Farrago

Review of Northanger Abbey, Ch. 1

2009-10-27T10:33:00.000-07:00

Catherine Morland is introduced as the heroine. It is made very clear that she is not at all a heroine. She is not particularly talented or especially bright, she's rather plain (verging on ugly?), and her family is perfectly boring. As a youngster, she shirks the feminine pursuits of childhood, which, as far as I can tell constitute playing with dolls, for running around outside getting dirty a lot.

At 15, she starts to clean up a bit and becomes slightly more interested in girly things, like fixing her hair and listening politely while other people play the piano. She takes up reading so she can learn witty or moralistic quotes to interject in conversation. Despite this mediocre effort from a likable but thoroughly mediocre girl, by the time she is 17 no one has fallen in love with her. In fact, it would seem no one has even taken more than a passing interest in her. (I can't imagine why.)

Fortunately for Catherine, Mr. Allen, the guy who owns most of the land around her village, has the gout and has to go to Bath. Mr. Allen's wife likes Catherine well enough and, since she's clearly not doing anything else pressing, asks her to come along. The parents agree, and Cathrine Morland sets off to Bath with the Allens.

Dice Bag Project

2009-09-21T15:22:00.000-07:00

Inspired by the d12 and d20 bags at Evil Mad Scientist Laboratories (thanks, Olivia!), I decided to try my hand at making dice bags that look like dice. Genius!

Unfortunately, I already have a totally awesome handmade dice bag I salvaged from an old dress. My husband is sentimentally attached to his made-in-China Jolly Roger bag (which now contains dice). My teenage cousin, who is of a suitably nerdy disposition, was coming up on a birthday, though. Target acquired. Originally I'd planned to make the d12 bag, but as my cousin is currently on a Warhammer kick, I decided to make a d6 bag instead. The fact that 6 sides is considerably less than 12 may have also factored into this decision.

I printed off the patterns from the Evil Mad Scientist website to use as a rough guide. I decided I wanted my d6 to be about 4 inches square (seems like a good size). I liked the numbers used in the d12 pattern, so I used Acrobat to enlarge and print them.

I wanted to retain the proportions of the numbers on an actual d6, so I measured. Turns out your average d6 is 1/2 inch tall, with 5/16 inch numbers. This means my numbers are 2.5 inches tall. Actually, due to the vagaries of Acrobat, they're a smidge over that, but I bet you wouldn't notice!

On to the fabric! I originally thought to use my cousin's Warhammer army's colors for the d6, but honestly, I didn't like the sound of his color scheme. After consulting with his mother, I decided to instead incorporate his favorite colors into the dice bag. I bought white felt for the numbers, black canvas for the exterior of the bag (since the Mad Scientist bag is made of canvas, it seemed like a safe bet), and a totally awesome blue and silver brocade fabric for the lining.

The instructions provided on the aforementioned website gave fabric amounts in square feet. As you may know, fabric can't usually be purchased in square feet. It comes on bolts. I bought 1 foot of the felt, and 2 feet of the canvas and lining fabrics. I also bought 2 feet of an iron on panel stiffener to give the sides of my d6 shape - I used Peltex 71F Single-sided Fusible Ultra Firm Stabilizer at the fabric-shop lady's recommendation. It looks like really stiff felt. I also got a 14 inch zipper, in black.

To start with, I made two templates. One is the 4-in square panel stiffener template. The other is the dual-purpose outer/liner template. It's 5 in. square (includes a 1/2 in. seam allowance), with the corners snipped off.

Using the templates I made, I cut out my numbers and canvas outer pieces. Then, I used Stitch Witchery to fuse the numbers onto the canvas.

Because I like to over-engineer things, I also sewed the numbers on, and later in the project, I was very glad I did.

Next, I fused the panel stiffeners to the back of the canvas outer panels. At this point, the outer panels are complete and I'm ready to start assembling things!

I wanted to add a fabric loop to the d6, something small and unobtrusive but sturdy and large enough to accommodate a carabiner. I just eyeballed this. I cut out a piece of black canvas that was several inches long and about 2 1/2 inches wide, and sewed it into a tube. Then, I struggled to turn the darn thing inside out for about half an hour, gave up, asked Max for help, and went downstairs to vacuum away my frustrations. About 20 minutes later, he'd managed to force the tube inside out. This was the most frustrating part of the whole project!!! Once the tube was sorted, it was a simple matter to attach it in between two of my panels (the 6 and the 3) and trim off the excess.

The next big thing is to put the zipper in, but to do that, I need my liner pieces. I'd been putting off cutting them out because I noticed my brocade fabric has a tendency to fray at the slightest provocation:

To combat this, I fused thin pieces of Stitch Witchery to the edges on the underside of the liner pieces.

I'm not sure how much of an effect this had, but my liner didn't whittle away into oblivion, so I'm happy with the results.

Next, I sewed three of my number panels together, end to end. These will form the sides of my box:

Then, I sewed three liner pieces together, like so:

At this point, it helps to do some conceptualizing. Imagine the d6 like a box, with the 6 as the lid. The 6 (lid) and the 3 (back) are already sewn together, with the loop in between them. This part will be the hinge. The other three sides of the 6 will be attached to a zipper, which will connect it to the rest of the sides of the box (in this case, panels 2, 4, and 5). The 1 is the box bottom. Also, there is the liner to consider. And of course, we want all the nasty seams on the inside so the finished product looks all spiffy, and not like some crazy cat lady cobbled it together while watching daytime television!

Now that the general idea's been worked out, it's time for the zipper. First, I attached one side of the zipper the side panels. Basically, I made a sandwich of the liner panels, the zipper, and the outer panels, in that order. It is important to note that the zipper should be UNZIPPED and the teeth should be pointing IN, towards the fabric. In other words, when I lined up the pieces to pin them together, the edge of the zipper I was touching was OUTSIDE edge. And of course, the liner and outer pieces should be right side in.

Then, it's a simple matter of sewing a straight line down the side of the three panels. I tried to sew right along the white fabric stiffener pieces, and just to the selvage side of the teeth of the zipper.

It's a good idea right now to check and make sure the zipper moves freely. Mine did. On to the next bit, attaching the zipper to the lid.

The outer lid pieces are already sewn together (6 and 3), so I sewed two liner pieces together and made the zipper sandwich, like before. This is where it gets tricky, though. This time, the zipper is not going in a straight line. I have to sew the zipper along three sides of the 6 panel. The important thing to remember here is that if the 2, 4, and 5 panels attached to the zipper are facing up, the zipper sandwich should be arranged so that the UNDERSIDES of the 6 and 3 panels are also facing up. You can kind of see this in the picture.

If you get this wrong, when you're finished the liner piece will be on the outside of the box lid, and the 6 panel will be on the inside - not good. Ask me how I know...

When sewing the zipper to the lid, it's important not to sew over the zipper teeth. Again, I wanted to sew just to the selvage side of the teeth. It's bulky in there, and those corners are pretty tight, so I had to [constantly remind myself to] work slowly and carefully! When I was done, I removed the pins and turned the lid right-side out:

Now, I have something that looks like this:

And if I zip it together, it looks almost like a d6!

But it wasn't there yet. I decided to sew the bottom onto the side pieces first, and then sew up remaining side seams, which will attach the body of the box (panels 2, 4, and 5) to the back and lid (panels 3 and 6). I started with the liner. First the bottom:

And then the sides:

Looking good!

...well, it looks good from that angle, anyway. What I have now is a complete liner box with an incomplete exterior:

Time to sew this one up! Just like with the liner, I sewed the bottom on first. In this pic, the box is on it's lid, and you can see insides of the box exterior. The bottom (panel 1) is at the far right, the back (panel 3) is in the foreground, and the other three panels are the sides (panels 2,4, and 5):

Sewing in 3D is hard.

Just like with the liner, I sewed the bottom onto the side pieces first.

Now all that's left is to sew the back and lid to the body of the box, by joining panels 3 & 5, 3 & 1, and 3 & 2.

Sides 3 & 5 and 3 & 1 are sewn together normally, but then I had to turn the box right-side out to sew 3 & 2 together. Skipping this step and sewing all the sides together while inside-out will result in a fabric balloon with all the numbered faces of the exterior panels on the INSIDE. Ask me how I know...

So, I turned the box right-side out through the hole created by the unsewn seam between panels 3 & 2. This was tricky because of the panel stiffener, and with all the turning inside-out and back again I'd been doing, I was VERY glad I took the time to actually sew the numbers onto the panels in the first place.

Once the box was right side out, I pulled the lining out through the lid, so it'd be safely out of the way. Then, I just folded the selvage edges down on each other, so all the ragged bits were on the inside, and sewed along the very edge of the outside of the box, like a French seam. I touched up the top of the seam near the zipper by hand.

And voila! It's a D6 of Dice Holding!!!

Really Long Post

2008-10-20T06:52:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning and couldn't even remember the last time I'd blogged. It seemed like, for a while, I wasn't blogging because there wasn't anything to blog about. Then, seemingly overnight, I wasn't blogging because there was too much. I decided to stop whining and start writing.

I noticed from the last post that there's been a request for pics of the home-grown produce project. I am planning to post pictures of our 6-foot tomato plants once their fruit actually ripens - right now, it's just lots of tiny green tomatoes!

