Monday, August 31, 2009

Actual Conversation #74 - because Sea-Bugs need love too!

talula: ok back
me: Oh good. You're just in time to hear about the formation of the Lobster Absconding and Repatriation Campaign.
LARC for short.
talula: okay
not to be confused with LARP
me: Yes. Because that would just be...weird.
Lobsters don't wear clothes.
And they can't roll dice.
talula: right.
me: Do you know about the joke with lobsters between Bob and I?
talula: yes
me: Okay.
We decided to do a good deed while we're in Maine this weekend.
talula: hehe okay
me: We're going to go buy two live lobsters and sneak them out to the end of a dock somewhere, then let them go.
talula: aww hahahah nice
me: ^_^
talula: remember to take off the rubber bands on their claws.
me: Oh yes.
Otherwise it's like Here, you're free! I hope you like Compton!
And the guy's still handcuffed.
talula: right
nice analogy
me: :D

Saturday, August 29, 2009

~What did you THINK was going to happen...??~

We have an assortment of regular visitors around our humble abode here thanks to the trees and "rough" they leave up for the golf course to separate it from what basically constitutes our backyards. I've come to recognize the same mockingbirds, doves, goldfinches, squirrel and rabbit that stop by every day checking if I've thrown something awesome out the back door. I'm a popular lady when I get rid of stale cookies, even the crows show up and risk a nibble.
The honey and I were up in the office this afternoon discussing the finer points of Champions Online and our excitement concerning its official release to the world, as well as attempting to lock down the character names and designs we'd come to love over the past 2 weeks of playing it. I think this will be my new addictive MMO now that WoW is slowly dying for me. (And I cannot convey how pissed I am about the upcoming x-pac Cataclysm. DON'T DROWN FERALAS, DAMNIT! And publish some non-fuzzy maps about which zones are getting pwned so I can see better what I'll be losing. >:( )
As we were talking amicably about multiple things, I saw a brown shape dart out of our yard and in to the street, fast enough to catch my attention. I then realized it was our young rabbit that hangs out, as he has very light patches of brown and tan on his sides and an almost wirey mohawk of dark-brown over his haunches. He was out there in the middle of the road, just sitting and looking around.
"Oh no, he's gonna get run over out there!" I exclaimed, motioning wildly out the window. Suddenly all talk of Champions Online was secondary, as the life of our young friend was in the balance. I had images of jeeps screeching around that corner and hitting him as he panicked and tried to flee. Why would a Jeep come screeching around the corner? Well, because ~I~ come screeching around the corner. And I assume everyone else drives as deplorably as I do.
Thinking by the time I ran downstairs a car might come and already do the deed, I floundered a bit before hitting upon the ultimate idea: open the window. And so I did.
I ripped the sash up a good foot, stuck my head against the screen, and hollered "GET OUT OF THE ROAD, YER GONNA GET YOURSELF KILLED!"

I would like to point out at this time that I actually paused in my day to lean out a window and scream at a rabbit. Just so we're all on the same page here, hold that image in your mind, would you please?

As soon as I started hollering the rabbit froze. Then upon me ending my bellowing, the young thing took off in a flash, crossing the rest of the road and up in to the high grass on the other side, fat and green from all of this rain we've been getting.
Satisfied and yet shocked by the rapid response, and the fact that it ~worked~, I fell backwards in to my office chair and laughed for about, oh, 5 minutes. Bob looked at me as if I were nuts (for not thinking making loud noises at a skittish animal would cause it to run, not because I did the yelling. Love that man.) then joined me for a few seconds in laughing, probably because I was laughing so hard it was about the only noise he could conceivably make in that instant that wouldn't completely derail the space-time continuum. Proper social interaction, after all, can do that.
So that was my good deed for the day. I yelled at a bunny to save his life. Some days that's how it rolls.

