Ramblings:
No. No, I do not feel well. Not like, I feel sick, because that is just kind of normal. I am grumpy and grouchy and miserable.
I am not ready for all this daylight and sunshine. I want dark and snow and cold to keep on lasting. Maybe I can spend then summer in Antarctica - if they have internet.
My fingernails need trimming.
There. Now they are trimmed and have that uncomfortable, hard edge that takes most of a day to wear down.
Internet streaming radio is not being agreeable and nothing in my collection is interesting to me right now.
I have picked up and put back down about half a dozen books after reading the first few pages. I would sat that I want to go to the library, but I doubt I would find anything to hold my interest today.
I want to cook something, but I do not know what. Maybe I will go make some bread or something. We always have bread-makings.
Well... it is in the oven.
I had started to saute garlic, onion and rosemary for no good reason so I added it to brown rice and then an egg for good measure. Not the strangest “fried rice” I have made, but at least the house smells good.
Bread is out of the oven and cooling. Yes, I am going to have a piece. And we are definitely having sandwiches for dinner.
Things that irritate me:
When I am about to do something, then someone tells me to do that thing which I was about to do and insists that I would never do that thing if I was not constantly reminded.
“Elqueue, bring down your bathroom trash.”
“I am, Mum.”
“No you weren’t, you were going to the kitchen.”
“Yeah, to get a new liner.”
“You could have just taken it with you after bringing the trash.”
“But then I would have to go back to the bathroom and I wasn’t planning on doing that any time soon.”
“No need to be a brat about it. I was just reminding you, or it would never get done.” “Try me.” -- except I did not say that... out loud.
Similar to that is being reminded of something more than once before having the opportunity to do whatever it is.
“Don’t forget to return the library books.”
“Yeah, I’m going there tomorrow.”
“Okay, well, be sure to take your returns with you.”
“Uh... sure.”
(An hour or so later...)
“Be sure to return your library books tomorrow.”
“Would you feel better if I returned them now?”
“Don’t be a brat about it. Just put them where you won’t forget them.”
“Like, in my backpack? Where they already are?”
“That’s fine, as long as you don’t forget your backpack.”
Being told to be careful... when they really me, stop being a klutz.
“Be careful!”
“I am.”
“Then what was that noise I heard?”
“I dropped a fork in the sink.”
“Yeah, and be careful. You didn’t need to do that.”
Being told my arbitrary decisions do not make sense.
“Why did you do it that way?”
“I didn’t think it mattered.”
“It doesn’t, but that way doesn’t make sense.”
“How would you like me to do it?”
“Do it however you want, but be sensible about it.”
I asked Dad if she was like that when they lived together. He said no, but her mum was like that as long as he’d known her.
No, I do not still live with Mum - not even during the summer, like I had been. Partly for the issues listed above, but... more because I like it at home. I mean, sure, there are days Dad and I hardly talk to each other, but even then, I think we are still closer than Mum and I ever were. Sure, I love my mum and all, but I seem to relate better with my daddy.
This whole thing is probably more ... personal than I want to post, so I am not sure I am going to.
Oh. Looks like I am going to.
Showing posts with label feeling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label feeling. Show all posts
Monday, March 21, 2011
Friday, December 10, 2010
It's Friday + a dream
Well, part of a dream - but I'll get to that later.
First:
Yeah, there have been updates to LMDE (Linux Mint Debian Edition) and so, and all the groovy updates promised. The big one I am waiting for is the 64bit release.
I mean, am I wrong or will this require a new iso? Everything else, yeah, great, I can get through updates. Well, not exactly everything. They said they made improvements to the installer, so I need to run the installer if I want to check them out.
So I am waiting (kinda) patiently for the new 64bit iso of LMDE. But I will be all excited when it is out - probably blog all about it and stuff.
Second:
As some of you are well aware, my - er, Dad's - house plays holiday host for the holidays. People were over for Thanksgiving, and typically we get everyone again for Christmas-New Years. Yup, that's right, a week+ of "house guests."
Every time, I work hard to make sure the house is ready for everyone. Then Mum comes and re-does it all - like it was her house. So, "Why do I do it, knowing this?" you may ask. I just have to. If for no other reason than when Mum comes and moved things, there are not those "clean" spots where things were, you know? Everything is clean before she touches it. Then I have to re-clean after they go to, uh, get "them" off things.
I am doing something different this year. I am completely rearranging the house full stop. Totally mixed up the chi or whatever. Couch - over there. Radio - there. Book case - (unloaded) over there (reloaded). Etc, etc. Even the kitchen is all rearranged.
The point of all this? To change things so radically that Mum will actually _notice_ that I am taking care of it. This is still a work in progress, so we'll see how it goes. It may backfire on me and drive me nuts. Oh, and for the record, yeah, I even am doing the bedrooms.
And, third:
Before I get to the actual "dream" part of this, you gotta know the setup.
In the past, I have had (bad) dreams about waking up next to Dad in bed and (bad) dreams about waking up next to him in bed that felt so real that I ran screaming into his room waking him up with a hockey stick. Being a bit of a sleep walker, I have actually woken up in Dad's bed, being... uh... poked in the back of the leg by him*. That was a fright and he ended up getting kicked in the face before things settled down.
[edit: I should clarify that he was /sleeping/ when this happened, eh? Not his /fault/.]
Also, Amy shares my bed when everyone is over for the holidays. So, I am not completely unaccustomed to waking with someone else in bed. Now, on to the dream:
In the dream, I was dreaming about everyone being here for the holidays and having Amy around. Then, in the dream, I dreamed I woke up rather peacefully, just stretching in the sun-warmed sheets, face down and feeling the still-fresh linen against my skin. I was quickly and calmly aware of the weight of someone next to me, my skin against their smooth skin. I could feel the rhythm of their breathing and it was comforting. I kept my eyes closed against the persistent, bright sumer sun. I felt the curves of their - of her body and knew she was on her back; slight curve of breast against the my ribs. My skin felt cool against her warm body, soft and tender. I smiled from the comfort of it all as I finished my stretch then rolled to my side, away from my bedmate to look at her face. The scent was so familiar I could picture the form before me before I opened my eyes and found...
Claire.
That startled me awake for real. I should have known it was a dream from the light. There was too much light. Sunrise it not until like almost eleven. I had been expecting (in my dream) for it to have been Amy, so familiar and comfortable. I really believed my dream was real and Amy was next to me. I just knew it. Then to open my eyes and find Claire - I was instantly bombarded with new, Claire scents and rhythms. And that /light/. It was on the other side of Claire from me (well, no, it was all around such that the only things I could see were myself, the bed (and beddings) and Claire) and the light wrapped around her so tightly that I could only see her face - my mind filling in the rest of her from memory, vague and incomplete. At least she was smiling at me.
That was yesterday morning - Thursday. It kinda occupied my thoughts, leaving me lost to this distraction most of the day.
You know when you have an "off" day, right? And you can tell things are just not going the way they normally do. So, at fencing, I am off my game. Completely distracted. One guy who doesn't really beat me... doesn't really get touches on a normal day... beats me - twice - and starts talking to his buds about how much better he is because now he is better than me. He had extra toast with breakfast, and now he is better than me, so he is going to have extra toast before tournaments. He put on his right shoe first this time, so he is better than me and will now always put on his right shoe first. Some such nonsense.
On the other hand, the other, the really good fencers, are actually /more/ annoying. "Hey, there were a couple of opportunities in there you missed, thank goodness." Or, "Oh, my, I thought you were going to get me there... You normally get me with those." Etc, etc. Yeah, they could tell I was off my game, but they were trying to /help/. Even Coach started trying, but my mind just was not in it. I tried meditating, but oddly, it did not help.
Sheehs.
So, this is probably a fairly frustrating post for some of you. It touches on Linux, Family, Dreams, Fencing... if I... Oh, I think I will...
Here are the first fifteen tracks in my current playlist:
[0/2680] Lily Allen - Everything's Just Wonderful (03:29)
[1/6901] Book Of Love - I Touch Roses (Long Stemmed Version) (05:46)
[2/6891] Book Of Love - Late Show (03:38)
[3/3300] KT Tunstall - Hold On (02:58)
[4/3209] Katharine McPhee - Over It (03:35)
[5/3294] 32+-+KT+Tunstall+-+Hold+On.mp3 (02:47)
[6/6946] Everything But The Girl - Letting Love Go (04:46)
[7/6939] Everything But The Girl - Driving (04:00)
[8/4235] Yaz - And On (03:12)
[9/5702] Garbage - Wicked Ways (03:44)
[10/5660] Garbage - Cup Of Coffee (04:31)
[11/3221] Katy Perry - I Kissed A Girl (03:00)
[12/3299] KT Tunstall - Funnyman (02:56)
[13/6902] Book Of Love - Boy (Extended Mix) (04:29)
[14/3121] Gabriella Cilmi - Einstein (03:40)
Oh, Mercy... somethings in that list should be omitted. :blush:
I just finished reading The Ghost and the Goth by Stacey Kade. It was a good and light teen candy book. I have these "Candy Books" that I read from time to time. Most are Teen, or YA books, but they are fun without having a lot of weight, you know? Why I Let My Hair Grow Out, The first HP book, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, In the Stone Circle, the first Twilight book (Uh, I guess that would be Twilight) and about anything by Meg Cabbot. I mean, there are other "light reading" books I have and like and whatnot. The Pern Series, some Piers Anthony, Dresden Files, Girl Vs Evil and whatnot. But these are not like my "deep reading" like Time Travelers Wife, or Never Let Me Go, etc.
Okay... lots of topics to post for one day. Have fun...
LQ
First:
Yeah, there have been updates to LMDE (Linux Mint Debian Edition) and so, and all the groovy updates promised. The big one I am waiting for is the 64bit release.
I mean, am I wrong or will this require a new iso? Everything else, yeah, great, I can get through updates. Well, not exactly everything. They said they made improvements to the installer, so I need to run the installer if I want to check them out.
So I am waiting (kinda) patiently for the new 64bit iso of LMDE. But I will be all excited when it is out - probably blog all about it and stuff.
Second:
As some of you are well aware, my - er, Dad's - house plays holiday host for the holidays. People were over for Thanksgiving, and typically we get everyone again for Christmas-New Years. Yup, that's right, a week+ of "house guests."
Every time, I work hard to make sure the house is ready for everyone. Then Mum comes and re-does it all - like it was her house. So, "Why do I do it, knowing this?" you may ask. I just have to. If for no other reason than when Mum comes and moved things, there are not those "clean" spots where things were, you know? Everything is clean before she touches it. Then I have to re-clean after they go to, uh, get "them" off things.