Okay, so, starting with events more-or-less in order:

At the end of August, Max's grandmother, Joyce Wyver Hollands, passed away. She was an absolute delight and her loss is terrible. I flew out to meet Max after she passed (which brought up some strange issues with my in-laws that I'm sure will come up again, so I'll discuss them later), and things went surprisingly smoothly. Everyone pretty much held it together, and it was actually more pleasant and less somber than I had anticipated. As a plus, I got to meet some relatives for the first time, Max's unlce John (Sue's brother) and Jonathan Berry, Max's cousin from England. Both were great - witty and articulate (if a bit reserved, in uncle John's case), getting to know them was really the highlight of the trip. Jonathan is widely known as the extrovert in Max's family, and he lived up to his title. That man has been everywhere, seen everything, and really needs to write a book about it. It was like talking with James Bond.

There was no funeral or memorial service or anything, which I found a bit odd, but we did have a large family dinner in her honor, which was very nice (and delicious as always). Grandma Hollands always hated being fussed over, so I'm sure this was more her style, anyway.

A few weeks later, we went to the Addison Oktoberfest and had a good time, as usual. Our strange friend John Safranek entered (and won!) the German Idol yodeling contest hands down. I guess if you're gonna have a bizarre, uncool hobby, your only path to redemption is being very good at it.

The next weekend, we had our 1-year anniversary. We had dinner at Blue Fish on Greenville. It's a pretty nice sushi restaurant, however, it wasn't terribly romantic. I kept an eye on the first presidential debate on a TV over Max's shoulder during dinner. The ingredients were top-notch, but the chefs weren't as skilled as we had expected - the cuts weren't as clean as they should have been, and the presentation was just okay. The crab claw appetizer I had was spectacular, though, and we had a sake sampler of imported stuff that's not widely availabe here. Every sake in the sampler was one I'd never tried before, which was very cool. And of course, they were all spectacular.

Then, we stayed at the Renaissance hotel in Dallas, where we stayed for our wedding night. Initially, I was disappointed in the room. It was a small, generic hotel room with a spectacular veiw of the back parking lot - less than inspiring. So I mentioned it to the concierge to see if they could move us to a room on the other side of the building. Unfortunately, nothing was available, so... he upgraded us to a suite!!! It was WONDERFUL! The rooms were huge, the view was fantastic, and we had a great time. We also ordered cake from Romano's, the bakery that supplied our wedding cake. It was supposed to be white chocolate (our wedding cake flavor), but we somehow ended up with an amaretto-flavored cake. I was literally voicing my disappointment over the mix-up to Max in between large mouthfuls of cake when I realized, "Hey, this is really delicious!". I still thought about mentioning it to Romano's, but by the end of the weekend, the cake was more than half gone and I didn't really see the point in bringing it up. What would I say? "You messed up and gave me the wrong cake - it was still really good and I ate it... Thanks!"??? In the end, I just let it go.

The next day after breakfast in the hotel (which ended up being free, for reasons we still don't understand), we went to the 6th Floor Museum, since Max had never been. It was probably not the best choice for a wedding anniversary - presidential assassination being such a somber subject and all - but we had a really good time and I learned a lot, despite the fact that I've been to that museum countless times for school field trips. I guess you pay more attention to something when you're not FORCED to go. Also, it's kind of a mature topic, and I'm not sure how my teachers expected middle school students to "get it". What I "got" out of it on field trips was that I didn't have to go to math or P.E.; I imagine my colleagues were operating on similar levels. Anyway, the museum was great. If you go, skip the 7th floor. It was LAME. It's a whole bunch of terrible home videos from the day of the assassination with commentary like "Mr. Jones was out of town that day. It's too bad Mrs. Jones didn't know how to work the video camera, or we might've gotten some really amazing footage..." I kid you not. After the museum, we went to the Ginger Man, a pub in Uptown, had a nice time, and made our way back home feeling like we'd been on vacation, even though we'd barely left our zip code. It was really fantastic, actually.

The NEXT weekend, John (of yodeling-contest fame) and his wife Lauren invited us to go to the Richardson symphony with them - John won the tickets in the yodeling contest. (What are they trying to say with that, really? "Good job, now go listen to some real music, ya freak!"?!?) It was all German composers, and it was excellent. We heard Paul Hindemith's Symphonic Metamorphosis on Themes by Carl Maria von Weber (what a mouthful!), which was "meh", Franz Schubert's Symphony #1 in D major, which was very good, and Johannes Brahms' Piano Concerto #2 in B flat Major, which was OMGWTFAWESOME. Really, it was a magnificent piece of music, and if you ever have the opportunity to see it performed, GO. Just go. Even if you don't understand music and aren't a symphony fan, some things are just awesome. Like socks and hot dogs.

Then, just after the symphony, I really hurt myself at martial arts. Turns out those wrist-breaking techniques we've been learning might actually work! After putting off going to the doctor for a few days, I finally decided it wasn't worth it to keep toughing things out, so I went in and got an X-ray of my left wrist. I really lucked out. Turns out it's not broken, but I do have "severe soft tissue damage" - as in, after a week, the internal swelling is still so bad, it's evident on the X-ray. So, that explained a few things for me. The strange part is that there has been no visible swelling, no bruising, just pain and crunchiness. But it should heal in 3-4 weeks, and in the meantime, I've got a hot new accessory - yep, nothing says "trendsetter" like a wrist brace.

Friday, the last weekend of the State Fair, we finally went. It was okay. We got there too late at night, I think. We walked around a bit, and watched the light show, which was really disappointing. They were really pumping the light show "sensory extravaganza" this year, a "multi-media spectacular" or something like that... When people go to a light show, they want to see fireworks. It's simple, really. Lots of explosions + music = cool. The State Fair's "extravaganza" did in fact have some fireworks, and even some (admittedly cool) flame-fountain thingies. But the bulk of the program was like watching TV. They had a large screen thing up, and they projected various videos onto it. There was at least one kinda trippy video, a very psychedelic, smoke-out-in-the-theater kind of affair, followed by an overly sentimental montage of Texas stuff set to loud country music. In between these things, they'd kind of intersperse a few fireworks and gouts from the flame fountains, but in a lame, "we're-too-cheap-to-do-too-many-pyrotechnics" kind of way. Then, and this is where we left, they showed another video, of cartoon chickens riding a train. Accompanied by a SONG about chickens ridin'/drivin' said train. It reminded me overwhelmingly of the "Hamster Dance" song, which is never a good thing. Even worse, by comparison, the hamster song is cuter, catchier, and makes more sense.

My friend Christi braved the "chicken fried bacon", and I had a pina colada that was disturbingly like Capri Sun for adults. Also, it was way too sweet. We had a decent time, and it's always good to hang out with friends, but honestly, I'd have rather spent the $40 (yeah, we got out cheap!) at the Saucer or something. And despite sticking to tried and true Fair "safe food" - nachos, a funnel cake, and my pre-packaged alcohol-in-a-bag, I got SOOOO SICK later that night. I woke up at 3AM and it was an emergency. After a very intense half an hour of everyone's favorite combo of vomiting + diarrhea (always a party!), I must have gotten the offending item (and everything else I'd eaten in the past week) out of my system. It was pretty rough, though.

Finally! Today I have a job interview at 1.30. Back when we went to the symphony, Lauren, who is the director of HR for the city of Frisco, mentioned she has a contract position open for an HR specialist. It's part-time, but it pays really decently and it'd be great experience for me. They're having a hard time filling it, apparently, because most people who are qualified for it aren't interested in contract work - they want a regular full-time job with benefits. Heck, so do I, but it seems I need more job experience before I'm qualified for full-time work, despite my extensive education. *shrug* Anyway, I passed my resume on to Lauren and she put the nod in for me on this interview, so I really hope I do well.

That's it for now, hopefully the next update won't be another 3 months out!

Sprouts

2008-07-25T12:27:00.000-07:00

So, here they are, our little jungle in the window. Or, technically, I guess it's a little farm, since everything is edible and there aren't any large, dangerous snakes or anything. And a distinct lack of monkeys.

We actually started getting some sprouts (from the lettuce) a mere 3 days after planting! These guys have all been out and growing for a while now, I just hadn't gotten around to taking a picture and blogging about it until this morning.

We also have a window box with lettuce in it in the study, and I think Max planted some other seeds we ordered yesterday. I've been keeping meticulous notes as promised, I just haven't had a chance to figure out exactly what Max did yesterday. We're a little concerned that the plants aren't getting enough sun, even in the windows. Our apartment is pretty strange in that it's completely on the oblique - I think it technically faces north-east. As a result, sun never shines directly into the windows, which is great for energy savings, but not so great for plants. So we take the seedlings outside for "walkies" every couple of days, for a few hours, just to make sure they're getting enough. Soon we'll move them all outside, and we won't have to worry about it as much.

A note if you ever try to do this yourself - two, or possibly three seeds at most per cup will be fine. Even if said seeds are extremely tiny and you are extremely skeptical. I have a veritable FOREST of lettuce and carrots that I have to keep pinching off because I thought, "Meh, they're so small! I'm not counting out 2 or 3 seeds at a time - I'll just plant a pinch of 'em in there..."

