.  I don't know, but it was not like people were looking at me like I had a third head or anything - or that they could hear my internal monologue.  (Notice I did not say "hear the voices in my head."  That would be crazy.)

The bride's dress was amazing.  Really pretty.  I feel kinda sorry for the bridesmaids... their dresses were really nice too, but kinda purpose-built.  They will never really be able to wear them again.  Oh well.  Not my problem.

Moving on to the reception...

There was an open bar and (I cannot get horderves close enough for spell check to figure out what I am trying to spell) while the wedding party went through all that photo stuff.  I am most thankful it was not me.
Then the the happy (or doomed) couple comes around.  I see this old man over in the corner.  I was sure I would have noticed him before because of his uniform: WWII, I came to find out, but that is not important.  It was a really old man... alone... drinking.
I do not normally cling to the parental unit when at parties, but I was not sure who she told them I was, or who she was to anyone yet.  I mean, we sat on the bride's side, but neither of us had spoken to anyone.  I would have been very lonely if not for my constant cerebral passengers - but nevermind that.

(Oh, mercy - my backup drive just made a rather sick little sound when I just started backing up after my trip.)

Anywho, where was I.  Oh, yeah.  I did not want to say the wrong thing or whatever since I didn't know who we were supposed to be.  (Mercy. That sounds... weird.  Oh well, it made sense at the time.)
After waiting like an eternity, after much hoopla from the wedding party with introductions and toasts and whatnot, one of the bridesmaids comes over and talks to Mum.  This is our apparent connection to the event - the friend of a friend.  THEN I feel like a moron because I finally recognise one of the photographers.  But, so, anyway, Bridesmaid says to Mum, "I thought your daughter was in her teens."  I may have glared.  I am a brat that way. 
"She is," Mum says.
"Then she may want to meet some of the boys over... or is she..." Bridesmaid trailed off with a question mark.
What, 'is she...' ...only barely in her teens? ...taken? ...a mutant? ...not that way inclined?  Do I have to endure this here too?
Then Mum had one of her more glowing moments "She is not much of a mingler.  Gets that from her father but it keeps her out of trouble.  I don't have to worry about her."
Another guest commented with some kind of pride, "Mine is such a flirt.  She could not wait to check out the guys."
Mum said, "I'm sorry to hear that," but I think _someone_ had been hitting the bar too heavily to comprehend the comment for what it was through all the possible meanings.  (I found out later that Bridesmaid had complained to Mum in the past that her daughter (Chelsea, Kelsey, Marimba - I don't remember) was such a "flirt" that the authorities had to bring her home from "lookout-point."  She apparently got a kick out of the remark.)

So, I discretely work my way over to get a better view of the old soldier - via sideways glances and whatnot.  People come up to him and say how well he looks, how good it is to see him, etc. but there is no one just visiting with him.  His glass is empty and without even thinking about it, I go to get him another.
I saunter up to the bar and ask what the war vet was drinking and ask for a glass.  Bourbon. Neat. (Whatever that means.)  I have a smell, wrinkle my nose, and - with a shrug - turn to take it to the stranger.
I set it down, then back away to the next table over (where I had been before getting up to get him another drink.)  He looked at it for a while, then returned to staring out into the room at nothing in particular that I could discern.  Finally, he takes a drink, looks at the glass, nods, takes another.  He nurses that glass for a good thirty minutes before it is empty.  His head slowly starts to tilt and droop and soon he in dreaming.  I can watch him more plainly now.  He is kinda moving a little in his sleep and I get the impression that he is dancing.  This goes on for just a little while and he is still again.

There is the throwing of the bouquet, followed by the groom crawling under the bride's dress and removing her garter with his teeth.  (I was like, hello? Children present?)  After some more commotion, everyone files out to see the newly-weds off and pelt them with rice, or bird seed, or whatever the trend is now, and the old soldier wakes up.  The DJ seems to be starting to wind things down and I walk over and ask him for a waltz.  He asked me what I would like to hear and I said, "just a waltz.  It doesn't matter." 

The caterers were clearing the tables, the food, plates, glasses, linens.  There were a couple of people sitting with sleeping little ones.  And I walked over to the old man.  He looked up at me and looked puzzled.  I asked him if he would ask me if I would care to dance.  He stood up slowly, straightened himself up tall and proper, then escorted me to the dance floor where we danced the waltz through the end of the song and into the next. 

People flowed back into the banquet hall and watched us while they gathered their belongings and a few older couples joined us on the floor until we were no longer the centre of attention.