Friday, August 28, 2009

Actual Conversation # 73 ~ replenishing cat-destroyed supplies within the house

gru: Btw, I'm gonna leave at 2 so I'll just wait on lunch til then. If there's anything you want me to pick up on my home, I shall.
me: lemons, lemon oil and hydrogen peroxide. hair of newt. Eye of frog, tongue of bat, soapwort, and maybe some devil's powder.
Oh, definitely blackening salt.
And dragon's blood, since Chaucer ATE it all.
gru: I was thinking like....burgers, maybe chinese or wings....
me: /blogged

Thursday, August 27, 2009

"It's too bad she won't live! But then again, who does? "

it's been a bit since I've written last, and I actually have several things banging around in my skull. The first is death, the second is life, and the various iterations thereof.
My grandmother died. She was not someone I knew well, and I remember her as being incredibly talented with a needle and colored thread. I remember thinking when I was little that there were bats in the upstairs hamper in Atlanta because we would get close to it and here squeaking noises (not realizing the AC vent was directly above it, of course.) I kept swearing I would open it each time we went there. It was so built up that when I finally did I don't even remember what was in there anymore. Odds and ends, not what I expected and certainly not bats. It was a bit of a letdown.
The last time I saw her she was surrounded by her family, getting to see babies for the first time. I recall great irritation at everyone's insistance at using a tone like she was a 6 year old, or a puppy we were trying to coax in to doing something. In light of that I made damned sure to moderate my voice and talk to her as if I were talking to anybody else in my family. The mind in her head was old and deserved some fucking respect, having seen things that I will not yet experience.
I brought up the observation to my Mom who apparently hadn't heard it (and did it just a little bit herself, though of everyone she was the best.) I'm not sure why we talk to people who's minds work a little bit differently as if they are less somehow. I see it all the time, the "child's tone", or even better, talking louder like someone is deaf. But per usual, I have digressed.
Death is a very personal thing despite the fact that we all experience it. Nobody can really know what exactly is affected by the hole left behind when someone leaves the earthly realm. It will come down to the fact that this person meant something to you, interacted with you in a certain way, and now that is unfulfilled. You are sad because that person is not there to interact with your life in some fashion and will not be again, and the unknown of what one should do with that change can be scary and overwhelming.
I have been lucky. The last time I dealt with the death of someone in the family he was a great uncle. I remember him fondly. But his death became known to us months (years?) after he actually died and what I have now is mostly a list of thoughts about not being able to chat with him again. He was very interesting and engaging. But there is no gnashing of teeth or weeping. It's clinical to the point that I do worry maybe I should be concerned. But then again, I've only ever had to look death in the face when losing pets. I must say that I worry about my brain when I realize I cried more when one of the cats died than when I found out about my grandmother.
Perhaps what was more confusing was that I did cry at all. It had been my basic opinion that she didn't concern herself with me too much, or got news about me from Mom and was happy with that. In her later years I assumed she didn't really remember who I was since I hadn't been a regular fixture in her day-to-day. Basically, I assumed my way out of her life and decided for her how she would be relating to me. She had other things going on, and one anti-social grandchild who remembered to knit her a scarf one time was probably not worth throwing energy at.
In shock from crying, I was able to take a step back and try to figure out what was going on... and it was about that loss, once again. It was for the bitter "what might have been", and for the knowledge and experience that was gone now, not to be retrieved. I imagine hers was a hard life, one that probably would've made a good movie that went in to prime-time at the beginning and was replayed constantly on Lifetime TV on the weekends thereafter. It was the finality of it, the fact that you could spend your life doing the greatest of things or the worst of things and then when you die, all of it means nothing. There is no coming back. All that you are ends with that last breath. The idea had never hit me so abruptly. There was the moment to talk with her and get to know her, learn something of what she'd learned and been through and loved. And now that moment has passed. Time has this solid policy about not moving backwards for anyone.