On the plus side, the lettuce sprouts I pinch off actually smell and taste like lettuce! That probably shouldn't be surprising, but I'm still grappling with my amazement that this experiment is actually working. Seeds make plants! Who knew?!?

Growth

2008-07-14T09:57:00.000-07:00

We're currently caught up in a project that involves trying to grow our own food in our apartment. Lots of factors played into this, most notably curiosity and the rising cost of produce. While at first blush it might seem that in no way can a person grow enough produce to save actual money on groceries, upon closer examination, it's really quite possible. For example, if a little bag of cherry tomatoes (which we buy almost every week) costs $4 or $5, and a bag of potting soil and seeds cost $7, then if I get 2 little bags worth of cherry tomatoes out of the plants I grow from seed, those plants have paid for themselves AND saved me money.

Yes, the plants require some care, and they don't spit out tomatoes immediately. But the potential for payoff is there. Also, homegrown tomatoes are almost always better than store-bought ones, and they have the distinct advantage of being virtually guaranteed not to give me salmonella, e coli, hepatitis, or some kind of toxic pesticide poisoning.

As you can see from our ghetto setup, we're doing this on the cheap. No Martha Stewart Living gold-leaf planters, here. I can invest in making this hobby pretty after I figure out how to make it work.

So, up there in the picture, we have 2 containers of tomato seeds (Supersweet 100 VF Hybrid, for those playing along at home), 1 container of spinach seeds (Teton Hybrid), 1 container of lettuce seeds (Grand Rapids), and 3 containers of carrots (Red-Cored Chantenay 7317B). They're all in Miracle Gro Cactus Palm & Citrus soil, because that's what I had. Incidentally, I think the carrots might do well in that soil, but it's anyone's guess, really. I'm taking very detailed notes of everything we do, so that we can approach this scientifically and try to get consistent results. Also, we plan to do more than one planting, so we can vary our methods and make comparisons, so that should be exciting.

One of the reasons we're doing this is: Have you ever noticed that pretty much ALL gardening books and advice is written by gardeners? This seems to make sense, but let me tell you why it doesn't, really.

Gardeners use their own lingo. They're so used to it, they don't even realize that other people don't know what they're talking about. What is the exact method for "cultivating"? As far as I can tell, it's stirring up dirt, but how much stirring? Also, did you know that plants can "bolt"? To non-gardeners, that sounds like your lettuce is suddenly running off at a high rate of speed, e.g. "They heard the sirens and bolted!".

Gardeners already know how to grow things. Frequently, the advice boils down to "Just put it in the soil!" "Water it when it needs watering!" and "Make sure it's getting the right amount of sun!". Obviously, these things are all important. But, people who can grow things seem to have a built-in knowledge of the particulars: What kind of soil? How deep? How much water/sun is enough? How much is too much? When pressed, these people can't tell you the precise answers to these questions. They say "Most plants will tell you when they need more (or less) water (or sun)." and "I just water it when I think about it until I think I've watered it enough." Gee, thanks. That's very informative.

I cannot tell you how many plants I have killed by over- or under-watering. Or giving them too much sun. Or not enough. Obviously, it's easy to tell when a plant is unhappy. But for non-gardeners, that's all you know, that you're doing SOMETHING wrong. Apparently plant people "just know" how to fix these things, and can't really put their knowledge in concrete terms that the rest of us can understand.

It's like, if I made this really great cake and you asked me for the recipe, and I said, "Put the ingredients in the bowl. Oh, what ingredients? You know, flour and sugar and eggs and stuff. Then mix it all together and bake it until it's done! Yummy!" Could you recreate my cake? I'm guessing no. That's why I'm taking all the notes. I may not have been born with a sense of how to grow things, but maybe I can develop it if I record my exact methods, the conditions, and the results. A pattern will emerge eventually, and I will recognize it and learn from it. And later, when you ask me how I grew such delicious tomatoes, I can whip out all of my exhaustive research and SHOW you!

The Last Post

2008-07-11T09:20:00.000-07:00

Okay, my last post has some technical issues. The giant "FORBIDDEN" map, for one. I can't figure out how to fix it, but I assure you the map illustrates that my car was parked (for over a year) pretty much right around the corner from the place where it was stolen. Great work, Ft. Worth PD. Also, you may notice that there's some text at the bottom of the blog which imply the presence of pictures. For some reason, I couldn't get those to work, either. So, here they are, jammed up on the top of this blog, for posterity. The picture on the left was taken the day my car was stolen, and the one on the right is the day I got it back. I'm wearing the same shirt, and I thought that was really weird.

I don't know why I'm having so much trouble with the pictures, though, so maybe one of my helpful readers can throw me a bone, here. Usually, when I want to post a picture in the body of my text, as opposed to jammed up at the top like Blogger does it, I type in the HTML for it, you know, all that "" stuff that you can put HSPACE and ALIGN values into. Usually the quotes aren't there on the outside of the <>, but I think if I don't put them in for the purposes of illustration, it'll make the computer angry. Well, I did all that for the last entry, but for some reason my pictures still wouldn't post. It's funny, because I manage my pictures with Picasa, which is owned by Google, just like Blogger. So you would think it'd be pretty easy to get pictures from my Picasa web albums into my Blogger, but you'd be wrong.

Also, I couldn't fix the technical problems in my last post because when I went back to edit it, the text suddenly became invisible! I poked around on the help forums without much success before deciding to just hit the "Publish Post" button anyway and make amends later.

Anyway, sorry for the boring technical mumbo-jumbo, but if you happen to have solutions to one or more of these problems, please, PLEASE feel free to clue me in.

Carma

2008-06-25T08:12:00.000-07:00

As you may recall, my Honda Civic was stolen last May at the Fort Worth Bridal Expo. Yesterday, I got it back.

Yes, really.

The Fort Worth police department called me to tell me that my car was towed to an impound lot in Arlington yesterday morning. We had to get a new key made for it (I finally threw away my original key about a month and a half ago - figures.) We just went with the VIN down to the local Honda dealership and they cut us a key for about $20. Then we drove out to Arlington (aka "Car Hell") to see the car. We had no idea if it would even start. We didn't even know if we'd need the key at all - maybe somebody busted out the ignition lock and had been starting it with a screwdriver. Maybe it'd been wrecked, or rattle-canned blue with a shopping cart handle "spoiler" bolted to the top of the trunk. Maybe someone had been letting their Doberman live in it for a year. I was nervous.

We decided that if my Honda wasn't in reasonable condition, we'd just leave it there. No sense in claiming a car we no longer need that would just become a headache. After a long wait in a tiny, un-air conditioned lobby, the impounders let us go onto the lot to look at the car. I recognized it immediately and went right over to it. Amazingly, it looked almost exactly the same as I'd left it! Someone had stolen the CD player and my CDs. Also, my flying frog and my bobble-head alligator were gone. But aside from that, the car was exactly the same! There was even a sewing pattern for a blanket/backpack that I'd made for Ellie still in the back seat! I was dumbfounded. It's like it had just been sitting (in the sun, by the looks of it) for a year.

Initially, we were told we couldn't try to start it. Obviously, the impound lot doesn't make a policy of letting people look at a car, start it up, and then make a break for it without paying. Also, if you parked your car illegally and it got towed, chances are good you know whether or not it will start. However, mine were special circumstances, and I eventually convinced the completely unflappable lady to make an exception and let us try to get the engine to turn over. Of course, the battery was flat after all that time of not being driven, but at least we knew the key still worked!

The fee to get the car out of impound was $244.10, cash only, exact change. Yes, even though the car was STOLEN, and they KNEW it was stolen, I, the rightful owner, had to shell out $245 to get it back, no exceptions. We took a gamble based on the condition of the car and paid up.

Unfortunately, the impound lot ALSO has a policy of not letting people jump cars on their property - my Honda would have to be towed out into the customer parking lot before we could try to get it up and running. Naturally, there weren't any tow-truck drivers on the lot at the time, and she promised to try to get one out to us as soon as possible. She suggested we go get a drink or something and come back in about an hour. We drove around Arlington and finally navigated our way out of the ghetto and around to the restaurants and stuff near Six Flags and the ballpark. We loitered nervously in Half-Price Books, and then went and ate dinner at Bennigan's.

About 2 hours after we'd left the impound lot, I called back to see if she'd found a driver to tow the car the 50 feet to the parking lot. She hadn't. She told us we could come back and jump the car ourselves. Of course, we were still grappling with the possibility that it might not start despite our efforts, and we'd have to have it towed home anyway. Who knows what had happened to it?

We went back to the impound lot and jumped it. It turned over but wouldn't start. After some prodding, Max deduced that there was air in the fuel line, so we had to bleed that out a bit. Finally, it started! It was running really rough on the dregs of year-old gasoline that hadn't been siphoned off by anonymous miscreants, but it saved us having to purge the tank ourselves. We limped it over to a gas station and filled it up with a tank of fresh gas. We also put air in the tires (they were all REALLY low, like 10psi), and had to put about 2 quarts of oil in it, too. Then, I just drove it home! It smoothed out a bit after it had been running for a while. It sounds like I've got a loose belt in there, it idles high, and the alignment is WAY off - whoever stole it must have jumped a curb coming out of the parking lot or something. But, after sitting abandoned for over a year in questionable conditions with absolutely no maintenance, my 1989 Honda Civic started up and drove 40 miles home without incident or complaint. The a/c still works so well I actually had to turn it off on the drive home - it was freezing me out! With a little TLC, this car will be just as good as the day I lost it. Better, maybe.

