Month: March 2015

Walkies

Paul and I had a simply lovely walk down at the Quay and then he treated me to sopa de tortilla and hot chocolate, both of which were simply scrumptious (Paul owned to being impressed at how fast I demolished the soup).  We didn’t give blood, thanks to things&stuff because reasons, but there’s an appointment later this week.

I broke down and made an appointment to get a crown, having previously thought that handing over a month’s income was a bit much and then I realized I was being a moron.  I can borrow the money, I can sell stuff to cover it, I can put it on my credit card.  It really hurts – I’m in constant tooth pain – and we KNOW how this story goes.  Until the tooth comes out, it’s all downhill from here.  And it’s all because there was a piece of metal in a pancake at IHOP two years ago.  Shit.

Doxie sent me another scanning unit, which took a charge promptly and which I am about to test.  DOXIE HAS AWESOME CUSTOMER SUPPORT Y’ALL and considering what a tempestuous clown I was asking for support it goes double.

Keith and Paul and Jeff and I hung out after the walk.

Tarot reading yesterday with a friend.  It was essentially the same as the last one, in that it said “Shit’s gonna fly, everything will be okay at the end.”  More specifics don’t seem to be coming.  The future’s uncertain and the end is always near.

Katie is hopefully coming Friday, with Alex, to cut my hair.

Miles does it again

My filking buddy Andrew, who goes by Miles Vorkosigan on facebook, read or pretended to read a book that would allow you to write better horror.

The book made him facepalm.  So he decided to write a trashy horror novelists description of a facepalm, and then got carried away and did multiple versions.  I hope you enjoy this cascade of awful as much as I did, because I laughed until I sprang a rib.  Since I didn’t write this, copyright belongs to Andrew.

 

ABOMINATIONS OF HUMAN ENDEAVOUR: Before reading this book: “Face, meet palm.”

After reading this book:

My palm described a perfect arc as it rushed towards my face.

There was an audible CLAP as my palm struck my face.

I felt a sharp stab of pain, every bit as intense as the emotional pain I felt from reading this link, as I struck my own face with my palm.

Before my face even had time to brace for the impact, my palm was upon it.

My palm swished through the air and landed with a dull, sickening thud across my face.

It was like that legendary baseball game back in ’42, when Babe Ruth hit the winning run right out of the park–only instead of the final, inexorable crack of the bat hitting the ball, it was the final, inexorable crack of my palm meeting my face.

My palm struck my face with all the impact of a Mack Semi, having left Chicago heading east at 2:pm at 60 mph, colliding with a freight train that left Cleveland heading west at 1 p.m. travelling 80 mph.

Out there, in the darkness, something *watched* me facepalm myself.

My palm was out there at the end of my arm, mocking me. “Mi-yuls”, it seemed to say, “Here I am, Mi-yuls! And I’m coming to GET you! You know you lose control over me when you read something breathtakingly stupid enough—you always do. And now it’s party time. I’m coming for your face. And I’m hard. Hard and calloused from that workout this morning. And sweaty too. Get ready, Mi-yuls, for the mother of all facepalms!”

Once again…. this is Andrew’s, but really I think it belongs to the world.

Colonialism rant

The crowning achievement of colonialism is how it has tapped into the human genome to recycle itself. The finely woven threads, the self-repairing structures of racism and sexism, fear of the other, the urge to destroy that which is experienced as diseased and loathsome, they all belong to colonialism, which I am now going to conflate with the human tendency to devalue other human beings based on feelings of disgust rather than facts. Now science brings us the truth behind the experience of conservatism, that it is based in physical disgust.

This disgust results in things as various as the relentless offering of young men to death in warfare, and old men fighting against young women guarding their fertility as they see fit in consequence. Generation after generation of old powerful men, in whatever culture and of whatever colour, offer young men into the maw of war and conquest, having dragged them from their parents’ arms and essentially from the mother’s womb. Kind people on the sidelines weep with loss as this happens generation after generation.

I have been struggling all my life with this fundamental flaw in human nature, the place where the sociability of human beings, which is quite remarkable, breaks down. Now I see it. It is in the rock-crusher of our capacity to feel deep, emotional, physical disgust that we are broken into pieces and fed into colonialism. It seems circular, and it is. There is a constant value, circulating in the human genome, of persons who feel disgust more readily, inbuilt and coiled in every cell. They will, being of a certain neurotype, congregate, and then they will amass resources and make of their disgust a common, noble reason to make war on anybody on the outside of the group.