I could go on about this but the rest is all mostly incidentals. Like the surprise I got when I realized I had no idea how you went about dealing with the dead in american society aside from wearing black to the funeral. I know more about the death procedures in Japan than I do within my own family. Wow. Color me blindsided by my own assumptions again. I figured I would know what to do when the time came. Now I find I'm not even sure what is "right", and if what is 'right" is healthy, and even beyond that, if what is "right" is something that I could do and stay true to my thoughts and intentions. I would happily celebrate the woman's life. I will not be shamed in to shedding crocodile tears at her memorial, though.
Thankfully my good friend who has almost graduated with her masters of psychology, saw an opportunity to do a field-test on me and ran down questions about how I felt and details of things. It irked me, mostly, that she was shotgunning questions at me so fast without seeming to take the details in. Yet conversely (and somewhat to my amusement) she was initially the only one who had said dick to me about it after I started telling people. most other folk seemed to ignore the fact completely, infer that I should soldier on (courtesy of UoP, thx keke diaf.) or just didn't talk to me for a few days. My friend Blake alone gave me the greatest piece of advice I think anybody had in a while; "Go with your gut."
And so I shall. Which is why I can laugh and tell jokes while waiting to find out when I need to go stand at the burial plot of my progenitor, the reason that I can write these words out now. And why I can let myself smile at the thought of bringing a puppy home tomorrow to start a life with. My gut has always been excellent at letting me know what I should be doing, and recently I've actually done myself the favor of beginning to listen to it again. Right now it tells me that whatever comes is okay, because only I know what death means to me, and only I can cry my tears at the right time for me.
Perhaps a bit deeper than I normally wax. Or perhaps not at all and this is more emotionally charged than most things, making it more noteworthy? Who knows. But it has brought a lot of things in to sharp focus. Hopefully I'll remember it going forward. We only have this moment now. But at the same time, there's nothing ~but~ this moment.
The puppy.... hmm.
Well, we saw an ad that there was a local family that had a litter of German Shepherds available to go home. Honey and I had talked a lot about getting one, especially since we're about to be married and looking for a new house. it's odd to be considering "settling down" and being happy at the thought. I never really saw myself as someone that would do that. But I want a dog to play with and walk and to harass the cats. I want a house that's ours to decorate or demolish as we see fit and who's walls I can paint. And I want to marry this man and make him my husband like nothing else. So it seems to come together and has caught me off guard.
It feels good bringing new life in. I keep thinking in my head that when the puppy is older it'll be perfect to protect me when I'm home alone and pregnant. And then I have to pause and backtrack and make sure that I heard myself right in my head... because I'd really only tossed the idea of a child around in passing. Either I associate dogs with protecting pregnant women in general, or my subconscious slipped up and told me my biological clock is being a bitch. Either way, the puppy will be here shortly, no matter what the breed or sex. We got the supplies this evening. I looked down at the tug-rope and felt a sensation wash over me that is probably familiar to parents decorating their first child's nursery. Expectation, and a little bit of excitement.
it's odd to think that the animal we bring home today will probably outlive all 3 of the cats we have in the house now. But I figure if we bring it home and introduce it to Chaucer, letting him know that the dog is here to watch over me when he can't anymore might make things go a bit easier. Even the inimicable cat o'mine must return to the dust.
I actually hesitated for long moments in considering getting a dog, thinking it would be one more thing to cry over once it died, too. Somehow the sense of loving something and living one's life with regard for but not surrendering to fear of the pain inherent in it being worth far more in the long run weaseled its way in and wrestled me away from that bit of melancholy.
Death is the fairest thing of all. It is the last thing all of us experience.