I slept fitfully last night and had lots of bad dreams. I guess I hadn't realized how traumatic getting my car stolen had really been for me, since it had happened in the midst of about 4 other Really Important Things. Getting it back, while certainly a positive thing, seems to have brought to the surface all my feelings of loss and helplessness, just like when it was stolen. I guess it's just reminding me of how I felt then, and bringing back that sense of vulnerability. It's so strange. Right after I lost my car, I would sometimes forget that it was gone, and think to myself, "I'll just
run down to the store...". Then I'd go outside and of course my car wouldn't be there, and it felt very strange and empty and disappointing. Now, I walk outside and see the Honda, and it seems so incongruous. It's conspicuous. It sticks in my brain. Where before, the image of an empty parking spot was burned in my memory, now it's that Honda, parked there nice-as-you-please next to the Jeep, like nothing happened at all. It's all very strange.

Perhaps because it's so strange, I couldn't leave well enough alone. I wanted to know what's been happening to my car all this time. On the receipt from the impound lot, it has the address and phone number of the apartment complex my car was towed from. I called. When I started asking questions about that car, the lady was initially suspicious. After I explained who I was and what had happened, she told me her side of the story. As it turns out, my Honda has been parked at the Harris Gardens apartment complex AT LEAST since last June! That car had been a thorn in her side, with her residents constantly complaining about it taking up a parking space. No one has ever moved it, as far as she knew. She'd put notices on it several times, hoping the owner (whom she assumed lived in the complex) would either move it or get a parking sticker for it. Curiously, she was told the car had been there for MONTHS when she initially stuck a notice on it back in June of 2007. Of course, that's impossible, since it was my car and I was definitely driving it (and not in Fort Worth) until late May 2007. Even more curiously, she told me that someone kept coming by and removing the notice-stickers. That's why it took her so long to have it towed, even though it was never moved, SOMEONE was taking those stickers off, usually within a day of them being placed on the car. She didn't want to tow a resident's car, so she just kept stickering it until yesterday when she finally broke down and called the tow service.

You know where the Harris Gardens apartment complex is? About 3.2 miles from Bass Performance Hall, where my car was stolen.

View Larger Map

Even stranger, according to the leasing agent I spoke to, several Fort Worth police officers live in the Harris Gardens apartment complex, including a sheriff for the Ft. Worth PD, who complained about the car's presence regularly. If any of those officers had bothered to run the plates, they would have immediately known the car was stolen.

And for my final crazy twist on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, here is a picture of me the day my car was stolen, taken mere minutes before the excrement hit the oscillator:

And here is a picture taken yesterday evening after I got it back.

Yes, I was wearing that shirt all day.

No, I didn't plan it.

Yes, perhaps this is a sign that I need some new clothes.

Non-Carbonated

2008-05-27T09:46:00.000-07:00

So, by now, you've probably heard that Colbie Caillat song, "Bubbly". About 6 million times. I can't stand that song. Sure, it was cute the first 5 times I heard it. But now, every time it comes on the radio, I want to throw up. I hear those opening chords and I see red! So, I wrote my own song as a counter-point.

To the tune of "Bubbly", feel free to enjoy my impending hit, "Non-Carbonated":

I’ve only been awake a while now, but
I’ve already heard this song 10 times by now
‘Cause every station’s got it in your face
It’s everywhere, it’s all over the place

When I walk in the door
They’re playing it in the store
Wherever I go, I always know
No place is safe
It’s being way over-played
There is no escape
Wherever you go

It’s omnipresent, oh it’s such a pain
No sanctuary for my aural space
Over and over yeah, it’s such a bore
It’s all this repetition I abhor

The radio in my car
And then again at the bar
Wherever I go, I always know
That no place is safe
It’s being way over-played
There is no escape
Wherever you go

Wherever, wherever
Wherever you go
Wherever, wherever
Wherever you go

More Geekiness

2008-05-02T17:27:00.001-07:00

For anyone who may be interested, The Geek Preserve has been updated.

This has been a public service announcement. We will now return to your regularly scheduled programming.

Go with granite.

2008-04-23T08:15:00.000-07:00

There is a road by my house called Cemetery Hill. Today on my walk, spurred by curiosity, I followed it up the hill for a mile or so and found an honest-to-goodness 130-year old cemetery, like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.

According to the Texas Historical Commission plaque, Furneaux Cemetery was created when Mr. Furneaux (an English immigrant) died and willed part of his extensive farmland set aside for a public cemetery. He was the first ... resident? Interree? Occupant? Whatever you call it, I'm sure you get my meaning.

I love old cemeteries and always have. You can walk through them and see whole dynasties, and put together some pretty compelling stories. This couple lost a child at a young age, that woman survived her husband by 40 years, and on and on, just by paying attention to the information on the stones. I often like to speculate on what those people were like, and what they'd think if they could pop their heads up and take a quick look around at the way their community has changed since they left it.

As I walked back home, past rows upon rows of dingy, cheap tract housing, I had the familiar sensation of grasping for history. That cemetery is probably the oldest thing within 30 miles. As Americans, we've been dazzled by everything that is newer, bigger, better! In our pursuit of those things, we bulldoze our past and build over the lot. Maybe it's vestiges of a frontier mentality; maybe those old buildings, which surely must've been there 130+ years ago, were never really meant to last, anyway. And it's not the buildings themselves that are important, though they might be interesting to look at, were they still around. It's the sense of history; the physical reminders that lead to the constant, conscious knowledge that others were here before. Just think - on that exact spot where you're sitting, generations of other people have lived and died. I think we overlook that all too often. Of course, it's important to look to the future and live in the present, but without knowledge of the past, the present can feel empty or confusing. History doesn't always repeat itself, but the past puts the present into context.

Adventures in Domesticity

2008-04-21T12:05:00.000-07:00

Not much has been going on recently, so I haven't had much to blog about. The only adventures I've been having lately are of the domestic variety - today, I've been engaged in the exciting and glamorous activity of scaling Mount Laundry, with the help of my trusty sherpa, Arm & Hammer. I'll spare you the details of our brave exploits, but let me assure you, they were indeed harrowing.

On Saturday night, we got a wild hair and made potstickers. They were amazing! If you've never bought wonton wrappers before, you are missing out on a fantastic opportunity for a) a really fun and delicious meal, and b) a convenient and creative way to get rid of leftovers. Got two carrots left in the bag that nobody's going to eat? A bit of leftover taco meat, waiting to be forgotten in the back of the fridge? Put them in wonton wrappers and you have an instant party!

In my wontons, I used:
2 sticks of frozen imitation crab meat (leftover from a Japanese meal I made a few weeks ago)
1 carrot (the last one in the bag)
1 stalk of rather questionable and sorry-looking celery
5 bulk mushrooms (leftover ingredients from another meal)
2 green onions (that were on their way out, anyway)

I boiled the crab sticks for 5 mins (according to the directions on the package), then roughly chopped everything else and threw it in the food processor. To the bowl of minced stuff, I added some soy sauce and my new favorite condiment, Lee Kum Kee's Chili Garlic Sauce. That stuff is amazing! It's a little spicy (but I wouldn't call it hot by any stretch), quite garlicky, and completely delicious. I keep looking for new things to try it on, just as an excuse to eat more of it. I think in our household, it may have just replaced ketchup entirely.

Max made the wontons while I manned the stove, and we (mostly) followed Alton Brown's procedure for making potstickers. It was definitely Good Eats.

They took a little time to make, but on that particular evening, time was something we had plenty of. And anyway, we had a lot of fun just cooking together (I guess I'm a REALLY cheap date!). However, one of the great things about wontons is: you can make them in advance and freeze them - they'll stay good for over 6 months!! And when you're ready to cook them, they don't even need to thaw - just grab 'em and go. Since our package of wonton wrappers has something like 70 sheets in it, I'll be trying this trick out very soon.

The Pledge

2008-04-03T11:08:00.000-07:00

So, I got another subbing job (for tomorrow) and I was wondering whether I might have to say The Pledge again. When I was observing elementary school, my hours were at the beginning of the day. The intercom announced that it was "time for the Pledge of Allegiance" - and, embarrassingly, the teacher had to prompt me to stand... It just didn't occur to me to. You see, I never, ever say The Pledge.

I can't really remember when I stopped saying it, but I think it was near the end of elementary school. Of course, I still know it. I just stopped saying it, because for some reason it always felt very strange to me.

As an adult, I explain (or rationalize, depending on your view) my aversion to the pledge as an example of absolute dogma. For some people, it is a pledge in word but not in deed. Worse, many people don't even think about it at all - not that there's a whole lot to think about. What exactly does pledging one's allegiance entail? What actions can you take to show your loyalty or patriotism? The Pledge doesn't go into that. It's just a pronouncement. We teach it to our children without explanation, and it is memorized without understanding or conviction. It's rote. If you don't agree, go watch The Pledge being recited at any local school in the beginning of the day.