I am doing something different this year. I am completely rearranging the house full stop. Totally mixed up the chi or whatever. Couch - over there. Radio - there. Book case - (unloaded) over there (reloaded). Etc, etc. Even the kitchen is all rearranged.
The point of all this? To change things so radically that Mum will actually _notice_ that I am taking care of it. This is still a work in progress, so we'll see how it goes. It may backfire on me and drive me nuts. Oh, and for the record, yeah, I even am doing the bedrooms.
And, third:
Before I get to the actual "dream" part of this, you gotta know the setup.
In the past, I have had (bad) dreams about waking up next to Dad in bed and (bad) dreams about waking up next to him in bed that felt so real that I ran screaming into his room waking him up with a hockey stick. Being a bit of a sleep walker, I have actually woken up in Dad's bed, being... uh... poked in the back of the leg by him*. That was a fright and he ended up getting kicked in the face before things settled down.
[edit: I should clarify that he was /sleeping/ when this happened, eh? Not his /fault/.]
Also, Amy shares my bed when everyone is over for the holidays. So, I am not completely unaccustomed to waking with someone else in bed. Now, on to the dream:
In the dream, I was dreaming about everyone being here for the holidays and having Amy around. Then, in the dream, I dreamed I woke up rather peacefully, just stretching in the sun-warmed sheets, face down and feeling the still-fresh linen against my skin. I was quickly and calmly aware of the weight of someone next to me, my skin against their smooth skin. I could feel the rhythm of their breathing and it was comforting. I kept my eyes closed against the persistent, bright sumer sun. I felt the curves of their - of her body and knew she was on her back; slight curve of breast against the my ribs. My skin felt cool against her warm body, soft and tender. I smiled from the comfort of it all as I finished my stretch then rolled to my side, away from my bedmate to look at her face. The scent was so familiar I could picture the form before me before I opened my eyes and found...
Claire.
That startled me awake for real. I should have known it was a dream from the light. There was too much light. Sunrise it not until like almost eleven. I had been expecting (in my dream) for it to have been Amy, so familiar and comfortable. I really believed my dream was real and Amy was next to me. I just knew it. Then to open my eyes and find Claire - I was instantly bombarded with new, Claire scents and rhythms. And that /light/. It was on the other side of Claire from me (well, no, it was all around such that the only things I could see were myself, the bed (and beddings) and Claire) and the light wrapped around her so tightly that I could only see her face - my mind filling in the rest of her from memory, vague and incomplete. At least she was smiling at me.
That was yesterday morning - Thursday. It kinda occupied my thoughts, leaving me lost to this distraction most of the day.
You know when you have an "off" day, right? And you can tell things are just not going the way they normally do. So, at fencing, I am off my game. Completely distracted. One guy who doesn't really beat me... doesn't really get touches on a normal day... beats me - twice - and starts talking to his buds about how much better he is because now he is better than me. He had extra toast with breakfast, and now he is better than me, so he is going to have extra toast before tournaments. He put on his right shoe first this time, so he is better than me and will now always put on his right shoe first. Some such nonsense.
On the other hand, the other, the really good fencers, are actually /more/ annoying. "Hey, there were a couple of opportunities in there you missed, thank goodness." Or, "Oh, my, I thought you were going to get me there... You normally get me with those." Etc, etc. Yeah, they could tell I was off my game, but they were trying to /help/. Even Coach started trying, but my mind just was not in it. I tried meditating, but oddly, it did not help.
Sheehs.
So, this is probably a fairly frustrating post for some of you. It touches on Linux, Family, Dreams, Fencing... if I... Oh, I think I will...
Here are the first fifteen tracks in my current playlist:
[0/2680] Lily Allen - Everything's Just Wonderful (03:29)
[1/6901] Book Of Love - I Touch Roses (Long Stemmed Version) (05:46)
[2/6891] Book Of Love - Late Show (03:38)
[3/3300] KT Tunstall - Hold On (02:58)
[4/3209] Katharine McPhee - Over It (03:35)
[5/3294] 32+-+KT+Tunstall+-+Hold+On.mp3 (02:47)
[6/6946] Everything But The Girl - Letting Love Go (04:46)
[7/6939] Everything But The Girl - Driving (04:00)
[8/4235] Yaz - And On (03:12)
[9/5702] Garbage - Wicked Ways (03:44)
[10/5660] Garbage - Cup Of Coffee (04:31)
[11/3221] Katy Perry - I Kissed A Girl (03:00)
[12/3299] KT Tunstall - Funnyman (02:56)
[13/6902] Book Of Love - Boy (Extended Mix) (04:29)
[14/3121] Gabriella Cilmi - Einstein (03:40)
Oh, Mercy... somethings in that list should be omitted. :blush:
I just finished reading The Ghost and the Goth by Stacey Kade. It was a good and light teen candy book. I have these "Candy Books" that I read from time to time. Most are Teen, or YA books, but they are fun without having a lot of weight, you know? Why I Let My Hair Grow Out, The first HP book, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, In the Stone Circle, the first Twilight book (Uh, I guess that would be Twilight) and about anything by Meg Cabbot. I mean, there are other "light reading" books I have and like and whatnot. The Pern Series, some Piers Anthony, Dresden Files, Girl Vs Evil and whatnot. But these are not like my "deep reading" like Time Travelers Wife, or Never Let Me Go, etc.
Okay... lots of topics to post for one day. Have fun...
LQ
Friday, December 3, 2010
I tried to find the secrets of the brain
Music Goes Round My Head
by The Saints
"All my life I've searched upon the reasons for us being here
The universe and all that it contains
Well I tried to find the secrets of the brain
Twenty years I've labored trying to find who my creator was
But now at last the pieces fall in place
It's funny and it shows upon my face
And the music goes 'round my head
And I can't hear a thing you said
And my life echoes through my brain
It's so comical I'm insane"
Obviously, I would not know this song at all if not for the film Young Einstein. Young Einstein is just one of those films that, though anachronistic like crazy, is just good, silly fun. But nevermind that.
For the most part, I do not really do well at interpreting songs beyond the face value stuff. And a lot of songs make no sense whatsoever when you try and take them literally. There are some exceptions to my ineptitude, but for the most part, I either like a song, or I don't. I don't have to understand it any more than I have to understand /why/ I like it.
THAT being said, I do, at times, /try/ to understand. Sometime I just take what it means to me and me alone, as if it was written for me, though Mercy knows it was not. (Much of the music I like was written well before I was born, in case there was any doubt at all. If I was ever anyone's muse, it was in a life that was not this one.)
So... the music goes 'round me head. I have, over my years (albeit fewer than twenty) contemplated the meaning to the ultimate question of life, the universe and everything. I even read a book by that title.
I like listening to music; letting it consume me, letting it replace the me that is inside with the stuff that is it. Much like the way I like getting lost in a good book, I like the music to carry me away where I don't have to be me.
So, yeah, some of my favorite songs are all about the music; the melody, the rhythm, the bass, the je-ne-cest-qua.
Other times it is the voice, the story, the words.
Do I like instrumentals? Well, not as a rule, but there are plenty that I do like.
Do I like musicals? Again, not as a rule, but there are plenty that I do like.
I have music playing just about all the time. World music, techno, rave, jazz, rock, classic, soundtracks... even bagpipes.
Quiet, ambient new age stuff while I meditate, dance music while I workout, swing while I ride my bike... whatever.
But I have no talent for music. Like Henry DeTamble in The Time Traveler's Wife, my life has a soundtrack, but it is all by someone else.
This kinda bums me a bit.
So... If you are out there, and you are reading this blog:
What is playing right now?
Do you play an instrument?
Are you musically inclined, or declined?
Can you sing? Let me rephrase that... Do You think you can sing?
Just... leave a comment!
Take Care-
LQ
by The Saints
"All my life I've searched upon the reasons for us being here
The universe and all that it contains
Well I tried to find the secrets of the brain
Twenty years I've labored trying to find who my creator was
But now at last the pieces fall in place
It's funny and it shows upon my face
And the music goes 'round my head
And I can't hear a thing you said
And my life echoes through my brain
It's so comical I'm insane"
Obviously, I would not know this song at all if not for the film Young Einstein. Young Einstein is just one of those films that, though anachronistic like crazy, is just good, silly fun. But nevermind that.
For the most part, I do not really do well at interpreting songs beyond the face value stuff. And a lot of songs make no sense whatsoever when you try and take them literally. There are some exceptions to my ineptitude, but for the most part, I either like a song, or I don't. I don't have to understand it any more than I have to understand /why/ I like it.
THAT being said, I do, at times, /try/ to understand. Sometime I just take what it means to me and me alone, as if it was written for me, though Mercy knows it was not. (Much of the music I like was written well before I was born, in case there was any doubt at all. If I was ever anyone's muse, it was in a life that was not this one.)
So... the music goes 'round me head. I have, over my years (albeit fewer than twenty) contemplated the meaning to the ultimate question of life, the universe and everything. I even read a book by that title.
I like listening to music; letting it consume me, letting it replace the me that is inside with the stuff that is it. Much like the way I like getting lost in a good book, I like the music to carry me away where I don't have to be me.
So, yeah, some of my favorite songs are all about the music; the melody, the rhythm, the bass, the je-ne-cest-qua.
Other times it is the voice, the story, the words.
Do I like instrumentals? Well, not as a rule, but there are plenty that I do like.
Do I like musicals? Again, not as a rule, but there are plenty that I do like.
I have music playing just about all the time. World music, techno, rave, jazz, rock, classic, soundtracks... even bagpipes.
Quiet, ambient new age stuff while I meditate, dance music while I workout, swing while I ride my bike... whatever.
But I have no talent for music. Like Henry DeTamble in The Time Traveler's Wife, my life has a soundtrack, but it is all by someone else.
This kinda bums me a bit.
So... If you are out there, and you are reading this blog:
What is playing right now?
Do you play an instrument?
Are you musically inclined, or declined?
Can you sing? Let me rephrase that... Do You think you can sing?
Just... leave a comment!
Take Care-
LQ
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Thanksgiving Aftermath
So, everyone is is gone and it is just Dad and I in the house again.
Yesterday was a kind of /accelerated/ and or condensed version of my weekly cleaning schedule to get the house back to normal after 5 house guests for like 4 days.