Only.... that did not really happen.  Maybe he fell asleep at some point, but I did not get him a drink.  He got his own.  And they started playing some tunes he apparently liked and he danced with an imaginary partner off to the side.  I sat and silently listened to comments about the sad, old, crazy man.  I wanted to shout at them.  I wanted to go dance with the guy.  But all I did was sit and try to keep my tears from messing up my makeup.  I am pathetic, but that is not as nice a story.

Mum asked me what was wrong and I couldn't even tell her.  Sorry, Mum.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Linux Mint 9 Released today!

Here is Isadora

It is Gnome based.

I downloaded it (the CD and the DVD) this morning and will probably install tonight or first thing in the morning.

Ah, but I may not install on my laptop until LXDE edition is out... Not the it is resource un-friendly, but I like to keep this OS as thins as ... I want.

(Note: Not as thin as I can.  That would be our file server.  It is like a "home-made NAS.")

Friday, May 14, 2010

Another Friday Instalment

Friday Instalment #2, but don't get too accustomed.

Well, here is a little bit of a paradoxical post... A Friday post to say that there will be no Friday post.

But, since I am posting anyway, I may as will talk about my week a bit.

Not sure why, but despite the snow and rain, I have had more energy.  I do not know if it is because I have been eating more(?) or what, but yeah.  On the other side of this, as I have been fencing and bike riding to burn off all this energy, Dad thinks I burned more calories than I added.

One night this week, we did something that I had not gotten to do for a while.  This guy, a friend of a friend sort of thing, was playing (guitar) at this coffee bar.  Yeah, going to a coffee bar is, like, near torture for me but I did behave - no caffeine. 
Anywho - the guy was good enough.  Kinda classical-jazz with a pinch of folk 12-string acoustic.  Most of the stuff was covers, sort of, (or, as he said, inspired-by's) with some more original work too.  Either way, I didn't, like, know any of it.

But it wasn't like when they had this Dave Mathews Wannabe with the amp turned up loud enough to cover up the lameness.  No, not Dave Mathews... That other one... Ben Harper?  Don't know, don't care.

Two different guys bought me drinks.  That was weird.  (Fruit non-smoothies.  No alcohol.)  Then, in response to some comment I could not hear, I heard my friend inform someone that I was not even legal yet.  I called him my knight in shining armour.  He said, "well, I am good with a sword."  (Oh, these were friends from my fencing club that I was there with.)

I am hoping for good bike riding weather this weekend.

Take Care

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

I cannot take credit for this test

Nor can I take responsibility for the answers, which I will post later (in the same post... I will edit it to include them.

World's Easiest Test

Why is it so easy? Instead of needing 80% to pass, you only need to get 30% correct answers to pass! Easy! Jot down your answers before scrolling down to check your score.
- - -
1) How long did the Hundred Years War last?
2) Which country makes Panama hats?
3) From which animal do we get catgut?
4) In which month do Russians celebrate the October Revolution?
5) What is a camel's hair brush made of?
6) The Canary Islands are named after what animal?
7) What was King George VI's first name?
8) What colour is a purple finch?
9) Where are Chinese gooseberries from?
10) What is the colour of the black box in a commercial aeroplane?

- - -

Okay, got your answers?  Ready to check them against the "official" test answers?

(If you have seen this, or tests like it, you know that all is not as one may think.)





1) How long did the Hundred Years War last?
  • 116 years
2) Which country makes Panama hats?
  • Ecuador
3) From which animal do we get cat gut?
  • Sheep and Horses
4) In which month do Russians celebrate the October Revolution?
  • November
5) What is a camel's hair brush made of?
  • Squirrel fur
6) The Canary Islands are named after what animal?
  • Dogs
7) What was King George VI's first name?
  • Albert
8) What colour is a purple finch?
  • Crimson
9) Where are Chinese gooseberries from?
  • New Zealand
10) What is the colour of the black box in a commercial aeroplane?
Yes, like tomorrow, I will have the answers below here.
Take Care

ps... in case you are wondering, it is kinda bugging me that there are not fifteen questions on the test.

Friday, May 7, 2010

A Friday instalment

I do not know if I am going to start, like, keeping a "Friday Blog" or anything like that to sum up my week or whatever, but I thought I ought to get some things out of my head.

-I have been giving some thought to a couple of possible Top Fifteen lists to work on. 
-Someone asked me if I have read any good books lately.  No.  Some okay books? yeah.
-If you want to look at some of the stuff I have read, check out my Shelfari (down there on the right).  There is another "lets talk about what we are reading" site that looks good, but I have already kinda set myself up here and have no real reason to leave.  One of the things about the site is you can ask other people if they should read this book or that.  So, someone had asked if they should read this one book.  I liked the book.  It had more ... graphic ... descriptions of sex than I had read from that particular author, but I took it all in stride.  I had read worse.  (I mean better... I mean - nevermind.) So I am looking through this person's bookshelf.