Our country was founded by thinkers seeking change. When their contemporaries intoned, "God Save the King!", our forefathers asked, "Why?". Against this historical backdrop, the obligatory, unquestioning daily recital of The Pledge seems forced, insincere, and incongruous.

As for myself, I wouldn't say I'm exactly bursting with national pride, but I'm a content citizen. I vote, I pay my taxes, I don't write angry political commentary... I'm just a happy little cog who wants to be left alone and not forced to make empty political incantations to demonstrate my "American-ness".

You know why I think we say The Pledge? To homogenize. Or, at least, to give the appearance of homogenization. The Pledge is short and simple to learn, and reciting it is pretty much a stamp of Americanism. It is a quick and easy (although perhaps not terribly effective) way of imparting a basic sense of national identity on a very large and diverse group of people. Whether this is a good or bad idea is a matter of debate, but for me, it falls into the category of "A nice thought, but a little too much like brainwashing".

I'm in the mood to blog

2008-04-01T09:47:00.001-07:00

I really should be running errands right now, but I'm going to sit down and blog for a minute because goddammit, I want to!

We have moved. I think I really like our new place, but OMG do I hate moving! There is just so much stuff! Really, I'm not sure how much we threw away/donated, but I know it was A LOT of stuff. Bags and bags of stuff. And yet we still have MORE stuff! It's a little confusing. One would think the physical space limitations of our other place would've been reached long before we could accumulate such a massive pile of things. I'm beginning to wonder if Max's closet was not in fact a Closet of Holding +1; its inside certainly seems larger than its outside dimensions!

The only room left to do is the study, (or, as Sarah and Phil call it in their house, "the nerdery") but it's a doozy. When we're finally finished and settled in, I'd like to have a little shidoo (shindig + to-do) to celebrate. Of course, my introverted and socially nonplussed husband has reservations about the idea, but I think I really need to throw a little housewarming party for closure. It'll finally put a stamp on the move and let me feel like "Okay, we live here now."

In other news, have you ever seen the movie "Backdraft"? I'd somehow missed it until this weekend, when we ordered from our new favorite pizza place (Joe's) and rented it. It was actually a pretty good movie, despite the leading men being Kurt Russell and a Baldwin (William). Robert DeNiro and Donald Sutherland were really good in it, I thought.

However, two things:
1. Jennifer Jason Leigh looks like a frumpy hooker in that movie, and whoever did her hair, makeup and wardrobe needs to be dragged out and shot. I don't care that it was 1991. Those ensembles were never okay.

2. The theme at the end of the movie is the music from Iron Chef!!! +10,000 points of awesome.

As an aside, if you can, never eat chain pizza. There are local pizza joints NEAR YOU (yes, you!) that are soooo much better, and often cheaper. Take a chance, Google "pizza" and your zip code, and order from a place that is not Papa John's, Domino's, Pizza Hut, or Little Caesars. You'll probably be supporting a local, family run business (or possibly the mafia, as we suspected with our favorite pizza joint in Denton), the ingredients will probably be fresher, the whole thing will probably taste better, and it's very likely to be cheaper, since you're not also paying for a national advertising campaign.

Okay, Max is coming home for lunch (I love that he can do that now!), so I've gotta stop blogging and look busy! (Whatever, I've been busy!)

Moving on up

2008-03-05T10:14:00.000-08:00

Well, it's official, I'm a substitute teacher now, and I even have a badge to prove it! They'll run my background check and I can start working Monday. While I'm not exactly thrilled about giving up my cushy unemployed status, it'll be good for me to get out and work a little, and a bit of extra money is always nice. Plus, I still have complete flexibility with my schedule, so if I don't want to work, I just won't. I really put off getting a job because I didn't want to get tied to a schedule, and I also didn't want to have to work when Max was home. I like being all home-y and spending the afternoons and evenings together. Also, I didn't want to get stuck doing retail or data entry or some menial job I could've gotten out of high school. Granted, being a substitute teacher isn't exactly important or prestigious, but I think it'll be fun, and anyway, it's hard to argue with the hours.

In other news, we found our next apartment. Actually it's a townhouse. Our lease is up at the end of this month, and we really, REALLY have to move this time. We hemmed and hawed and put it off, but in actual fact the search was more or less painless and we knocked it out in a weekend. It's all over but the actual moving now, we've put down the deposits and signed the lease - we're moving to Carrollton in about 3 weeks. We leased at a complex that has properties in the Austin area (eight of them, actually), so when Max finds a new job, we can transfer to another property within the management company without breaking our lease, which is actually really convenient. Not that I even want to THINK about moving to Austin right now, because I'm currently stressing about packing up the apartment we've lived in for like, the past SIX YEARS!

But, we've formulated an outline of a 2-3 year plan. Amazingly, it was Max who brought it up. I guess he was really stressing about not having signed a new lease; having to move out at the end of March with no place to move to was not comfortable for him. Of course, I was the opposite - I knew we'd get the lease thing taken care of eventually, so I wasn't really worried about it. Once we signed on the dotted line, he was relieved, and I started in on an alarmingly steep downward spiral... For him, the moving thing has now been taken care of and is a done deal - for me, the nightmare of packing and moving and arranging and organizing and cleaning has just started... and it has a deadline. But anyway, right after we signed the new lease, we went to a great Cajun restaurant near our new place. He was in high spirits; I was staring bleakly into my Pepsi wishing it was vodka.

He said something along the lines of, "You know, what we really need is a house. I think, in a few months, I'll probably get a job in Austin. We can transfer there, and I think we should start looking for houses right away. That way, we'll have plenty of time to look around and make a really good decision. So, in about a year, I guess we'll probably be buying a house! Then we can get that puppy you've been wanting! And maybe we could get some actual furniture and finally get rid of that nasty couch we both hate. And once we have the house and job and stuff squared away, it'll be much easier to think about having kids. It'll probably take us two or three years to get all that taken care of and get settled, but I think it's a pretty good plan..."

Okay. These are pretty much the EXACT words I've been wanting this man to say for, I dunno, about FIVE YEARS, but at the time, I felt like I was staring into the abyss. Puppy? House? Furniture? Who are you and what did you do with my commitment-phobic husband?!? (Not that I really mind, but you know, out of curiosity...) Also, he's thinking "Puppies! House! Kids! Furniture!" and I'm thinking "How the hell am I going to get that piano down a flight of stairs?! There are things in cabinets in my kitchen that I don't even know about. How am I going to pack everything we own into boxes we don't have, move it 30 miles, and unpack it all? More importantly, how am I going to do that by the end of this month?!?"

But instead of saying all that, I had the good sense to just smile and say it was all a really great idea (because it is).

facebook on college

2008-02-28T08:04:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I've been neglecting my blog, but that doesn't mean I haven't been writing! If you haven't already noticed, I've updated the Geek Preserve, and there's another installment already on the way, so look out for that, too.
I've been having a facebook conversation with one of my friends from the dark ages (high school!) that haven't seen or spoken to in literally 10 years. He started working right out of high school, and has been in business for himself for several years, but he's ready for a change now and was asking me about college. It was such a great question that I thought I'd share an excerpt his prompt and my response here:

He says: Tell me about your college experience! With either of the paths ahead of me I'm thinking I could easily move into a position where full-time school would be a viable option. What did you study and what did you gain?

I say: Oh, college. I highly recommend it, although I'm sure your experience will be different than mine. I studied pretty much everything they'd teach me, and I gained...everything. Going to college has impacted my life in such a profound way that it's not even measurable anymore. But most of the things I learned in college, or at least the most important things, had nothing to do with academics. I was living on my own for the first time. I learned responsibility, freedom, leadership, character. I learned who I was, and who I wanted to be, and how I thought I could accomplish that. It was freeing for me to be able to objectively examine my life and my goals, and even my personality, away from parents, family and long-term friends. I had the freedom to become myself, without being constrained by other people's long-standing perceptions of me. And I grew a lot, but I wouldn't say I went to college and did a personality 180. But, let's just say my home environment was always very difficult, and getting out of that was the best thing that could've ever happened to me. ALso in college, I learned that it's not really so much about WHAT you know, it's about THINKING. That's kind of a hidden message, though, because when you're in school, it seems very much that the emphasis in on learning material, and in a way, it is. But what they're really trying to teach you is to think for yourself, and also how to find information and assimilate it into your world, instead of just grafting it whole-cloth into your intellectual reality. Think critically, or, as one of my good friends (who is also a prof, although I never took his class) says, just "Feel free to think". And he doesn't mean the flowery, butterflies-and-roses feel THE FREEDOM to think, he means ENGAGE. YOUR. BRAIN. (IDIOT). Lots of people miss that, but it's one of the most important lessons of college. It seems really simple, but it's startling how many people go through life not thinking.

More and more, I think college is becoming an extension of HS, everybody goes to college, not just the cream of the crop. And having a BS or BA (as you mentioned) is really valuable. It's said that of 2 people, with the same abilities and experience, doing the same job, the one without the college degree will cap-out their earning potential A MINIMUM of $50K before the equally-skilled guy with a piece of paper from a university. Is that fair? No. But it's kind of a pay-to-play system we've got going on. So, my point of that last little caveat is that anybody can mindlessly sit through college, earn a degree, and be off. But it's important to cut through the crap and sift for the REAL lessons that are there, like buried treasure for people who take the time to look for them. Also, having a degree is not a ticket to a financial success, or even a job. I thought that was how it worked until I got my BA and realized that the little piece of paper means NOTHING without experience to back it up.