It was not that bad, really. The biggest part is the psychological cleansing from the house, you know? Like, Amy used /that/ glass before she left. She put her toothbrush in the left slot on the holdie-thingie. When Amy put that book back on the shelf, it was positioned just /so/ and I have to line it up to get Amy out of the house even after she went home the day before.
I know what some of you are thinking and yes, I washed Amy's and my towels separately from everyone else's, but this phenomenon is not exclusive to to Amy. With sex happening in the spare room and a toddler running around (that is unrelated to the sex that was going on - I promise) there are plenty of other things that were just... out of order.
(Aunt) Joan: "Here, I'm just going to wash our bedding before we leave."
Me: "No, it's okay. I'll get it."
Joan: "Oh, you don't have too. I can take care of it."
Me: "Really. Please just leave it. It will be fine."
Joan: "Oh, I just want to, you know, not be more of a burden than..."
Me: "Yeah, I know there is your residue de amore. I won't look. It's fine. I promise."
Joan: "Well..."
Me: "If you wash it, I'll just wash it again later. You may as well leave it."
At lease I was smiling. Hopefully not too much. That's why I do not care for plastic facades - I am always afraid they may be transparent.
And I looked. Sue me. I had to pre-treat after all.
Oh, but that is not what this post was going to be about...
Today is the last day of the month. According to my stats, this is my top month so far. I kinda thought last June was going to hold the record for a while 'cause it was kind up there a bit and just a few days ago, November was still quite a ways away.
So, thanks for all the visits!
But I must confess - I have mixed emotions.... with some of the /personal/ stuff I post here, it kinda creeps me out that so many people are looking at it, but then, I am posting it on the interwebz, so... of course it is getting looked at. I suppose what I am saying here is that it /is/ on the interwebz, so if it was /not/ getting read, that would be weird, or a bummer, or something.
On the other hand, I realize that I post my techie stuff, fun stuff, and personal stuff on the same blog. Different audiences. Would be better if it was divided up. Maybe that will be a 2011 thing.
Oh, and I dreamed last night that Claire kissed me and I was really happy about it. It felt /SO/ real. I could feel her chapped lips. (Not like, gross chapped... just a little rough. Texture that made it feel so /real/.) So, not I am _so_ confused about how I feel about it.
The logical side of me is telling me that this was my brain's way telling me that I think Claire is accepting of my relationship(?) with Amy. Not that there is really a "relationship" but that she is cool with whatever it is that we do have.
Oh, but it was tender and /HOT/. -which is going to be a subject of meditation on its own because, pretty as she is, Claire does not turn me on. Well, no one does, but that is another story.
Okay -
So -
Thanks for good November stats!
Take Care!
LQ
Yesterday was a kind of /accelerated/ and or condensed version of my weekly cleaning schedule to get the house back to normal after 5 house guests for like 4 days.
It was not that bad, really. The biggest part is the psychological cleansing from the house, you know? Like, Amy used /that/ glass before she left. She put her toothbrush in the left slot on the holdie-thingie. When Amy put that book back on the shelf, it was positioned just /so/ and I have to line it up to get Amy out of the house even after she went home the day before.
I know what some of you are thinking and yes, I washed Amy's and my towels separately from everyone else's, but this phenomenon is not exclusive to to Amy. With sex happening in the spare room and a toddler running around (that is unrelated to the sex that was going on - I promise) there are plenty of other things that were just... out of order.
(Aunt) Joan: "Here, I'm just going to wash our bedding before we leave."
Me: "No, it's okay. I'll get it."
Joan: "Oh, you don't have too. I can take care of it."
Me: "Really. Please just leave it. It will be fine."
Joan: "Oh, I just want to, you know, not be more of a burden than..."
Me: "Yeah, I know there is your residue de amore. I won't look. It's fine. I promise."
Joan: "Well..."
Me: "If you wash it, I'll just wash it again later. You may as well leave it."
At lease I was smiling. Hopefully not too much. That's why I do not care for plastic facades - I am always afraid they may be transparent.
And I looked. Sue me. I had to pre-treat after all.
Oh, but that is not what this post was going to be about...
Today is the last day of the month. According to my stats, this is my top month so far. I kinda thought last June was going to hold the record for a while 'cause it was kind up there a bit and just a few days ago, November was still quite a ways away.
So, thanks for all the visits!
But I must confess - I have mixed emotions.... with some of the /personal/ stuff I post here, it kinda creeps me out that so many people are looking at it, but then, I am posting it on the interwebz, so... of course it is getting looked at. I suppose what I am saying here is that it /is/ on the interwebz, so if it was /not/ getting read, that would be weird, or a bummer, or something.
On the other hand, I realize that I post my techie stuff, fun stuff, and personal stuff on the same blog. Different audiences. Would be better if it was divided up. Maybe that will be a 2011 thing.
Oh, and I dreamed last night that Claire kissed me and I was really happy about it. It felt /SO/ real. I could feel her chapped lips. (Not like, gross chapped... just a little rough. Texture that made it feel so /real/.) So, not I am _so_ confused about how I feel about it.
The logical side of me is telling me that this was my brain's way telling me that I think Claire is accepting of my relationship(?) with Amy. Not that there is really a "relationship" but that she is cool with whatever it is that we do have.
Oh, but it was tender and /HOT/. -which is going to be a subject of meditation on its own because, pretty as she is, Claire does not turn me on. Well, no one does, but that is another story.
Okay -
So -
Thanks for good November stats!
Take Care!
LQ
Monday, November 29, 2010
Where do I even begin?
Actually, I have no issue with trying to figure out where to begin... I am a chronological kinda girl.
Lets see... Wed, picking up Mum.
Before we left, Amy called. She was being all sympathetic with the strain of having everyone over and wanted to know if having her here too was going to be too much. I assured her - with no pretense - that I wanted here there most of all. So, she was happy.
In the car, on the way to the airport, Dad was saying, "I know your Mum stresses you out a bit when she comes over and tries to run the house," and I say, "Gee... ya' think?" and he was like, "she just feels bad about not being able to host these shin-digs and wants to take some of the load off us." And I was like, "So, yeah, she means well, but it would be so much easier if she would just kick back and relax." So, of course, Dad comes back with, "Have you ever /told/ her that?"
What could I say? I hem-haw'd about for a bit then just resigned, "No... not, like, in /words/ and stuff."
So, yeah, my maternal unit it a bit of a control noodge, but I am not exactly the best at, like, talking and stuff.
We get her and have brunch-ish. Mum says I am looking good (she lies) and that since I am getting some hair I should let her have someone do something with it. So I take off my touque(sp) and show her that it is only growing in the front. Nothing really to do anything with. I make a mental note to get rid of it all. Hey, I tried to let it alone.
Shopping for food.
No, back up. Mum tries to get us to go clothes shopping now before the crowds hit on Friday. She gets vetoed.
Shopping for food. Mum wants to do a turkey. I want to do fish. She says, "who does fish for Thanksgiving?" I say, "Hello? Alaska? I think there is some whale in the icehouse." Mum cringes. Dad represses a giggle. No, wait... he is more manly than giggling. And that should be "suppresses", not "represses."
We compromise. Turkey.
So, on the way back to the house, I actually /tell/ Mum that she should just relax and enjoy herself. So she tells us how she wants the turkey done and starts "setting up the house for guests."
Dad and I share a private laugh. But at least she it out of the kitchen for now.
Okay, so Mum is arranging for everyone coming over - sleeping wise.
"You know, LQ, if you do not want to share your room with Amy... If you are not comfortable with that..." she says.
"Oh, no. It is fine. It would not be a family get-together without sleeping with Amy."
She raises an eyebrow at me.
"You know what I mean. And no, it won't be weird. I'm not worried about her trying anything. We're cool." And that is probably more than I have ever told Mum about my relationship with Amy.
So, we snack and cook and watch movies and play games and everyone eventually arrives.
Around the Thanksgiving dinner table.
Yes, I know that was a sentence fragment. Get over it.
Re-capping the party members:
Mum and her two ex's (Dad and Amy)
Her brother, his ex (Amy), current (Joan) and offspring (Jill)
Dad, his ex (Mum) and current (Kathy) and offspring (Me)
Amy, her two ex's (Uncle and Mum) and (?) (Me)
Joan, her current, her current's ex and her offspring
Jill and all these weirdos.
Me, surrounded by people who know far too many of my issues, all too well.
Bird is on the table. All the side are on the table. Drink glasses are full and all the places are set. I am the last one up and the bird-carving tools are still in the kitchen. So, I go pick them up and bring them to the table.
There is this... odd... silence as everyone (rug-rat excluded) is looking at /ME/ holding a /great/ /big/ knife.
I roll my eyes and hand the thing to Dad, but there is that moment. That elephant walking through the room.
I sit down, fold my arms across my chest and I think my bottom lip even stuck out just a little and Dad starts carving. (For those who may not know, I am not permitted sharp/pointy things. The failing track record I have with them is evident on my skin.)
Joan serves herself some stuffing then passes the dish. "So... how do you shave?"
After I pick up my jaw, I am actually pleased there was someone at the table over the age of /me/ who was unclear on the answer to that.
But the pleasantries for the next far-too-long pretty much ended there as the dinner conversation was centered around the fact that the seventeen year old (me) was displaying no more signs of puberty than the two-ish year old (Jill).
It did kinda end after the suggestion of getting out the CT scan of my ovaries was thrown out there.
"How about lets not," I say. I did not say, "Hey, lets /not/ get out the pictures of my crotch... again"
There is some debate on the relative merits of looking at the proof that I do actually have them. I give dad a pleading look and he kinda changes the subject and things get better after that, but I still could not really eat. Yep, I was embarrassed. I really tried to not show it, because it really was not anything to /be/ embarrassed about.
Moving on...
After dinner's cleanup was followed by much playing of Rock Band. That was cool. I mean, Mum, Kathy and I were taking turns on the vocals, Amy played drums, mostly and Dad and Uncle mostly stuck to the guitars. Joan rotated through the set here and there while entertaining Jill.
There was over all very little discussion of my inert reproductive system, my bad habits, and (most importantly) the few little gaps I have from the past few days are, well, few, and seem innocuous. Just some, "Earth to LQ - Hello - You in there?" and no one heard me talking to my food - that I am aware of.
I enjoyed a nice cup of espresso with minimal upset.
My bread pudding went over well.
I got to have some of the good scotch - but just a sip.
We did all have Guinness Punch - even Claire (I am such a bad influence - hahaha).
I ate at least something every day.
Friday, my friend Claire came over. Saturday, I went to Claire's for a while.