Jesus God.

Hmmm

Slept away from home last night; Mike was really late getting out of work for our celebratory “You had an interview!” dinner and we picked up some beer and went back to his place.  About 9 I pumpkined out on the couch… and slept straight through until 6 am this morning, which I haven’t done in yonks. (I only had two beers, for those attempting censoriousness).

Mike fed me coffee with vanilla ice cream, and carrot cake marmalade courtesy of Cassidy, and toast.  We drank coffee on the balcony and watched the morning sun wash over the landscape, which was chilly but most pleasant.

I light a candle for a friend whose mother has just been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.  I feel for her.  The 5 year survival rate is crappy.  Heavy heart.

woo hoo!!!

4.9 hours last night.  I feel quite bright-eyed, although I don’t reckon my tail’s that bushy.    The secret appears to be having an iron-clad routine before bed and lying in a specific position as I’m trying to sleep.  This is wacky; positions good for my back are not great for the cpap, etc. etc.  I’m designing a bed to deal with my woes; I already designed a zero-g bed so How Hard Can It Be?  This is an automated hammock bed that senses your position and pays out or reels in support depending on ‘where your head is at’ according to the sensor.  Hey, sf is my life.  Cats would hate it though; the bed when in use is more like an electronic hammock than the staid and steady horizontal mass of comfy.

Interview is midmorning. I got a letter of recommendation in hand, maybe two.

 

Buster’s continuing antics

Buster came into my room while I was wearing my cpap mask.  He very slowly inched toward me, eyes narrowed, and gave a very soft and disturbed mew of “Why do you have an octopus on your face?” His eyes traveled along the length of the hose and back up to my face.  He left, slowly and perplexedly.  Yesterday he tied a knot in something, always an interesting feat when you don’t have thumbs.

Later he tried to come back into my room, but Margot was guarding my door so she hissed at him and he backed off.

2.2 hours last night. Sue’s coming to get me at 10 and bringing me straight home, she has a rehearsal.  Then a nice long chat on the phone with a former coworker, and getting my interview clothes together.

Diddy-wah GRR

Buster, you are a CRAZY MAKING CAT.

He came in, feet wet and filthy with more than the normal grime, and I decided to clean off his paws before he tracked the schmutz ev’y’where.  Without biting or scratching – a masterful demonstration of tension and torsion – he resisted so hard I pulled something and it feels like the last time I had costochondritis.  I grabbed the scruff of his neck and said, quietly, “You will do as you are told.”  He promptly lay on the floor and let me minister to him, and wipe his feet dry, with no further resistance.  Now I feel like I went nine rounds with a baby goat and all of its pointy little hooves, at 4 am, hallelujah.

On his account we bought toddler proofing for the cupboards…

Only half an hour last night.  Not sure what happened there.  I don’t remember taking the mask off.

400 words yesterday.

I have an interview Monday.

 

Why you shouldn’t buy a Hummer

It just seems like the end of civilization to me.

2.2 hours.

Civilian tilt rotor aircraft?  All I can think of is the maintenance.

Keith came by yesterday and pumped up my tires and did a pre flight check on my bicycle.  I am now ready to do a shop via bicycle.

I’ve gotten back into practicing every day, which means that every once in a while I fondle my callouses.  We’ve booked another musical evening at Paul’s for the 17th of April. SO looking forward to it.  Sue and Brian can’t come (already got some answers back, waa.)

Crappy maintenance and poor planning on the part of SFU crash the hopes of single women trying to get a career together.

They put filk music in quotes and rilly rilly pissed me off. A lot about this article is if not wrong, then wrongheaded.

Buster’s toy

There was a baby mouse running around the house.  The plan was to let Buster catch it and then remove it, and that’s what we did, but Buster was not amused at the loss of his most interesting and nice smelling toy.

Keith came over to watch the last episode of Ken Burns’ The Civil War and to assist me with giving my bike a once over now that it appears to be spring with very few hints it’s going to go much below freezing over night.  My bike now has full tires and a cleaned and lubricated chain, and the tail light works and I need to get a proper headlamp.

I’m off to the dentist tomorrow to get a chipped tooth looked at.

Sandy’s back from Halifax, and this time she did not have the complete devastation of her water system as a welcome home surprise.

short night

1.8 hours.

 

The appropriate use of force doesn’t seem to get taught in the clown colleges graduating police these days.

Waiting and hoping for a call for an interview.  There hasn’t been anything to apply for in the last little while.

Life goes on regardless….