A Post!

2008-02-20T10:49:00.000-08:00

It's been a while, and a lot has happened, but unfortunately, I haven't felt I could post about it. To tie up some other loose ends:

My car is still great, but I still don't have pictures because I am lazy.
We finally got an Xbox 360 from the repair center that seems to work.
My skin is much happier now and I'm addicted to Clinique products.

I'm in the process of jumping through hoops to substitute teach for my school district. It's surprisingly easy except for one minor detail: observation hours. I have to have 6 hours of classroom observation before I can sub. I can choose where I do those hours, so I wanted to do 2 hours at each level so I can have some idea of how things go if I end up subbing for 2nd grade one day and high school the next. Observing at the high school was a piece of cake, and even at the middle school it wasn't difficult after I got serious with the secretaries and stopped letting them send me back to a random answering machine. Getting into an elementary school has been a nightmare, though! I called no less than seven schools before I spoke to a human who could help me. Anyway, to make a long story short, I'm finally getting those last two observation hours out of the way tomorrow, and I'm pretty sure that means I can start working soon, which is great.

Hmmm. There's more I want to say here, but I'm not sure how to say it, so I guess I'll let it go. If I can tease things out a little more, I might post again later. Or not! You'll just have to wait and see! ;)

Miscellany

2008-01-24T11:28:00.001-08:00

As some of you may already know, I got a new car (finally!). It's a beautiful '99 BMW 328i. It's a silver (technically, "titanium") 4- door sedan with a black leather interior. This car is like brand new. It only had 64,000 miles on it when we bought it, which, for a car that's almost 10 years old is absolutely amazing. It runs like a dream and we love it. I'll post pictures as soon as I take some (it's been so cold out lately, I haven't been motivated to spend a lot of time outside, you know?).

Yesterday, I was feeling very clever for noticing that there was a sale at Old Navy. The clothes there don't really fit me well, but I can usually get away with buying t-shirts and that sort of thing there. Anyway, I got a henley and a long-sleeved, scoop neck tee for $15! While I was in the fitting room, trying things on and feeling proud of myself, I noticed (under their very harsh fitting room lighting) that my face was all red and patchy and blotchy and gross! My skin's been going a little crazy lately, I guess because it's been so dry, but I wasn't expecting anything like that! As we were leaving the store, I told Max I wanted to go to Clinique in the mall. He gave me the "Do we have to?" look, and I was like, "Have you seen my skin recently?!?" To which he replied, "Yeeeaaah....I just didn't want to say anything..."

Okay. I understand that he was trying to be nice and not hurt my feelings or something. But when your wife looks like she has a horrible skin-eating rash all over her face, you do not let her go out in public, and without makeup, no less! You bundle her off to the nearest skin care counter and you get her some help. Especially since I have a tendency to downplay stuff like that. Well, actually, I completely overreact to the slightest little skin problem (because I'm not used to having any), and I KNOW I overreact, so I consciously downplay it and tell myself whatever the problem is, it's really subtle and I'm the only one who notices, and I shouldn't let myself blow things out of proportion, etc... Yes, it's messed up. So am I. Get over it.

Anyway, off we went, and now I have an actual skin care routine that I'm actually trying to follow. I know most girls started in with that when they were like, 13, but I've been lucky enough to have great skin my whole life, and now that I'm having to actually do stuff with it, it's kinda freaking me out.

Wow, that was some full-disclosure there, but it's what's been going on. In other news, I finished blogging the first session of our new campaign -you can find the link to The Geek Preserve in the sidebar.

Geek Preserve Update

2008-01-16T08:37:00.001-08:00

Some of you may have noticed that my Geek Preserve blog hasn't seen a lot of action in, oh, say about 3 years. That has recently changed. We've started a new campaign and this time, I'm blogging it from the beginning. So, if you're a big nerd, check out my game blog weekly for riveting updates! (Psst - the link's in the sidebar under "The Geek Preserve").

A 360 Nightmare

2008-01-14T12:05:00.000-08:00

Okay, so you may remember that our Xbox 360 is broken; it failed near the end of November. Here's an update on that, may it serve as a warning to you all.

The original Xbox 360 functioned flawlessly for about a year before it was stricken with the Red Ring of Death. It was still under warranty, so we called Microsoft and began the "repair" process - and I use that "repair" term loosely. Microsoft shipped us a box with everything we needed to send our console off the the repair center in McAllen, TX - packing foam, a prepaid shipping label, a box of the appropriate size, detailed instructions, even a cut-to-length piece of packing tape. We packaged the console according to instructions and sent it off. We received our replacement console in just over a week. In all, the process was painless, prompt, and pleasant (under the circumstances), and we were satisfied customers.

Then, about 3 or 4 days after receiving the refurbished console, we started experiencing disk read errors. Upon further inspection, we noticed that the new console was actually scratching our game disk, which was probably what was causing the errors. Now a little frustrated, we called Microsoft again. After trying to explain the problem to several different foreign customer service people without much success, I was finally transferred to a manager who had better command of the English language and was able to help me. We were instructed to send this console (Console #2, for those of you playing along at home) back to the service center, along with our original power supply. A few phone calls and some finnangling later, and I managed to get them to throw in a free game, too. It should be noted, however, that the free games Microsoft is willing to give you are mostly games you don't want. I had to choose between Project Gotham Racing 3, Kameo, Viva Pinata (which is awesome, but we already own it, also, it's geared towards children), and a collection of Xbox Live Arcade games (which are free to play on Xbox Live... so what's the point of the game disk?) We picked PGR3. This time, the return process was very similar except they sent a slightly larger box (to accommodate the brick-like power supply). We packed it up, sent it off, and waited.

About a week or so later, we received yet another refurbished console from the repair center. This one also came with a power supply, since we'd sent our perfectly fine, working power supply in with the last console. However, the new "refurbished" power supply we received with Console #3 doesn't work. Without a working power supply, we don't have a working refurbished Xbox, we have a big white paper weight. Again, calls were put in to the Microsoft Service Center. At first, they insisted that we PAY to ship the power supply back to their service center. Then, after they have received it, they will send us another power supply. The process should take about 3 weeks, we're told.

Okay, no. We sent them our original working power supply AT THEIR REQUEST. They, in turn, have sent us YET ANOTHER "refurbished" product that doesn't work properly. There is no reason for us to take any liability for this. True, it'll probably cost us less than $10 to ship the power supply to them, but why should we have to pay for it? Also, why do we have to wait 3 weeks for them to ship us a working power supply, so that we can potentially find out that Console #3 is ALSO faulty? I wasn't going for it.

After several more very long phone calls, I was finally able to talk to someone who spoke enough English to deviate from the prompt a little bit. He explained that since Console #3 wasn't broken, we couldn't return it, and since we're not returning the whole console, they can't send us a box just for the power supply. In this situation, the power supply counts as an "accessory", and the policy is that they don't pay return shipping on accessories. I patiently explained to him that without the power supply, my Xbox IS broken. I have no reason to believe it works! The last one they sent me didn't work, and this one won't even turn on! Finally, he agrees to process a repair order for ALL of Console #3, including the power supply. Now, I'm waiting for the box to return it in.

During this fiasco, I have spent almost 10 hours of my life on the phone with the Customer Service Center, and most of that time has been spent on hold. I have been accused of breaking Console #2 (in under 4 days!). I have been repeatedly denied the opportunity to speak with a supervisor's superior. And worst of all, I've been subjected over and over again to conversations like this:

CSR [in a heavy, almost unintelligible Indian accent]: So, you're calling because your console is not working, correct?
Me: No, I'm calling because it's scratching my game disks.
CSR: [long pause] So, you're having trouble with your game disks?
Me: Yes, the console you sent me is scratching them.
CSR: I'm sorry ma'am, but we can only help with problems with your console. Please contact your local games retailer for issues regarding games.
Me: But the problem is with the console! The console is scratching my game disks! The scratches are causing disk read errors.
CSR: [long pause] So, you're calling because your console is not working, correct? Have you tried turning it off, and then turning it back on?
Me: YES! But I'm still getting disk read errors, because the console is scratching my game disk.
CSR: [long pause] So, you're having trouble with your game disks?
Me: Yes! The-
CSR: I'm sorry ma'am, but we can only help with problems with your console. Please contact your local games retailer for issues regarding games.
Me: [deep breath] ...Okay. May I please speak with a manager?
CSR: Please hold. [about 5 minutes later] I am sorry for the wait, ma'am. I can transfer you to my supervisor, but the estimated hold time for that is 45 minutes.
Me: FINE.