All in all, much of the long weekend was spent with all of us playing in the snow and me being Amy's pet like I used to. Only, now I am a little more reserved because I know what effect that has on her.
Claire did say it was a little weird seeing Amy kiss me bye. But not much weirder then seeing the general affection I show for Amy. She is way more accustomed to me keeping far more distance from people.
So, everyone is gone. The rest of the putting-the-house back in order will wait until tomorrow morning... after I post this. This was a much better holiday than last year.
Them are the highlights. I'll post this in the morning.
So for now...
Take Care -
LQ
Lets see... Wed, picking up Mum.
Before we left, Amy called. She was being all sympathetic with the strain of having everyone over and wanted to know if having her here too was going to be too much. I assured her - with no pretense - that I wanted here there most of all. So, she was happy.
In the car, on the way to the airport, Dad was saying, "I know your Mum stresses you out a bit when she comes over and tries to run the house," and I say, "Gee... ya' think?" and he was like, "she just feels bad about not being able to host these shin-digs and wants to take some of the load off us." And I was like, "So, yeah, she means well, but it would be so much easier if she would just kick back and relax." So, of course, Dad comes back with, "Have you ever /told/ her that?"
What could I say? I hem-haw'd about for a bit then just resigned, "No... not, like, in /words/ and stuff."
So, yeah, my maternal unit it a bit of a control noodge, but I am not exactly the best at, like, talking and stuff.
We get her and have brunch-ish. Mum says I am looking good (she lies) and that since I am getting some hair I should let her have someone do something with it. So I take off my touque(sp) and show her that it is only growing in the front. Nothing really to do anything with. I make a mental note to get rid of it all. Hey, I tried to let it alone.
Shopping for food.
No, back up. Mum tries to get us to go clothes shopping now before the crowds hit on Friday. She gets vetoed.
Shopping for food. Mum wants to do a turkey. I want to do fish. She says, "who does fish for Thanksgiving?" I say, "Hello? Alaska? I think there is some whale in the icehouse." Mum cringes. Dad represses a giggle. No, wait... he is more manly than giggling. And that should be "suppresses", not "represses."
We compromise. Turkey.
So, on the way back to the house, I actually /tell/ Mum that she should just relax and enjoy herself. So she tells us how she wants the turkey done and starts "setting up the house for guests."
Dad and I share a private laugh. But at least she it out of the kitchen for now.
Okay, so Mum is arranging for everyone coming over - sleeping wise.
"You know, LQ, if you do not want to share your room with Amy... If you are not comfortable with that..." she says.
"Oh, no. It is fine. It would not be a family get-together without sleeping with Amy."
She raises an eyebrow at me.
"You know what I mean. And no, it won't be weird. I'm not worried about her trying anything. We're cool." And that is probably more than I have ever told Mum about my relationship with Amy.
So, we snack and cook and watch movies and play games and everyone eventually arrives.
Around the Thanksgiving dinner table.
Yes, I know that was a sentence fragment. Get over it.
Re-capping the party members:
Mum and her two ex's (Dad and Amy)
Her brother, his ex (Amy), current (Joan) and offspring (Jill)
Dad, his ex (Mum) and current (Kathy) and offspring (Me)
Amy, her two ex's (Uncle and Mum) and (?) (Me)
Joan, her current, her current's ex and her offspring
Jill and all these weirdos.
Me, surrounded by people who know far too many of my issues, all too well.
Bird is on the table. All the side are on the table. Drink glasses are full and all the places are set. I am the last one up and the bird-carving tools are still in the kitchen. So, I go pick them up and bring them to the table.
There is this... odd... silence as everyone (rug-rat excluded) is looking at /ME/ holding a /great/ /big/ knife.
I roll my eyes and hand the thing to Dad, but there is that moment. That elephant walking through the room.
I sit down, fold my arms across my chest and I think my bottom lip even stuck out just a little and Dad starts carving. (For those who may not know, I am not permitted sharp/pointy things. The failing track record I have with them is evident on my skin.)
Joan serves herself some stuffing then passes the dish. "So... how do you shave?"
After I pick up my jaw, I am actually pleased there was someone at the table over the age of /me/ who was unclear on the answer to that.
But the pleasantries for the next far-too-long pretty much ended there as the dinner conversation was centered around the fact that the seventeen year old (me) was displaying no more signs of puberty than the two-ish year old (Jill).
It did kinda end after the suggestion of getting out the CT scan of my ovaries was thrown out there.
"How about lets not," I say. I did not say, "Hey, lets /not/ get out the pictures of my crotch... again"
There is some debate on the relative merits of looking at the proof that I do actually have them. I give dad a pleading look and he kinda changes the subject and things get better after that, but I still could not really eat. Yep, I was embarrassed. I really tried to not show it, because it really was not anything to /be/ embarrassed about.
Moving on...
After dinner's cleanup was followed by much playing of Rock Band. That was cool. I mean, Mum, Kathy and I were taking turns on the vocals, Amy played drums, mostly and Dad and Uncle mostly stuck to the guitars. Joan rotated through the set here and there while entertaining Jill.
There was over all very little discussion of my inert reproductive system, my bad habits, and (most importantly) the few little gaps I have from the past few days are, well, few, and seem innocuous. Just some, "Earth to LQ - Hello - You in there?" and no one heard me talking to my food - that I am aware of.
I enjoyed a nice cup of espresso with minimal upset.
My bread pudding went over well.
I got to have some of the good scotch - but just a sip.
We did all have Guinness Punch - even Claire (I am such a bad influence - hahaha).
I ate at least something every day.
Friday, my friend Claire came over. Saturday, I went to Claire's for a while.
All in all, much of the long weekend was spent with all of us playing in the snow and me being Amy's pet like I used to. Only, now I am a little more reserved because I know what effect that has on her.
Claire did say it was a little weird seeing Amy kiss me bye. But not much weirder then seeing the general affection I show for Amy. She is way more accustomed to me keeping far more distance from people.
So, everyone is gone. The rest of the putting-the-house back in order will wait until tomorrow morning... after I post this. This was a much better holiday than last year.
Them are the highlights. I'll post this in the morning.
So for now...
Take Care -
LQ
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
A quickie before the holiday
Hi,
From the time we pick up Mum until the last house guest is punted out I will not likely get the opportunity to update my blog, so, here it is.
I had mentioned the other day that I have family coming over. We are picking up Mum at the airport in a little bit. She'll be hungry, so we will likely have brunch, then go shopping for all the food that: 1) Dad and I forgot to get 2) is better to get "fresh"-er 3) that Mum will say we forgot, but really Dad and I just would just as soon not have bothered with.
Then Mum will make a big deal of having to rush to the house to get is ready for company. Hello - Just what have I been doing all weekend? And what I do every time we have company?
Mum does not get that she does not live here anymore and _she_ is the company that I have to get ready for.
Aunt and uncle (Mum's brother and sister-in-law) along with their rug-rat will be driving in tonight.
Dad's ... um ... friend is coming in the morning to help with the meal-making. This should be interesting. She has met Mum before and all should be cool there, but /I/ feel mondo tension. Dad too. Actually, I may have sympathetic tension from Dad.
And Amy (Mum's first sister-in-law) will be here tomorrow too.
Mum is like the center cog of awkward in the family.
Here it is in a nut-shell:
She slept with her brother's first wife before he did.
Dad still loves her, and she still loves him, but she switched teams.
She and Dad's new hopefully-girlfriend are both going to be playing Mrs Domestic.
Uncle's ex will be here because of her relationship with Mum (which has ended physically, but they are still really good friends) and now with me (--not a physical relationship exactly--)
So I have a house full of ex's and currents. This is, by the way, not my idea of the Norman Rockwell Family Holiday. I have emergency meds to help me through it. I also have Claire on speed dial to whisk me away should the need arise. We don't want a repeat of last year.
Actually, the little niece provides a nice bit of distraction.
So, Take Care and Happy Thanksgiving to all you Americans out there. Happy Next-Few-Days to the rest of you.
LQ
From the time we pick up Mum until the last house guest is punted out I will not likely get the opportunity to update my blog, so, here it is.
I had mentioned the other day that I have family coming over. We are picking up Mum at the airport in a little bit. She'll be hungry, so we will likely have brunch, then go shopping for all the food that: 1) Dad and I forgot to get 2) is better to get "fresh"-er 3) that Mum will say we forgot, but really Dad and I just would just as soon not have bothered with.
Then Mum will make a big deal of having to rush to the house to get is ready for company. Hello - Just what have I been doing all weekend? And what I do every time we have company?
Mum does not get that she does not live here anymore and _she_ is the company that I have to get ready for.
Aunt and uncle (Mum's brother and sister-in-law) along with their rug-rat will be driving in tonight.
Dad's ... um ... friend is coming in the morning to help with the meal-making. This should be interesting. She has met Mum before and all should be cool there, but /I/ feel mondo tension. Dad too. Actually, I may have sympathetic tension from Dad.
And Amy (Mum's first sister-in-law) will be here tomorrow too.
Mum is like the center cog of awkward in the family.
Here it is in a nut-shell:
She slept with her brother's first wife before he did.
Dad still loves her, and she still loves him, but she switched teams.
She and Dad's new hopefully-girlfriend are both going to be playing Mrs Domestic.
Uncle's ex will be here because of her relationship with Mum (which has ended physically, but they are still really good friends) and now with me (--not a physical relationship exactly--)
So I have a house full of ex's and currents. This is, by the way, not my idea of the Norman Rockwell Family Holiday. I have emergency meds to help me through it. I also have Claire on speed dial to whisk me away should the need arise. We don't want a repeat of last year.
Actually, the little niece provides a nice bit of distraction.
So, Take Care and Happy Thanksgiving to all you Americans out there. Happy Next-Few-Days to the rest of you.
LQ
Friday, November 19, 2010
It is Friday and I am not sure how I feel about that
This update may take me a while to get posted, but I will leave it up here until I am good and ready to post it.
This week has really gone my fast. Too fast, one may say.
The Linux Mint servers were having issues from being overloaded. I am happy that they are getting that popular... in a way.
Maybe I should go back to looking for a nice, quiet, unpopular distribution... maybe I should stick with Mint. It is great, but I am never one to go with the flow, as it were.
Rice. Sure, it's rice - who expects it to _not_ be boring. But hey, seasoned right, it is very flexible. And, dried, it stores well all winter, so, you know, no point in being down about it, eh?
I watched the film they made of Alice Sebold's The Lovely Bones and...
