Settler words&music in S'ólh Téméxw, (leanpub.com/upsun) living where privilege meets precarity in MST country. she/her/they———– Novels: Midnite Moving Co., Upsun; Sweep Off Those Waves coming soon, Hair Sinister after that. —Restore All Indigenous Lands!
Disaster struck recently for coworker Tanya. She has one possible chance to recover the pix from her Hawaiian vacation, but as things currently stand they may be lost, except for the few little pics she posted to facebook.
BACK UP YOUR DATA.
And I should take my own advice……….
Has anybody ever noticed that one of the enduring tropes of humour is the nut shot? I’ve said before that anything can be explained by ‘following the genes’ and this one is pretty simple.
What makes a nut shot funny? Well, it’s happening to somebody else. That’s pretty standard for all humour. But notice the division of humour. Men almost inevitably find the nut shot more amusing than women do. Any action which potentially removes a rival from any activities resulting in offspring is going to be a-ok; if it’s accompanied by humiliation and dominance, that makes it even tastier.
I have heard some women remark that a man could use a good swift kick in the ‘nads, but it’s almost inevitably in the context that the guy is an asshole, the guy is abusing his power, or he’s sleeping around on his pregnant wife, an activity which draws a lot of heat even from women with a relaxed attitude towards sex.
Can you tell I’ve been living with Jeff for the best part of a year? I’m enjoying it, even if it has me meditating on the nut shot at 4 am. Not because I want him to experience one – I grew out of that 40 years ago – but because he laughs his ass off every time he sees one. Especially on Robot Chicken, which has a high NSPE rating (Nut Shots Per Episode).
This is how everybody uses a cell phone, including me.
Obama was inaugurated. He’s doing something about Gitmo, and about bloody time.
Normally I don’t watch, and I don’t care. But the Eagles Cardinals game yesterday was awesome, and I think I’m in love with Larry Fitzgerald. His play in the first half was enough to make watching football seem like a rational activity. Then the Steelers won, but holy crap, it wasn’t nearly as fun a game and the injuries were pretty much continuous.
On another subject…Gosh, I miss all the fun. I have to wonder if ScaryClown had something to do with it. And all the people who read this blog who’ve quit drinking are probably happy to be reminded of how stupid it all was.
With all the paper and crap put away, the acoustics in my room have changed. It is very odd.
I am sad to report that my second zombie heart was a miserable failure. It went into the oven okay, but sagged terribly and now looks…. Well, I’ll finish it anyway and post a pic, but next time I’ll make the base bigger. Let’s just say it’s a differently abled zombie heart. We went to Michael’s and got more sculpey and paint and clayworking tools. Jeff declared himself allergic to the Muzak, and I told him I was tempted to tell him he wasn’t the target audience (it was screechy girl stuff). I also wanted to quote Katie K about the “all Jann Arden all the time” station here in Vancouver. As in, she doesn’t like it.
Biscotti got cooked.
I also made spaghetti and meat balls – Keith even ate some. It was good to see him.
Otherwise I didn’t do much yesterday but I feel refreshed and rested… back to work!
I had a wonderful day and evening, sorting papers and rendering my room quite tidy, and then visiting at Planet Bachelor, where for an extra special bonus there was Jim, Jan and Nita (who was just back from a demonstration re Gaza in Surrey). Nita is at VCC – like Katie, but at a different campus – taking heavy equipment repair, go women in trades.
After Paul picked me up – accompanied by Keith, who promptly started asking me pointed questions about my parenting, or lack of it – we went to Burnaby Mountain and looked down over the city. There were kids sliding down the hill in the purest, most mood elevating sunshine, on that grainy crystalline snow that Paul calls corn snow, and the city itself was resting under an enormous smooth blanket of fog. I was very glad to get up the hill in the sun however briefly, and Mt. Baker on the way down the hill was so beautiful…
The pork roast Paul cooked was better than anything I’ve produced recently, the company was awesome, and then I had a miserable ride home on the transit. 25 minute wait for the 106; seconds of waiting for the Skytrain, and then another 25 minute wait for the 25 bus. I was so chilled when I got home that it took me about half an hour to warm up enough to go to sleep. Note to self – dress for the outside, not the inside, dummy.
This morning I decided I had no interest in the Mexican coffee that I am finding kinda bitter and savourless, so I cracked open the Sumatran, and the aroma that is currently permeating the kitchen could be used to waft angels home. Happy sigh.
I hear from Lady Miss B that Vixy (half of noted filk due Vixy and Tony) will be watching the inauguration live. I am happy for her. It’s an historic moment and I’m glad that someone I know will be there.
This is the ‘year’ I cast at Jarmo and Susana’s New Year’s Eve:
Many of these pieces of footage you will have seen already, but you likely haven’t seen all of them. An amazing demonstration of good fortune.