However, in the course of all these painful conversations, I have gleaned some useful information, which I will now share with you:
The customer service number, should you ever have to call it for yourself, is 1-800-4MY-XBOX.
All complaints must be directed to:
Microsoft Legal Department
Xbox Legal Group
1 Microsoft Way
Redmond, WA 98052

Birthday Surprise

2007-12-14T08:09:00.001-08:00

You may perhaps remember a previous post that began with a picture of birthday cake.
Some of you thought that I might have decorated that cake, but sadly, it was just a picture I grabbed off the internet. Here, in all its glory, is a picture of a birthday cake I actually made and decorated myself. The barely legible scrawl, the carefully-constructed icing border sliding down the ganache and off the side of the cake... this is why I'm not a cake decorator. Oh well, at least it was yummy.

My schemes for Max's birthday went off without a hitch. Secretly, I conspired with his brother to come up from Austin and surprise him on his big day. When Rob showed up at the door, Max was shocked! He had no idea! Also, I had covertly organized (via facebook) a small gathering of friends at the Flying Saucer, one of our favorite haunts. I gently suggested to Max that we could go there for dinner, making him think it was almost his idea! When we arrived, all our friends were waiting for us, and when Max walked in, they all yelled "Surprise!".... it was great. The "party" was really informal - just a bunch of friends getting together to drink beer and hang out. I think it was exactly what he would have wanted had he planned it himself. At any rate, a great time was had by all, Max was totally touched that everybody turned out for him like that, and I was just floored that it all worked out so well.

But alas, every stroke of clever genius in my life is balanced by a moment of abject stupidity. On Monday, I was practicing front-kicking drills in the mirror in the bathroom (like a good little martial artist). I was wearing socks, because it was COLD in the house. And every time I kicked, my base leg would move a little, inching me closer and closer to the bathroom counter... and my doom! I was concentrating on my form, so I didn't notice that I was moving forward ever so slightly... until I kicked the bathroom counter with full force and exploded my big toe. Luckily, I didn't break anything, but the very tip of my toe is badly bruised and I have a 1/2-in. long tear in my skin from where the pressure of the impact ripped through my toe. It bled a lot at first, but now it just kind of weeps occasionally. It's healing nicely now, and fortunately, there aren't a great deal of nerve endings in toes, so it doesn't hurt as much as it looks like it should.

That being said, it is SOOO inconvenient! I really took my big toe for granted before, but it's completely vital for things I do all the time, like walking or wearing shoes. Even though the tip of my toe is not a walking surface, I still can't walk on it because when I put pressure on the pad of my toe, it compresses a little and moves the skin just enough to re-open the wound. Anyway, it's really gross looking, and I haven't been able to train in almost a week, and I feel retarded.

Moral of the story? Practicing at home is good; being aware of your environment is better.

Uh-oh

2007-12-05T10:25:00.000-08:00

Yep, there it is, the Eye of Sauron. Max's Xbox 360 finally quit, as it seems they all inevitably do. So it's at a Microsoft repair center, being fixed, and we're without Assassin's Creed for at least a month.

Other things are broken, too - Max's computer (probably the power supply), my car (battery and the Ghost in the Transmission) - I guess when it rains, it pours.

And then I found out yesterday about a broken LIFE, or perhaps it qualifies at this point as a whole broken family. My cousin, Amber Martin, died Sunday night of a drug overdose. She was a year or two older than me.

I haven't seen Amber since I was about 10, but I remember her being smart, pretty, and very cool (you know, she was older!). Amber and her younger sister Andrea had a rough go of things, though. Their father was my dad's brother, my Uncle Clyde.

Clyde struggled with heroin and was in and out of prison and rehab for most of his adult life. His relationship with Amber and Andrea's mother Darlene was rocky, as far as I could tell. He contracted Hepatitis and died earlier this year.

What I don't understand is this: After years of observing first-hand the devastating effects of drug and alcohol addiction, how could she have gotten involved with all that? We can't say she didn't know better. I could see Uncle Clyde's downward spiral from half a continent away - it's not like it was subtle. Watching my dad ride that roller-coaster of having a loved one with a serious addiction problem was heart-wrenching. People say drugs are a victimless crime, but they're dead wrong. Drug abuse puts the friends and family through hell.

Knowing that - and she must have known it - how could she have ended up with a drug problem? You'd think she'd be the LAST person to mess with that kind of thing. I keep chewing it over in my head, looking for some sort of answer, but really there isn't one.

A few months back, after my uncle died, I thought about writing to Amber and Andrea. I talked myself out of it because I figured they had their own support networks of people they know. My dad is far and away the most successful of the 6 siblings, and myself and my sisters were kind of resented as the "privileged cousins". I decided that sending my thoughts and sympathy to Amber and Andrea might offend, so I just let it drop. Maybe it was the right thing to do, maybe it wasn't, but I can't let myself fall into the trap of wondering if things would've turned out differently if I'd just sent that letter. Amber's problems didn't start with her dad's death. And they haven't ended with hers.

Steve and Facebook

2007-11-14T10:40:00.000-08:00

Did you know that Steve Martin can sing AND tap-dance? Neither did I. Here he is, performing "Fit as a Fiddle" with Gregory Hines in 1981:

Also, he plays the banjo:

Who knew?

Okay, now I have to address something kind of important in a space where it won't make any difference! Yay!

If you have a Facebook, it's possible you've heard about, or maybe even joined a group called "Four guys, one destination, one mission: suicide prevention". I admit, that bit after the colon is a little confusing. I checked it out, and basically 4 guys from Baylor were eating dinner with their buddy when he confessed that he's terribly depressed and had actually attempted suicide the night before (by trying to suffocate himself in a plastic bag??? This guy really DOES suck at everything! Okay, that was cold. Sorry). The friend refused to seek professional help, and in the course of conversation, it was decided that the 4 guys would make a Facebook group, and when that group's membership reached 250K, they would bicycle to Alaska.

The group claims this is proving to the friend that he can do anything he puts his mind to, and it is giving him something to live for. While I admit I might want to watch my friends try to bicycle from Waco to Alaska in the winter, I feel it is perhaps not actually doing much to help their friend.

The thing is, clinical depression is more than just being kinda in a funk. It is a serious and potentially life-threatening disease. If your friend contracted, say, cancer, you would probably not encourage them to "walk it off" and try to distract them from their pain by funny jokes or questionable bicycle tours of America. This is because no amount of bicycling through snow will cure cancer, and in the same way, no amount of bicycling through snow will cure depression. I am constantly baffled by the number of people who don't understand this.

Part of the problem with this "distraction" plan is that depressed people tend to detach from life. They distance themselves from the events and people around them, and often complain of simply feeling nothing, or boredom, rather than the heart-wrenching, shirt-tearing sadness that (non-depressed) people imagine when they think of depression. The 4 guys are certainly caught up in the excitement of doing something larger than life, but chances are good that their depressed friend is wrestling with the disturbing thought that even now, with all this going on, he just doesn't really feel anything. He is probably also becoming very aware that his closest friends, the ones he confided in, simply don't understand him.

I think it's great that these guys, who clearly have no background in Psychology, are trying to help their friend. It's touching. I'm just concerned that they're going about it all wrong. They've shifted their focus from "You need to get some help." to "Let's give you something to think about besides killing yourself." But they really need to get back to that first bit.

Untreated depression is usually accompanied by cognitive cycles (thought patterns) that are negative and self-defeating. These thought patterns can influence the actual chemical balance of your brain, making you more depressed. Learning to identify and change depressive cognitions actually impacts brain chemistry in the opposite way - elevating mood. This is not to say that clinically depressed people don't need medication; just that medication isn't ALL they need. Therapy is a vital component for treating depression and learning to live with depressive tendencies. Bicycling to Alaska is not the same as therapy.

One last thing. If you have a friend who is suicidally depressed, and refuses to seek treatment, please, tell the other important people in their life. Call their parents. Tell their siblings and teachers. Will your friend feel betrayed? Maybe. But at least then they'll be surrounded by people who are aware of the problem and trying to help. You do NOT want to be in the other scenario - the one where your friend later successfully completes suicide, and you're stuck telling the friends and family who "had no idea he was so upset!" that your buddy had come to you with his depression and you didn't tell anyone, for fear of hurting his feelings.

I learned how to use YouTube

2007-11-13T13:21:00.000-08:00

WTF - World Taekwondo Federation!

2007-11-01T14:09:00.000-07:00

Yes, that's actually the acronym for the legitimate World Taekwondo Federation. I love it!

What I don't love is not being able to post pictures. I've had trouble with this before, you may remember. Well, I thought,"I've got a new camera, it's a new day! I can upload pictures!". But now, inexplicably, my computer thinks my camera is an iPod. An iPod that REQUIRES configuration before the setup and installation process can be completed!

So anyway, I don't understand technology, and I can't post any pictures.

Halloween Scream

2007-10-29T13:16:00.000-07:00

I'm so mad I could spit! - But I won't because that's pretty gross. >:P

On October 20th, I ordered a costume from flirtylingerie.com for Halloween.

Cute, right? It was priced at $36.99, but it was on sale and the shipping was free, so I paid $29.59 total, which was a great deal, I thought.
The costume arrived on Saturday the 27th, but I didn't get it until Sunday. When I tried it on (just to be sure everything was okay - you never know) the zipper split. We fiddled with it, tried it again. This time we couldn't fix it. Upon closer examination, we discovered that one of the zipper teeth is bent.