I think they did a good job. I am not goring to do a side-by-side breakdown. I have given up on trying to do that because it never ends well for the film. Maybe an exception or two. Now, books made from films? That is a whole other issue all together.
Back to the point, I really think that - for a conversion - the stripped down film made a lot of sense. Yeah, I think there was a point or two missing... but those missing points are mostly Mrs. Sebold's issues/hangups. It was tidied up nicely for the movie-going audience.
Never Let Me Go, when it comes out, I am not likely going to be so kind about. In fact, I think I am going to re-read it over the holidays so it is all fresh. It has been even longer since I read Ishiguro than Sebold. This was an incredible book. Depressing, yes, but incredible.
Now, I have no idea if there are plans or not, but I think Peter Jackson could do a good job bringing Scott Westerfeld's Uglies series to film... seeing as how Hollywood has thrown in the towel on original film concepts. (Did I spell Westerfeld right? lemme look that up... Nope. Better go back and fix that. Done. Now no one will know.)
I did a thing a while back about songs that, given a more developed story, could make a really good film. Some may be more like a Sundance festival short, other maybe like a full fledged motion picture, but hey... interesting plot nonetheless.
I am listening to Yaz (or Yazoo, for those of you across the pond) while writing this. It feels good.
Earlier, I was listening to Cherry Poppin' Daddies:
"You gotta move fast to beat the devil
Your arm is too short to box with G__"
I feel like that some days... stuck between anything and everything with no recourse and no wall to put my back against. It really wears me out sometimes.
Oh, I am doing better now, I suppose. Sometimes when you are lying down at the bottom of the well, the only thing to do is be still and hope the kicking is over with soon.
So, this is supposed to be the month for writing, right? It is bugging me that I have not been able to put anything down, you know? And Mum will be here Wednesday. It feels like it may as well be tomorrow. I am not ready to deal with family again. Maybe I just want Dad all to myself for the holidays. Yeah, that is bad of me to think like that, but then, I have even worse thoughts, so, oh well. The point of that was to say that starting with Mum on Wed,family will be coming and between getting ready, and then them being here, I doubt I will get anything finished enough to post. :bummer:
This is getting long-ish and has touched on a number of subjects without being very meaningful to any of them, so I suppose it is time to wrap this up.
Take Care-
LQ
This week has really gone my fast. Too fast, one may say.
The Linux Mint servers were having issues from being overloaded. I am happy that they are getting that popular... in a way.
Maybe I should go back to looking for a nice, quiet, unpopular distribution... maybe I should stick with Mint. It is great, but I am never one to go with the flow, as it were.
Rice. Sure, it's rice - who expects it to _not_ be boring. But hey, seasoned right, it is very flexible. And, dried, it stores well all winter, so, you know, no point in being down about it, eh?
I watched the film they made of Alice Sebold's The Lovely Bones and...
I think they did a good job. I am not goring to do a side-by-side breakdown. I have given up on trying to do that because it never ends well for the film. Maybe an exception or two. Now, books made from films? That is a whole other issue all together.
Back to the point, I really think that - for a conversion - the stripped down film made a lot of sense. Yeah, I think there was a point or two missing... but those missing points are mostly Mrs. Sebold's issues/hangups. It was tidied up nicely for the movie-going audience.
Never Let Me Go, when it comes out, I am not likely going to be so kind about. In fact, I think I am going to re-read it over the holidays so it is all fresh. It has been even longer since I read Ishiguro than Sebold. This was an incredible book. Depressing, yes, but incredible.
Now, I have no idea if there are plans or not, but I think Peter Jackson could do a good job bringing Scott Westerfeld's Uglies series to film... seeing as how Hollywood has thrown in the towel on original film concepts. (Did I spell Westerfeld right? lemme look that up... Nope. Better go back and fix that. Done. Now no one will know.)
I did a thing a while back about songs that, given a more developed story, could make a really good film. Some may be more like a Sundance festival short, other maybe like a full fledged motion picture, but hey... interesting plot nonetheless.
I am listening to Yaz (or Yazoo, for those of you across the pond) while writing this. It feels good.
Earlier, I was listening to Cherry Poppin' Daddies:
"You gotta move fast to beat the devil
Your arm is too short to box with G__"
I feel like that some days... stuck between anything and everything with no recourse and no wall to put my back against. It really wears me out sometimes.
Oh, I am doing better now, I suppose. Sometimes when you are lying down at the bottom of the well, the only thing to do is be still and hope the kicking is over with soon.
So, this is supposed to be the month for writing, right? It is bugging me that I have not been able to put anything down, you know? And Mum will be here Wednesday. It feels like it may as well be tomorrow. I am not ready to deal with family again. Maybe I just want Dad all to myself for the holidays. Yeah, that is bad of me to think like that, but then, I have even worse thoughts, so, oh well. The point of that was to say that starting with Mum on Wed,family will be coming and between getting ready, and then them being here, I doubt I will get anything finished enough to post. :bummer:
This is getting long-ish and has touched on a number of subjects without being very meaningful to any of them, so I suppose it is time to wrap this up.
Take Care-
LQ
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
No Update Today
There was a time I was doing one of those 365 things. I am not now, so I do not, like, need to make an update every day.
So, I am wrapped up in a blanket eating (?) tomato soup listening to (currently Pet Shop Boys - no, it is changing... Gary Numan). It is -26C outside and a nice, new, fluffy layer of snow.
Here is the thing: I do not know which is worse; your friends parents catching you talking to your food, or getting the answer to "Does it talk back?" wrong.
Also, my, um, agent was asking me if I wanted some more work... for someone else. More script _writing_. That is good. New and different stuff. I asked PHP or PERL and he said it would be up to me... whatever works. It'll probably be PHP. Ah, my good friend. Comfortable like an old blanket. Like this blanket, actually.
So...
Last night's dream was really messed up and I am not going to post it.
There is that meteor shower tonight. Leonid.
Prince William got engaged, eh? Good for them. I think she'll do fine.
What else?
Oh, and yeah, check out eyebeam.com. Funny comics. You may have seen that I am reading the archives.
So, take care, eh-
LQ
So, I am wrapped up in a blanket eating (?) tomato soup listening to (currently Pet Shop Boys - no, it is changing... Gary Numan). It is -26C outside and a nice, new, fluffy layer of snow.
Here is the thing: I do not know which is worse; your friends parents catching you talking to your food, or getting the answer to "Does it talk back?" wrong.
Also, my, um, agent was asking me if I wanted some more work... for someone else. More script _writing_. That is good. New and different stuff. I asked PHP or PERL and he said it would be up to me... whatever works. It'll probably be PHP. Ah, my good friend. Comfortable like an old blanket. Like this blanket, actually.
So...
Last night's dream was really messed up and I am not going to post it.
There is that meteor shower tonight. Leonid.
Prince William got engaged, eh? Good for them. I think she'll do fine.
What else?
Oh, and yeah, check out eyebeam.com. Funny comics. You may have seen that I am reading the archives.
So, take care, eh-
LQ
Friday, November 12, 2010
It's Friday - I'm in... pajamas
Yes. It is Friday and I know that most of you out there do not need _me_ to tell you that.
I _so_ do not feel like posting on my blog today, so I thought I would post about that.
This is just a Friday blog and not very interesting, so you may want to just move on, but here it goes.
I have been missing a lot of time lately and that makes it really hard to get things done. Well, sure, I think I swept the same floor like 5 times on Tuesday. So, I know that got done, eh? Maybe we should get security cameras in here so I can find out what it is that goes on during these spells. Or maybe I am better off not knowing. Typically that is what I hear - that I don't want to know, or it was not important.
Twice this week I woke up in Dad's bed, once in the kitchen and once in the bathroom. Once I came back from my missing time undressed in the coat closet and once by the creek in my parka and boots.
For the November writing thing, I was really hoping to get a lot written... no a character.
Then... I get this e-mail yesterday from "my client" (a honcho at the place for whom I crunch data. See, first, I was like, "The byte count is off and there is this transmission artifact (ascii-burp) in the file. Please re-transmit."
So I get it back without the garble, and there is one record with a bad field count and it is throwing things off. So I find an un-escaped delimiter in a field in the record and it should not be there at all - like, there is no reason for that character to be in there at all.
I go back to them again and I am like, there is this record that has a problem. It was extracted that way and it needs to be fixed, re-extracted and sent to me again.
This is where the honcho's e-mail comes in because they should have the file back [today, now that it is Friday] but it will be late, etc, etc.
The e-mail was just to me, like it was my fault. I included my contractor guy when I replied, "Excuse me?"
That was really depressing on top of all my uncertainties this week.
So, _NOW_ I am feeling bad.
I was listening to The Bravery this morning what waffling about posting this. I made ginger-curry rice with an egg, but they are getting cold while I type.
Pffffftttt...
Reading Misfile did not help because it is kinda a mini cliffhanger and I could just about kick Chris in the shin for doing that to me today, but no... I couldn't do that.
I am thinking hard about finishing watching Kick-A__... but I don't know. I am about 40 minutes in an waiting for a character that I like. Well, I liked Mr Bitey, but that is it so far.
So, there it is. Hope I didn't bring anyone down.
Take Care-
LQ
I _so_ do not feel like posting on my blog today, so I thought I would post about that.
This is just a Friday blog and not very interesting, so you may want to just move on, but here it goes.
I have been missing a lot of time lately and that makes it really hard to get things done. Well, sure, I think I swept the same floor like 5 times on Tuesday. So, I know that got done, eh? Maybe we should get security cameras in here so I can find out what it is that goes on during these spells. Or maybe I am better off not knowing. Typically that is what I hear - that I don't want to know, or it was not important
Twice this week I woke up in Dad's bed, once in the kitchen and once in the bathroom. Once I came back from my missing time undressed in the coat closet and once by the creek in my parka and boots.
For the November writing thing, I was really hoping to get a lot written... no a character.
Then... I get this e-mail yesterday from "my client" (a honcho at the place for whom I crunch data. See, first, I was like, "The byte count is off and there is this transmission artifact (ascii-burp) in the file. Please re-transmit."
So I get it back without the garble, and there is one record with a bad field count and it is throwing things off. So I find an un-escaped delimiter in a field in the record and it should not be there at all - like, there is no reason for that character to be in there at all.
I go back to them again and I am like, there is this record that has a problem. It was extracted that way and it needs to be fixed, re-extracted and sent to me again.
This is where the honcho's e-mail comes in because they should have the file back [today, now that it is Friday] but it will be late, etc, etc.
The e-mail was just to me, like it was my fault. I included my contractor guy when I replied, "Excuse me?"