"I've seen things you people wouldn't believe.
Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion.
I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser gate.
All those moments will be lost in time...
like tears in rain...
Time to die."
~Roy Batty, Bladerunner (1982)

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Because a pad of paper was not in reach and I am vury tired...

A few quick projects I want to attempt before the end this year:

~enter Holgapalooza with at least one shot.
~Create a calendar with 12 months of lomography shots.
~Submit some short stories to magazines.
~write out a few more short stories
~wirewrap some beachglass and make hemp necklaces with those as pendants.
~finish the amigurumi Hellbear and Chocobo I started last year.
~coding the stupid fishtank project in the Java book we got.
~get the Dead Rising achievement on the Xbox360 for staying on the roof all 72 hours (if it actually exists)
~finish reading all the manga brought home from ConnectiCon

I've got other stuff, but that's all the stuff I forgot to write down on my handy-dandy whiteboard when I was setting up my to-do list earlier. it's 2 am and I won't remember from the time I get up from the laptop to walk upstairs to the whiteboard. Lame, but at least it's listed somewhere!

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

And lo, the mighty state of Penn's Woods said thou art as the leech in the canal, and shall suck the lifeblood of our coffers in your down-time...

The state of Pennsylvania says I was a good worker-bee and deserve some money for not being a previous burden. I'll be seeing it shortly.
I get 26 weeks to find a new job, as well. Can't really complain about that, especially with everything that's going on with school and the wedding, etc...

It's a bit of a relief, because it means I'll be able to at least pay some of the bills coming in. But on the other hand... I'm taking money from the state. And I can't get over how much of a leech it makes me feel. Like somehow I've failed because I didn't bounce straight to another job as I've been able to the last 6 years.

The side of me that invests heavily in logic and the side of me that honors what my parents told me about working your hardest and not taking hand outs are at war inside of me. I have relief, and guilt over the relief, and guilt over the source of relief. I'm almost Jewish in all of this.

At least I can pay for my car, and my phone, and the internet and rent... at least we won't have huge problems because of my lack of training in the past and my slowness to acquire new training to move forward. At least we can eat, and at least I'm warm and have friends who lend me business suits for interviews and are willing to drive across creation to attend a wedding I can't properly reimburse- or thank people enough- for attending. And at least I have all of this time to focus on how I'm letting my thoughts on who I ~should~ be interrupt who I am in this moment.

Friday, August 7, 2009

Hajimamashite! Nakamura Kumiko desu!

I rarely do these anymore, but this was kinda cute. I used my soon-to-be last name "Kaelin" to generate it.

My authentic japanese name is 中村 Nakamura (center of the village) 久美子 Kumiko (eternal beautiful child).
Take your real japanese name generator! today!
Created with Rum and Monkey's Name Generator Generator.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

ConnectiCon 2009

I love this convention. It was not my first, but it was my favorite of all the ones we hit in the great Summer of Learning How to Handle Cons. Returning to it I find that once again it does not disappoint me. Well, except for the missing cosplayer who was dressed up as Bruce Willis with a sandwich board on that said "Cosplayers Suck.". (Name that movie!) I was hoping he would be back so I could take his picture.
Thus far we have listened to Cyanice and Happiness cover for xkcd, who was late to the panel because of the Biblical thunderstorm washing out bridges and highways (and in his words "I was down to only 2 oxen."). He's actually a very funny guy, but looks VERY different than one might imagine. He's a bit soft spoken, but very articulate. Tends to drift when he is trying to pass along information to help others out, but always nice.
A few things we saw that we can't unsee:
~the LICD panel. They came in with a bottle of Baileys and emptied it. The banter devolved accordingly
~3 fat Chobits cosplayers and one emaciated one. also, 2 who didn't look like the dress was about to slide off their sholders.
~A web cartoonist looking down at me and saying "Wow, you've got a really wide ribcage." (How does one respond to that, anyway?)
~A furry. A not well done furry. In dayglow orange shag carpeting.
~Two web cartoonist dancing the whitest dance moves we have seen in ages... in an attempt to raise bids for charity, no less.
~A conga line of everybody who came as Team Fortress 2 cosplayers
~Sooo many "goddess sized" gosu-rori girls I ran out of numbers. It has convinced me not to attempt the style until I've shed at least 20 lbs.
~Optimus Prime made out of metallic wrapping paper and plastic wrap. And that's it. No frame underneath. He crinkled with every movement.
~Lar Desouza (artist for LICD and LFG) sporting what appears to be a leopard-print Shriner's cap.
~A child dressed up as Batman with the proper mask and cape... but body was a cardboard box with arm and head holes painted grey and black. (think old-school batman, B:tAS-style)
~Cat girls. You can't swing a stick without hitting one.
~A math and engineering geek with web cartoon brought in a longer line and bigger standing crowds for his panel than any other panel in the entire convention.
~A strange abundance of top hats and fedoras among the male of the species.
~Bob just now screaming "Yay for metaphysical fortitude! YAY! YAAAAAY!" in response to my comment that he didn't really appear to want me to wake him, as had been previously requested.

So like I said... it's been good. But now it is time for dinner and we go forth into Hartford in search of something to eat. There will probably be more forthcoming. It is, after all, only the evening of Day 2. :D