    1 - I was not really "old enough" for that level of detail myself when I read it. (I am still not, if you ask me, but that is not stopping me. hehehe)
    2 - It was unexpected based on other things I had read from the author
    3 - This person has not, from what I can tell, read anything with this kind of explicit description
    4 - This person has read some of the other books by this author that I had read, thus causing the surprise

Now, I had read some adult books by some adult authors.  Moreover, I have read adult romance books by adult romance writers.  But this is kind of like... author crossover.  It is not a "romance novel" but it is about more of the "grown-up" coming of age subjects and the choices made by young adults with no vagueness about some of the decisions made.

Now, looking at some other books. Lets just say a random fiction book.  Not from the YA section, not from the NC-17 section - just a book.  
    1 - Two adults, unmarried, unattached, there is a good chance that they will have sex.
    2 - This may be implied or explicit.
    3 - This may or may not be integral to the plot.

I asked Dad once, in one of those times where I took advantage of the open-door "if you ever have questions, pleas come to me" standard, ... Let me start that over for clarity.  I asked Dad, "If grown-ups just have sex when there is nothin better to do, what is the big fuss over the proverbial wearing white for the wedding?"  After he recovered from shock, he said that it does not always happen like that. Of course, then he wanted to know what I had been reading, so I told him.  He was like, "Oh, yeah... umm..." because he had just taken it all in stride when he had read them.

So, how do I say, "Hey, yeah, the book was funny and fun and well written, but fast forward through pages 120,122 and 286?"  I have no idea if this person it ten, twenty, or.... idk.  Do I assume that I am none the worse for it and say "Go for it!" Or do I say, "Wait until you are older, for mercy's sake!"  Or do I go into, "Well now, I am not sure about your reading experience, but..."  I really do not want to even bring it up because, like, for me, that was not what the book was about and I do not want to give the impression that the book is cover to cover trash talk.  It wasn't.  It was good. (Not that these are mutually exclusive.) Yeah, if you made a film of the book, there would have to be creative camera angles to keep it only "r" rated.  maybe pg-13 or whatever with edits.  But what if this person is just ...

IF, there were some other books in her lib that had scenes like this, I would say "yeah" and not even think about bring up the "special" parts.

I suppose the root of this is that I kinda mentally blow by things in books, that kinda freak me out when I have to think about them.

Take Care,

Saturday, May 1, 2010

Oh, yeah, let me get right on that.

When I first started blogging, I figured it would just be an outlet for me to let some stuff out.  Personal stuff that I am not really comfortable talking about with anyone who knows me.  Whatever.  But I wanted to have fun too, and so there were the TopFifteen lists and what not.  I have no problem with that.

I mean, my blog: my mind and whatever is on it.
(Not my brain and whatever is on it, that would be spiderwebs.)

I did not want, and still do not want this to be a place for me to just complain about stuff.

And yet
(Oh, wait... gonna go tweet this song) (okay, I'm back)
And yet, here I am.

So I have fussed a little about the advertisement twitter accounts.  Capitalism at its best - no - not at its best... at its prolificatoniest.  There is probably a word for what I am trying to say, but I don't know it.

I have gotten these e-mails - you have too, you bloggers out there:
"We stumbled on your blog 'Fascist Furries of South Side Chicago' while looking for stuff on hotels in Paraguay and awarded your site first prize!  Our site gets so many hits per second that they are trying to invent a new word for it, and we will link your site on ours, if you link our site on yours because you are tres chic and have a bajillian hit."

No.  I have -->

12 Oct 2009 to 28 Apr 2010: 513 visits shown above
Statistics updated 1 May 2010@08:40GMT: 545 visits
Total since 12 Oct 2009: 545. Previous 24hrs: 5.

I mean thank you all who stop by... most of whom probably do it by accident, then turn and run before you catch something (you know who you are) but really.  I think 5/day is actually kinda a busy day for my blog.

I May be jaded, or gun-shy, because I think that most people are just, well not malicious by nature, just not nessesarily...

Oh, wait, it is me.  I am paranoid and think that everyone out there has mal-intent. That explains a lot. 

(did spell check break or is 'malintent' not a word?)


So... If you read all that, and here now looking for the joke in all this, let me not be one to dissapoint:
     Two blonds walk into a bar.  The brunette ducked.

Take Care