That was really depressing on top of all my uncertainties this week.
So, _NOW_ I am feeling bad.
I was listening to The Bravery this morning what waffling about posting this. I made ginger-curry rice with an egg, but they are getting cold while I type.
Pffffftttt...
Reading Misfile did not help because it is kinda a mini cliffhanger and I could just about kick Chris in the shin for doing that to me today, but no... I couldn't do that.
I am thinking hard about finishing watching Kick-A__... but I don't know. I am about 40 minutes in an waiting for a character that I like. Well, I liked Mr Bitey, but that is it so far.
So, there it is. Hope I didn't bring anyone down.
Take Care-
LQ
Saturday, November 6, 2010
I likez me some cheezies
Hot apple cider, crackers and cheese while watching The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus. Film ended and I left Dad and his lady friend to have the livingroom to themselves. (It is better than me thinking about them going off to his bedroom together. But then, I do sit on that sofa from time to time.) Pay me no attention there. I don't /know/ if they have even taken their relationship to that level. Best if I try to not think about it much.
It has been a busier day that I anticipated and I think I am going to turn in early. Already have the music going and just finished polishing the pearlies.
But... I have some old Win apps from Dad that I want to check out. Do I run me some virtual Windoze, or set up WINE? What's your opinion?
Take Care-
LQ
It has been a busier day that I anticipated and I think I am going to turn in early. Already have the music going and just finished polishing the pearlies.
But... I have some old Win apps from Dad that I want to check out. Do I run me some virtual Windoze, or set up WINE? What's your opinion?
Take Care-
LQ
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
To The City
Getting ready for my last trip to "the big city" before winter hits in earnest. Just the usual stuff
Yeah, I go every few months, but that is not the same as when I was moving between Dad's and Mom's every summer.
I never really collected "stuff" in general, but especially not the past seven or eight years. However, I still have ended up accumulating more in the past couple years than I had the other 6 put together.
I blame having a best friend (other than Dad.) Not blame in a bad way, but just kinda... explain it that way. Looking around (other than the fencing, cycling and computer paraphernalia) most of what is around are things Clare related. I find this odd. It is not so much that is it bothering me. I am not having to struggle with weird emotions or anything - like I have to burn it all, or break/cut everything into little pieces. I (hope I) am past that. But it would be more stuff to pack if I moved. Well, not so much if I just moved back to Mom's... I'd leave it here for the spell.
On the other hand, I have a good number of books out on loan to Claire. Which is fine. I'll probably take them to a book shop upon their return.
Mom has promised no surprise events this trip. It is (mostly) utilitarian. But it is not like have that much faith in her promises when it comes to the kind of surprises she has dealt in the past. Most things, sure, but...
On the other hand, she is understanding more that things that she thinks are "no big deal" can really freak me out, so maybe she really will keep her promise.
Again, it is not like she makes a promise knowing she will not keep it, it is just that she has not considered these parties, weddings, whatnot to be inclusive in the "No surprises" category.
But enough about all this. I still need to get ready. I have a lot of house cleaning and stuff to do before I travel.
Sigh. And I have to plan what music to take with me. Here is what I've got so far:
Kon Kan Peter Schilling
3 Doors Down Pet Shop Boys
Alice In Chains Lily Allen
Stone Temple Pilots Camouflage
Maroon 5 Matchbox Twenty
The Killers The Stone Roses
Third Eye Blind Yaz
Indecent Obsession Orgy
Yelle
And I will be adding Tones on Tail and OMD at the least.
Take Care-
LQ
Yeah, I go every few months, but that is not the same as when I was moving between Dad's and Mom's every summer.
I never really collected "stuff" in general, but especially not the past seven or eight years. However, I still have ended up accumulating more in the past couple years than I had the other 6 put together.
I blame having a best friend (other than Dad.) Not blame in a bad way, but just kinda... explain it that way. Looking around (other than the fencing, cycling and computer paraphernalia) most of what is around are things Clare related. I find this odd. It is not so much that is it bothering me. I am not having to struggle with weird emotions or anything - like I have to burn it all, or break/cut everything into little pieces. I (hope I) am past that. But it would be more stuff to pack if I moved. Well, not so much if I just moved back to Mom's... I'd leave it here for the spell.
On the other hand, I have a good number of books out on loan to Claire. Which is fine. I'll probably take them to a book shop upon their return.
Mom has promised no surprise events this trip. It is (mostly) utilitarian. But it is not like have that much faith in her promises when it comes to the kind of surprises she has dealt in the past. Most things, sure, but...
On the other hand, she is understanding more that things that she thinks are "no big deal" can really freak me out, so maybe she really will keep her promise.
Again, it is not like she makes a promise knowing she will not keep it, it is just that she has not considered these parties, weddings, whatnot to be inclusive in the "No surprises" category.
But enough about all this. I still need to get ready. I have a lot of house cleaning and stuff to do before I travel.
Sigh. And I have to plan what music to take with me. Here is what I've got so far:
Kon Kan Peter Schilling
3 Doors Down Pet Shop Boys
Alice In Chains Lily Allen
Stone Temple Pilots Camouflage
Maroon 5 Matchbox Twenty
The Killers The Stone Roses
Third Eye Blind Yaz
Indecent Obsession Orgy
Yelle
And I will be adding Tones on Tail and OMD at the least.
Take Care-
LQ
Friday, October 8, 2010
How many days until Halloween?
23.
It is Friday.
Yes, congratulations, it is another Friday.
Sorry I have not been feeling well as of late. No, I am not apologizing to anyone about that. I am feeling sorry for myself. Again, my blog = my pity. Or whatever.
It is more of an emotional feeling-not-good than any more health deterioration. I mean, yeah, there is that major, progressive downhill spiral - which is a big part of it - but I have been in a real mood-funk.
Yeah, I set up this blog thing to talk about my feelings and stuff, so I am. *This* is one of those posts that I do not expect any feedback on. 'Cause I'm just letting out ramblings.
I had been in a playlist rut, so yesterday, I changed it up to try and lift my spirits. Here is a sample:
[196/4397] Sugarcubes - The Great Crossover Potential - Walkabout (Unknown:03:49)
[197/7157] Daft Punk - Discovery - Nightvision (Club-House:01:44)
[198/4393] Sugarcubes - The Great Crossover Potential - Planet (Unknown:03:24)
[199/3498] Katy Perry - One Of The Boys - Thinking Of You (Adult Alternative Pop:04:06)
[200/2240] Junkie XL - Saturday Teenage Kick - War (Big Beat:02:47)
[201/52] Information Society - Information Society - Make It Funky (Dance:00:30)
[202/3002] Ministry - Twelve Inch Singles - Nature Of Love (Cruelty Mix B) (Unknown:06:52)
[203/6433] Yelle - Pop-Up - Les Femmes (Dance:04:15)
[204/2548] Lords Of Acid - Greatest T*ts - [Kitty] (Unknown:04:05)
[205/471] Basshunter - Now You're Gone The Album - Angel In The Night (Dance:03:23)
[206/7125] Daft Punk - Discovery - Nightvision (Euro House:01:44)
[207/2243] Junkie XL - Saturday Teenage Kick - Fight (Big Beat:05:38)
[208/7273] Yelle - Pop-Up - Mon meillur ami (Dance:03:57)
It is Friday.
Yes, congratulations, it is another Friday.
Sorry I have not been feeling well as of late. No, I am not apologizing to anyone about that. I am feeling sorry for myself. Again, my blog = my pity. Or whatever.
It is more of an emotional feeling-not-good than any more health deterioration. I mean, yeah, there is that major, progressive downhill spiral - which is a big part of it - but I have been in a real mood-funk.
Yeah, I set up this blog thing to talk about my feelings and stuff, so I am. *This* is one of those posts that I do not expect any feedback on. 'Cause I'm just letting out ramblings.
I had been in a playlist rut, so yesterday, I changed it up to try and lift my spirits. Here is a sample:
[196/4397] Sugarcubes - The Great Crossover Potential - Walkabout (Unknown:03:49)
[197/7157] Daft Punk - Discovery - Nightvision (Club-House:01:44)
[198/4393] Sugarcubes - The Great Crossover Potential - Planet (Unknown:03:24)
[199/3498] Katy Perry - One Of The Boys - Thinking Of You (Adult Alternative Pop:04:06)
[200/2240] Junkie XL - Saturday Teenage Kick - War (Big Beat:02:47)
[201/52] Information Society - Information Society - Make It Funky (Dance:00:30)
[202/3002] Ministry - Twelve Inch Singles - Nature Of Love (Cruelty Mix B) (Unknown:06:52)
[203/6433] Yelle - Pop-Up - Les Femmes (Dance:04:15)
[204/2548] Lords Of Acid - Greatest T*ts - [Kitty] (Unknown:04:05)
[205/471] Basshunter - Now You're Gone The Album - Angel In The Night (Dance:03:23)
[206/7125] Daft Punk - Discovery - Nightvision (Euro House:01:44)
[207/2243] Junkie XL - Saturday Teenage Kick - Fight (Big Beat:05:38)
[208/7273] Yelle - Pop-Up - Mon meillur ami (Dance:03:57)
It did not help. I was _really_ down yesterday afternoon.
I think I have been alienating what few friends I have. The real problem there is that I am not sure that is a bad thing. Maybe some distance is what I need.
Oh, and sorry about the "Unknown"s there in the genre field. I ought to update the tags, but... IDK. Why?
So, pensive lately, or just staring into space. I don't even know. Sometimes I think I am thinking about stuff, but I am either loosing whatever it is that I was thinking about as soon as I come out of it, or I'm mistaken about having something on my mind.
Sometimes I just... have an emotion that I can't really describe. It feels a little like loss, a little like I am misunderstood, a little like I don't want to be understood, a little like I should get over it, but just don't want to. It's a weird feeling and I just want everyone to go away.
Yeah, I went to fencing last night. I fenced, but really kept to myself when not on strip. Not consciously, mind you, but it just happened that way. Even on strip, I felt spotlighted and that really bothers me. I was never so longing to just go back home. That really bothers me to. Should I be glad that these things are bothering me? Does this mean I have not given up completely? Maybe.
It is not that I feel like I have given up. I don't know that I would know what it feels like to feel like I have given up. What I really don't know is if I care if I give up.
Okay. So. Well, there it is. Maybe I will follow this up with a more up-beat post shortly.
Until then,
Take Care-
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Nothing to see here
I was thinking, "you know?" I often ask myself if I know without asking what I know. But I went on. "I have had a bit on my mind. I should probably probably blog it."