Sniff, I am so sentimental….
Last night when I was coming home I realized I wanted retail therapy, so I got Robaxicet, a teach yourself to read music book (which actually taught me something I had not understood before in the first five minutes, so that was useful), a miniature Gumby and Pokey set for Jeff, Ecuadorian chocolate, Cutthroat beer & a proper set of headphones for work including volume control. Now of course I realize that I’m an idiot and I just should have gone straight home, so I would have avoided a broken down bus and…
ick….
wait for it….
auditions for Canada’s Next Top Model in Brentwood Mall – when the batteries in my camera had just quit. Oh, and my cell phone batteries quit in tandem, so I couldn’t fire off an irritated text message to Jeff. I wanted to take a picture of the swarm of identical, malnourished, streak haired, pointy faced hopefuls, but instead I got an eyeful of leering men and resigned looking parents. Rechargeable NiMh batteries do not cut it for this application.
I am just about finished my laundry, finally, and will be moving on to other interesting events today, like trying to sweet talk Jeff into accompanying me on a shopping expedition. Yes, I know, but I want two things you can’t get nearby or easily, being my favourite kind of soap (French, honeysuckle scented) and more Sculpey so Katie can finish her chess set. And more paint. I think I need blue, clear coat, and maybe a bronze or silver metallic. And a fatter brush so I can really slop it on. ScaryClown says he paints everything he does flat black and then paints overtop of that. I will defer to the master on that one. He has severely restricted his alcohol intake, but frankly, he doesn’t look happier. And he’s bringing his lunches these days. So has the Dalai Jarmo, but that’s traditional for Finnfolk in early January, and he looks very happy these days and he’s going to be sitting close but not too close to me in the new regime. PS note to self I need one of those who the **** is behind me mirrors for work.
Katie, bless her, did not actually look for work yesterday, rrr. But Keith fitted his first set of contact lenses (perfectly, so he says) the day before yesterday so it appears that continuing to support his efforts to get edumacated is wise.
Jim and Jan are here this weekend and I can’t wait to see them. They are so wonderful. I wish I could just buy a city block and move everybody I love here. Except that many of them, like a kitty cat struggling to escape, would not be happy about living in Vancouver. It’s a nice place to visit, etc. And when I get a house I want laundry on the same level as my bedroom. I got that when I was living in the Cornerstone building and gosh darn, I want that again, although that might have something to do with how steep the basement stairs are. I nearly fell down them this week and it was scary as hell, because Jeff had his headphones on and I might have had a very poor time of it.
Biscotti. Again. I will be shipping it off to people by mail.
Valentine cards. Since I am sending work valentines to Barcelona, California, Indiana and Washington, I have to start early this year. There are 150 people on the list!!! I have created a monster, yet again.
I know somebody personally who is going to the inauguration, and I will be able to hear about it later this month. Me happy.
It is high time for me to put an end to your sitting in this place, which you have dishonored by your contempt of all virtue, and defiled by your practice of every vice; ye are a factious crew, and enemies to all good government; ye are a pack of mercenary wretches, and would like Esau sell your country for a mess of pottage, and like Judas betray your God for a few pieces of money.Is there a single virtue now remaining amongst you? Is there one vice you do not possess? Ye have no more religion than my horse; gold is your God; which of you have not barter’d your conscience for bribes? Is there a man amongst you that has the least care for the good of the Commonwealth?
Ye sordid prostitutes, have you not defil’d this sacred place, and turn’d the Lord’s temple into a den of thieves, by your immoral principles and wicked practices? Ye are grown intolerably odious to the whole nation; you were deputed here by the people to get grievances redress’d, are yourselves become the greatest grievance.
Your country therefore calls upon me to cleanse this Augean stable, by putting a final period to your iniquitous proceedings in this House; and which by God’s help, and the strength he has given me, I am now come to do; I command ye therefore, upon the peril of your lives, to depart immediately out of this place; go, get you out!
Make haste! Ye venal slaves be gone! So! Take away that shining bauble there, and lock up the doors. In the name of God, go!
Good one, Oliver….
SINCE I don’t know which of the two links I posted originally to this time stamp was a problem I’m taking them both down.
The first link was to an article by Marcus Chown – who, when I follow his google trail sounds like He Do the Science in Different Voices. If you google Marcus Chown Holographic, you will find the article.
Essentially, there is now a small amount of experimental support for the notion that everything we are, see, etc, is a holographic projection. Where string theory and quasars fits in with this I have no idea. I am just a meat machine, and my thinky thoughts sometimes are not well parsed.
They say that housing prices haven’t dropped much in Vancouver, but I beg to differ. Three months ago, the last time I did a thorough search for a house which met my price, amenity and location criteria, there was precisely one house – which is still for sale. There are now nine.
I am even more astonished that one of these houses has three separate suites and $2K rental income.