So I came here and saw that there were almost 40 page visits yesterday. I was like "Whoa."
See, when I, like, post something that I am actually trying to get out there in the ethernets, AND I, like, tweet about it - Something like when I post more fiction on my Deviant Art (Yeah, that is it over on the right. Hold down [CTRL] when you click on it so it will be sure to open in a new tab so you don't loose you place here.) - then I get a fair number of hits.
But it was like, a Tuesday. I had not even made a new post. But I had a fair number of hits on last Friday's page. Weird.
So, why was I coming here to post? What was I going to blog about? It hardly seems relevant now.
[More like, you can't remember what it was.]
{Oh hush. I remember, just not at the moment.}
[Uh, huh. Sure.]
{Oh! Yeah.}
So, it is like, what, 4 in the morning now. I tried sleeping. Really, I did.
So, what do I do when I cannot sleep through the nightmares? Most often, I try to grab hold of them, pick them apart, and that usually helps me move on or whatever.
Tonight, like many lately, they have been too.... intangible. Just, like, random images of fire, death, decay and emotions of loss, hopelessness, fear, hate and a sense of pain and disease.
On nights like this, once I finally give up trying to sleep, I get up and do some yoga and try to meditate. Let me rephrase that; I do meditate, but with varying degrees of success. Not that meditating is a win-loose endeavor, but I think that you get the picture.
So, I have Irish oats that I started yesterday that should be ready today (well, I hope so, because I am about to go have some when I am done with this post) and get some started for tomorrow.
It is times like this where I am permitted run of the kitchen-
[so long as you do not use any knives]
{so long as I do not use any knives}
-where I have gotten "creative" and kinda taught myself a thing or two about cooking.
In other blogs, I have talked about being in the kitchen and cooking being a group project. And that is all good and stuff. I learned how to use the kitchen and the tools therein. But to really experiment, you need to be alone, cooking for no one but yourself - free to make mistakes.
It is like a lot of things - free to make mistakes. That is how we grow and learn and improve and master our world.
Somewhere else (yesterday, I think) I posted somewhere something about how the Earth is alive and she is strong and resilient, but that we need to clean her up. Our Mum needs a makeover. As a human race, we have been running wild. We have been living the nightmares, battling with ourselves. We-
[Oh, no. You are not about to get all soap-boxy, are you?]
{Yes. Yes I am.}
We, need to give up the fighting; do a bit of yoga and meditation; get in the kitchen and put what we have to work for us.
We have learned so much over the millennia (milleniums? Whatever) and it is high time we put it to work for us.
No one is going to take care of the planet for us. No one is going to come and clean our house. No one is going to pick up after us.
Oh, yeah... that was bad. Sorry. I try not to get that way. Hopefully I got it out of my system and will not need to go off like that again. Ever.
Oh, well.
There were some other things I was thinking about discussing here, but they will wait for another post.
Um, then, well.... Have a good Wednesday.
[Say hump-day.]
{What? No.}
[Go on. The rest of the week is down hill. Say it.]
{No, I'm not going to do that. People will think I mean... No. Just (ew) no.}
[Spoilsport.]
{Whatever. I am going to ignore you.}
Take Care.
LQ
So I came here and saw that there were almost 40 page visits yesterday. I was like "Whoa."
See, when I, like, post something that I am actually trying to get out there in the ethernets, AND I, like, tweet about it - Something like when I post more fiction on my Deviant Art (Yeah, that is it over on the right. Hold down [CTRL] when you click on it so it will be sure to open in a new tab so you don't loose you place here.) - then I get a fair number of hits.
But it was like, a Tuesday. I had not even made a new post. But I had a fair number of hits on last Friday's page. Weird.
So, why was I coming here to post? What was I going to blog about? It hardly seems relevant now.
[More like, you can't remember what it was.]
{Oh hush. I remember, just not at the moment.}
[Uh, huh. Sure.]
{Oh! Yeah.}
So, it is like, what, 4 in the morning now. I tried sleeping. Really, I did.
So, what do I do when I cannot sleep through the nightmares? Most often, I try to grab hold of them, pick them apart, and that usually helps me move on or whatever.
Tonight, like many lately, they have been too.... intangible. Just, like, random images of fire, death, decay and emotions of loss, hopelessness, fear, hate and a sense of pain and disease.
On nights like this, once I finally give up trying to sleep, I get up and do some yoga and try to meditate. Let me rephrase that; I do meditate, but with varying degrees of success. Not that meditating is a win-loose endeavor, but I think that you get the picture.
So, I have Irish oats that I started yesterday that should be ready today (well, I hope so, because I am about to go have some when I am done with this post) and get some started for tomorrow.
It is times like this where I am permitted run of the kitchen-
[so long as you do not use any knives]
{so long as I do not use any knives}
-where I have gotten "creative" and kinda taught myself a thing or two about cooking.
In other blogs, I have talked about being in the kitchen and cooking being a group project. And that is all good and stuff. I learned how to use the kitchen and the tools therein. But to really experiment, you need to be alone, cooking for no one but yourself - free to make mistakes.
It is like a lot of things - free to make mistakes. That is how we grow and learn and improve and master our world.
Somewhere else (yesterday, I think) I posted somewhere something about how the Earth is alive and she is strong and resilient, but that we need to clean her up. Our Mum needs a makeover. As a human race, we have been running wild. We have been living the nightmares, battling with ourselves. We-
[Oh, no. You are not about to get all soap-boxy, are you?]
{Yes. Yes I am.}
We, need to give up the fighting; do a bit of yoga and meditation; get in the kitchen and put what we have to work for us.
We have learned so much over the millennia (milleniums? Whatever) and it is high time we put it to work for us.
No one is going to take care of the planet for us. No one is going to come and clean our house. No one is going to pick up after us.
Oh, yeah... that was bad. Sorry. I try not to get that way. Hopefully I got it out of my system and will not need to go off like that again. Ever.
Oh, well.
There were some other things I was thinking about discussing here, but they will wait for another post.
Um, then, well.... Have a good Wednesday.
[Say hump-day.]
{What? No.}
[Go on. The rest of the week is down hill. Say it.]
{No, I'm not going to do that. People will think I mean... No. Just (ew) no.}
[Spoilsport.]
{Whatever. I am going to ignore you.}
Take Care.
LQ
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Still Friday - haven't been to bed yet.
Hi.
I turned seventeen this week. Yeah. Do I feel older? Well, not older, as such, but I do feel... seventeen. What I mean is, it is like I am being eased into adulthood - gently and slowly. Like, more is expected of me, but I don't yet have the keys to the car of my life.
This is one of those social things, not like anything too literal in my own family or anything. Like, we are out, and someone asks my age, and I say (or Dad says) 'seventeen' and there is this look that everyone gets. Like they are changing the Glasses-of-Scrutiny that they use to scrutinize me with. I am past the age of consent, (last year, actually,) but what can I do about it? Well, not me... I know where I am on that. I mean, if a highschooler gets pregnant, it is like.... "shuuuuuuunnnnnn." Right?
"Oh, well, as long as you use protection..."
Well, that's not the thing, right? Okay, girl gets knocked up. It happens. But what do people think? Not, "Oh, look... a baby," but way to often, "Hey, that little girl should have kept her legs together."
Meanwhile, on the other side of the standard, you get "grownups" having kids without being married first, but because they can (in theory) have jobs, support themselves, be responsible for themselves - because of that, it is okay. Their own business.
Hey they can drink and vote. Yippy.
What can 16/17 year olds do? We can work, but with limits. We can't rent a place of our own. We can't be legally responsible for ourselves. In short, we are legally aloud to have sex, but we are supposed to keep it a secret.
Now, I understand. The law there is to protect people, to define some boundaries, so adults can have sex with teenagers legally. That was harsh. I know it is more than that, but lets face it: People are not always capable of making good decisions and laws are there to help handle the repercussion of the not-so-good decisions.
Why this big rant?
I got this little short story thing going on Deviant Art. Normally, or at least, so far, I have been avoiding sex in my fiction. It does not interest me. There is one exception to that, but I explain it in the "author's comments." But now, with these, I am going to be dealing with teens, and their relationships, and I have to remind myself, that it is "normal" for teens to feel certain urges. Just like the Thomas Dolby song.
So, there are five bits of the story out there. Four of the five fall outside of what I just described because it starts out with the twins just starting school, but one of the five has jumped forward and hints at relationships and at exploration.
J+J Series, No. 001: First Day
J+J Series, No. 002: A Blind Date
J+J Series, No. 003: Early Years 01:Meet the Class
J+J Series, No. 004: Early Years 02: Delivered Late
J+J Series, No. 005: Early Years 03: Dinner Interrupted
Next up, we are returning to the teen years. The trip back has just been to define the characters. But I am having a hard time with the physical part of the relationships - I suppose because I don't really understand. But I am working on it. Fear not.
Happy Friday and take care! (well have a good weekend. Friday is over.)
I turned seventeen this week. Yeah. Do I feel older? Well, not older, as such, but I do feel... seventeen. What I mean is, it is like I am being eased into adulthood - gently and slowly. Like, more is expected of me, but I don't yet have the keys to the car of my life.
This is one of those social things, not like anything too literal in my own family or anything. Like, we are out, and someone asks my age, and I say (or Dad says) 'seventeen' and there is this look that everyone gets. Like they are changing the Glasses-of-Scrutiny that they use to scrutinize me with. I am past the age of consent, (last year, actually,) but what can I do about it? Well, not me... I know where I am on that. I mean, if a highschooler gets pregnant, it is like.... "shuuuuuuunnnnnn." Right?
"Oh, well, as long as you use protection..."
Well, that's not the thing, right? Okay, girl gets knocked up. It happens. But what do people think? Not, "Oh, look... a baby," but way to often, "Hey, that little girl should have kept her legs together."
Meanwhile, on the other side of the standard, you get "grownups" having kids without being married first, but because they can (in theory) have jobs, support themselves, be responsible for themselves - because of that, it is okay. Their own business.
Hey they can drink and vote. Yippy.
What can 16/17 year olds do? We can work, but with limits. We can't rent a place of our own. We can't be legally responsible for ourselves. In short, we are legally aloud to have sex, but we are supposed to keep it a secret.
Now, I understand. The law there is to protect people, to define some boundaries, so adults can have sex with teenagers legally. That was harsh. I know it is more than that, but lets face it: People are not always capable of making good decisions and laws are there to help handle the repercussion of the not-so-good decisions.
Why this big rant?
I got this little short story thing going on Deviant Art. Normally, or at least, so far, I have been avoiding sex in my fiction. It does not interest me. There is one exception to that, but I explain it in the "author's comments." But now, with these, I am going to be dealing with teens, and their relationships, and I have to remind myself, that it is "normal" for teens to feel certain urges. Just like the Thomas Dolby song.
So, there are five bits of the story out there. Four of the five fall outside of what I just described because it starts out with the twins just starting school, but one of the five has jumped forward and hints at relationships and at exploration.
J+J Series, No. 001: First Day
J+J Series, No. 002: A Blind Date
J+J Series, No. 003: Early Years 01:Meet the Class
J+J Series, No. 004: Early Years 02: Delivered Late
J+J Series, No. 005: Early Years 03: Dinner Interrupted
Next up, we are returning to the teen years. The trip back has just been to define the characters. But I am having a hard time with the physical part of the relationships - I suppose because I don't really understand. But I am working on it. Fear not.
Happy Friday and take care! (well have a good weekend. Friday is over.)
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Friday is late...
Those of you who have been playing along may know that I go pretty much everywhere with my laptop, in my backpack, which doubles as a purse. My life (outside of fencing) is in my backpack.
Tragedy of tragedies.
I took a spill on my bicycle yesterday. I went bum over teakettle and my faithful, old, lovable laptop went the way of a pack of restaurant soda crackers.
I cried all the way to the ER for the loss of my dearest, truest friend electric.
My next installment of the J&J Series on DeviantArt is on googledocs, so I didn't loose that, but getting to the web is a pain from the file server. I is a file server and not set up for graphics. (There are times and places where text-based browsers are awesome. This is not one.)
I am still hoping I can recover the HDD, of for nothing other than easing the sense of loss.
I am working on getting something to fill the gap in my life.
Oh, and my helmet broke and my front wheel is borked.
Me=sadface
Tragedy of tragedies.
I took a spill on my bicycle yesterday. I went bum over teakettle and my faithful, old, lovable laptop went the way of a pack of restaurant soda crackers.
I cried all the way to the ER for the loss of my dearest, truest friend electric.
My next installment of the J&J Series on DeviantArt is on googledocs, so I didn't loose that, but getting to the web is a pain from the file server. I is a file server and not set up for graphics. (There are times and places where text-based browsers are awesome. This is not one.)
I am still hoping I can recover the HDD, of for nothing other than easing the sense of loss.
I am working on getting something to fill the gap in my life.
Oh, and my helmet broke and my front wheel is borked.
Me=sadface
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.
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.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Visit with Mum (Part 1?)
Hi.
For the past few days, I have been at Mum's. The gist of it is:
1) This past summer was the first that I did not stay with her since the split up.
2) About 4 times a year I have to come here for the medical resources. I am beginning to think that I can get the same care more local, but I am not going to get into that.
3) Travel will be soon a bit sketchier, so visiting while I can.
Monday was kinda like Drs of one kind or another all day. (How hard can it be to draw blood from someone you can practically see through? I don't need an x-ray, just hold me up in front of a candle.)
Yesterday we shopped. I am not big on shopping, but it was okay.
Last night, over Chinese take-out, we had an interesting conversation.
We had /the/ sex talk a long time ago, but it had been years since we just talked about sex and relationships. It just had not really been relevant, you know? By the time it became (parts of it) relevant I was with Dad - and Dad & my relationship is more conducive to that kind of conversation. -- and in that parental communicative way, they shared notes.
So Mum was all like:
Is there a guy you like?
Nope.
Surely someone you fancy...
Nope.
...think is hot stuff?
Nope.
Not even a little crush?
Nope
A girl?
Nope.
Not even a little crush?
Okay, yeah, Mum, maybe.
Really? A girl? Do I know her?
Yeah, you do. - I said with a grin so she would not take it harshly - You slept with her.
She blushed. (I think I (euphemistically) used the word "slept" - which is ironic because I slept with her too, but literally. Long story.) It was true. I have a crush, if you will, a non-sexual girl-crush on my Mum's first girlfriend.
Then I was like:
You know how I feel about Amy (<-- not her real name, by the way). I love her very much, but I'm not having "romantic" feelings towards her or anyone.
No one?
No one.
What about Clair? (<-- not her real name, by the way)
We're just friends Mum. And she likes boys.
Does she have a boyfriend?
Nope.
You know, I married your father, and I still love him very much, but...
Not every girl in the world is secretly gay. And just because I am scared of boys, doesn't mean I'm a lesbian too. (Oh, Mum's lesbian. I went on.) Which would be okay if I was, but I am just nothing, okay?
Okay.
Really?
Okay.
Good.
But who do you find attractive?
(mental uhg. I rolled my eyes and through my fortune cookie at her.)
Then we named celebrities that we thought were good looking.
Dad and I would sit sometimes watching people walk by and point out who we thought was good looking and I would punch him whenever he looked at a girl that was too young for him. Same sort of thing. But without the punching.
I can appreciate a good looking person, boy or girl, but once I start to think about a guy being a guy.... and the anatomical ramifications of that... I freak out. There are people, guys, I have a very hard time being in the same room with because of this phenomenon. Sometimes I even get that way with Dad. Usually I just go to my room, other times I can't move and he has to leave the room. That reminds me of another story, that is still to new to not be funny yet. But I digress.
So, convinced that I had an eye for pretty people, but no juicy stories to tell Mum, we started talking about her relationships. She has had a hard time of things. She never really came out, you know? Not publicly. So I got to hear about her triumphs and frustrations. She expressed that she felt a little like a bad parent for having this kind of talk with me. She decided that it does not bother her that she will have no grandkids.
Oh - in case you did not know, I will not be reproducing. Aint gonna happen.
We did talk a little about the lack of physiological progress I am making and how I do not care to get medical treatment for it. I don't feel like I am missing out on anything by not having started puberty. We had been through all this before and I have enough to worry about. So, Mum was like, it is no wonder you have no interest in sex.
Well, that is a big part of it. I can't talk about my inner fears with her, or anyone. Not really. I can say that I _have_ them, but not what they are. It is not my intention to withhold this from her, from my shrink, even from Dad and my friends. There is just something in there... that rotten place I call my mind... that shuts me down. I tried, you know? I really tried to share with her, but I locked up. She called Dad and let me sleep it off. When I woke up we had ice cream.
I could go on, but Mum is up and making breakfast. I should go make sure she does not do anything weird with it.
This is all TMI as is, but I am going to post it right quick and edit it later. It is not like anyone reads it anyway.
Take Care
LQ
For the past few days, I have been at Mum's. The gist of it is:
1) This past summer was the first that I did not stay with her since the split up.
2) About 4 times a year I have to come here for the medical resources. I am beginning to think that I can get the same care more local, but I am not going to get into that.
3) Travel will be soon a bit sketchier, so visiting while I can.
Monday was kinda like Drs of one kind or another all day. (How hard can it be to draw blood from someone you can practically see through? I don't need an x-ray, just hold me up in front of a candle.)
Yesterday we shopped. I am not big on shopping, but it was okay.
Last night, over Chinese take-out, we had an interesting conversation.
We had /the/ sex talk a long time ago, but it had been years since we just talked about sex and relationships. It just had not really been relevant, you know? By the time it became (parts of it) relevant I was with Dad - and Dad & my relationship is more conducive to that kind of conversation. -- and in that parental communicative way, they shared notes.
So Mum was all like:
Is there a guy you like?
Nope.
Surely someone you fancy...
Nope.
...think is hot stuff?
Nope.
Not even a little crush?
Nope
A girl?
Nope.
Not even a little crush?
Okay, yeah, Mum, maybe.
Really? A girl? Do I know her?
Yeah, you do. - I said with a grin so she would not take it harshly - You slept with her.
She blushed. (I think I (euphemistically) used the word "slept" - which is ironic because I slept with her too, but literally. Long story.) It was true. I have a crush, if you will, a non-sexual girl-crush on my Mum's first girlfriend.
Then I was like:
You know how I feel about Amy (<-- not her real name, by the way). I love her very much, but I'm not having "romantic" feelings towards her or anyone.
No one?
No one.
What about Clair? (<-- not her real name, by the way)
We're just friends Mum. And she likes boys.
Does she have a boyfriend?
Nope.
You know, I married your father, and I still love him very much, but...
Not every girl in the world is secretly gay. And just because I am scared of boys, doesn't mean I'm a lesbian too. (Oh, Mum's lesbian. I went on.) Which would be okay if I was, but I am just nothing, okay?
Okay.
Really?
Okay.
Good.
But who do you find attractive?
(mental uhg. I rolled my eyes and through my fortune cookie at her.)
Then we named celebrities that we thought were good looking.
Dad and I would sit sometimes watching people walk by and point out who we thought was good looking and I would punch him whenever he looked at a girl that was too young for him. Same sort of thing. But without the punching.
I can appreciate a good looking person, boy or girl, but once I start to think about a guy being a guy.... and the anatomical ramifications of that... I freak out. There are people, guys, I have a very hard time being in the same room with because of this phenomenon. Sometimes I even get that way with Dad. Usually I just go to my room, other times I can't move and he has to leave the room. That reminds me of another story, that is still to new to not be funny yet. But I digress.
So, convinced that I had an eye for pretty people, but no juicy stories to tell Mum, we started talking about her relationships. She has had a hard time of things. She never really came out, you know? Not publicly. So I got to hear about her triumphs and frustrations. She expressed that she felt a little like a bad parent for having this kind of talk with me. She decided that it does not bother her that she will have no grandkids.
Oh - in case you did not know, I will not be reproducing. Aint gonna happen.
We did talk a little about the lack of physiological progress I am making and how I do not care to get medical treatment for it. I don't feel like I am missing out on anything by not having started puberty. We had been through all this before and I have enough to worry about. So, Mum was like, it is no wonder you have no interest in sex.
Well, that is a big part of it. I can't talk about my inner fears with her, or anyone. Not really. I can say that I _have_ them, but not what they are. It is not my intention to withhold this from her, from my shrink, even from Dad and my friends. There is just something in there... that rotten place I call my mind... that shuts me down. I tried, you know? I really tried to share with her, but I locked up. She called Dad and let me sleep it off. When I woke up we had ice cream.
I could go on, but Mum is up and making breakfast. I should go make sure she does not do anything weird with it.
This is all TMI as is, but I am going to post it right quick and edit it later. It is not like anyone reads it anyway.
Take Care
LQ
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