Today, the 29th and 2 days before Halloween, I called flirtylingerie to try to resolve the issue. They agreed to exchange the costume for a new one, but I'd have to pay for the expedited shipping, which is like, $20. So I found a local shop that carries the same costume, and I requested that flirtylingerie just let me return their costume so I could buy another one (for $39) at the local store. Then things turned nasty.

They absolutely will not accept returns. After all, they said, I have to see things from their perspective. They have no guarantee that I didn't break the zipper myself. In fact, they check each costume before it leaves their warehouse, and since my costume was shipped, that must mean that the zipper wasn't broken when they shipped it (The logic is just irrefutable there, isn't it?).

I stood by my argument that I ordered the costume in plenty of time for Halloween without having to pay overnight shipping. It's not my fault that the merchandise was defective when I received it, and I shouldn't be penalized by having to pay extra shipping charges.

At this point, the manager I was speaking to suggested I get the zipper repaired, and they would reimburse me for the cost of the repair (but wouldn't mention the procedure for that). Dutifully, I took the costume to my alterations place, where they told me that they didn't have the appropriate zipper in stock, so it would take 3 or 4 days to do, and it would cost about $25.
Wait. I only paid $29 for the costume in the first place!

I called the manager back and told her about the $25 repair charge. She told me that was a ridiculous price (I kind of agree with her here) and that I'll need to find another alterations shop that is more reasonable. I point out that I don't have ALL DAY to run around town bargain hunting for repairs on my BRAND NEW COSTUME. Again, she pushes the exchange option, but won't pay for shipping. Oh, and now I'll have to pay the original listed price for the costume, since that sale has ended. So I can send them back my defective costume, and they'll send me a replacement, but now it'll cost me $7 plus overnight shipping PLUS the shipping cost to return the defective costume! Naturally, I refuse. She says she'll talk to the owner, and call me back in 10 minutes.

An hour later when I call her again, she informs me that I can order a new costume from them (at the original $36.99 price), I'll still have to pay for overnight shipping, and shipping of the defective costume, and a 15% RESTOCKING FEE (figured from the $36.99 price!) for the defective costume!

Please don't shop with them. They suck. And now I don't have a Halloween costume! :(

SHIFT!

2007-10-10T11:42:00.000-07:00

So, I'm back! Please forgive the long absence from the blog, as you probably know, the wedding had me totally occupied.

Yes, that's right, the wedding. I'm married now! You may have noticed my new and improved name in the corner over there. Yesterday, I had the first experience in what I imagine will be a long lifetime of people addressing me as the incorrect "Mrs. Winters". There is only one of me. I am a "Winter". Just one winter, not several. This is actually more convenient, because, as anyone with a plural surname knows, addressing us as a couple is easier without that extra "s" hanging around. At any rate, people almost never messed up my maiden name (Martin is pretty straightforward, after all), so I was surprised to discover how frustrating it is to have people screw up my new name. And it's not like it's very difficult. I know a Mrs. Navarratte who really has no grounds for complaint, in my opinion, when people misspell or mispronounce her name. That thing's a bitch! But "winter" is a very common word and you'd think people would be able to get it right, especially when they're looking at a piece of paper with my name on it! Oh well.

The honeymoon was awesome; we took a cruise to Grand Cayman, Cozumel, Belize City, and Roatan (Honduras). It started off a little shaky - Max unpacked my camera during the wedding to take pictures and didn't put it back, in fact it's still AWOL. So we started our honeymoon with NO CAMERA. As I was contemplating whether this was grounds for annulment, my mom came through and had us buy her a camera in Tampa (the port we were sailing from) that we could "borrow" on the cruise. So it worked out in the end, and we have honeymoon pictures, and I may eventually post some of them, if I get around to it.

Also, the first night on the ship, our meal was AWFUL. The server was a nightmare. Seriously, it was some of the worst service I've ever had in my life, and we were on a cruise ship! The service is supposed to be outstanding! So that kind of tainted the first day or so, but then the issue was resolved and we spent the rest of the cruise with a wonderful, amazing waitress who improved our opinions immensely. We had a great, great, great time, and we can't wait to do it again - with friends, maybe?

In other news, I'm currently downloading WOW. Yes, I gave in. I only have 20 people in my study! In desperation, I realized that I can download a 10-day free trial and spend those 10 days hawking my study to people who are actually playing right now. The only problem is, I think I have to pick a side - Alliance or Horde, and once I pick one, does that mean I can't talk or post in the other's forums? Because I think that's called "sample bias". I'll have to work a way around it. But anyway, I'm well on my way to wider awareness for my study... yep, that sucker'll be done in, oh, about FIVE HOURS.

In the meantime, let me let you in on a little obsession of mine. Go Fug Yourself is a fashion blog that always cracks me up. These ladies are witty and on-point; woe betide the celebutante who wears her bra as a shirt, or leaves her skivvies at home, or contracts "tanorexia". Check it out, you won't be sorry.

TELL YOUR (nerd) FRIENDS!!!!

2007-08-28T14:15:00.000-07:00

Okay, here is the site for my study:

http://devel.cecs.unt.edu/jmartin

Please, go take it. If you've already taken it, I need you to take it again. There was a technical glitch and as of right now, Tuesday, August 28th at 4.15pm, I have ZERO survey responses. The problem has been fixed, but that still leaves me with NO data. Please, please help me.

Yo-what?

2007-08-27T13:17:00.000-07:00

I was clipping coupons and I got some for "Yo-plus: Digestive Health" from Yoplait. I was skeptical, but I grabbed them anyway. Then, at the store, I noticed that the Yo-plus was on sale, and the sale plus my coupon brought the price down to about 35 cents per yogurt cup. Not bad. So I bought them. But, what do they do?

Like a lot of people, I guess (20% of America, according to the Yo-plus site), my digestive system is out of whack. It's nothing specific; I just feel yucky. All the time. Before I eat, after I eat ANYTHING - it doesn't seem to matter. It's not really enough of a problem for me to go to the doctor, because, let's face it, I don't have any specific symptoms except "my tummy hurts a lot". So I'm definitely open to the idea of not having to deal with that anymore. Yoplait is claiming they can help.

So, I went to the site, yo-plus.com, to see what all the fuss was about. Mind you, there's a lot of marketing there. The dumbed-down version of how it works that they offer consumers is:

Yo-plus has Optibalance (tm), a special blend probiotics and prebiotics to help the good bacteria beat the bad bacteria in your system. Also, it's a great source of fiber (3 grams!) and calcium, and vitamins A & D! And it's only 110 calories! Tell your friends!

If you're a health-care professional (or if you were hoping for a slightly less "magical" explanation of their product), you get a 3-page PDF.

Roughly 50% of the contents of your colon, right now, are bacteria. Our internal bacterial ecosystems are pretty much essential for life as we know it. But, like all ecosystems, there is a balance, and things like poor diet and stress can throw things off.

So, what's all this fuss about "Optibalance"?

Basically, "probiotics" are nothing new, they're just the good bacteria your doctors are always telling you to eat. L. acidophilus, anyone? Yo-plus seems to have particularly high concentrations of Bifidobacterium lactis Bb 12, a strain frequently added to regular yogurt and other products for its health benefits, namely to GI function.

"Prebiotics" are in this case, inulin, a non-digestible fiber from chicory root. It acts as food for the Bb 12 in the digestive tract, and also (presumably through its presence as a food source) selectively stimulates growth of more Bb 12 in your system.

The 3 grams of fiber? Actually, it's just the 3 grams of "prebiotic" chicory root fiber. I can't imagine it's actually helping much, since it's non-digestible. It's kind of like if I were to say I have a sofa in my living room. Plus, I have a divan in my living room! In reality, it's one, ugly couch, but when I use adspeak, it sounds like I've got a wealth of furniture, here.

So, is Yo-plus any more beneficial than just eating yogurt? I don't know. But for 35 cents, I'm willing to give it a try. Has anyone else tried it? What do you think?

Mystery!

2007-08-24T12:39:00.000-07:00

Occasionally, a random, completely irrelevant loose end springs to my mind, and gnaws away at my sanity. Today, I've been preoccupied with The Mystery of the Missing Ring.

Until several years ago, my parents (read: my mother) were (was?) in possession of Aunt E's hideous ring, or, as I like to call it, The Opal Monstrosity. This singularly unattractive gold ring featured a large opal and about 10-15 small diamonds clustered around it haphazardly in ropey, uneven settings. The ring was so spectacularly ugly that it managed to make the reasonably nice gemstones in it look like costume jewelry. It was a semi-precious nightmare. If you wanted to look like you had a jewel-encrusted boil on your hand, this was the ring for you. Also, it weighed a ton. And did I mention it was enormous?

The mysterious thing about this ring (other than the mystery of "OMG, what were they thinking?!?) is that it has disappeared. It hasn't been misplaced, of this we're certain. To my knowledge, my mother has NEVER worn it (why would she?) and until its disappearance, it resided in the top drawer of her jewelry box. Theft is the logical solution, if equally ridiculous. None of my mother's other jewelry is missing. If someone has indeed stolen it, they had to bypass other, more attractive (and potentially more valuable) pieces of jewelry, and specifically select THAT ring.

Here's what I know about it. My parents came into possession of the ring many years ago, when Aunt E and Jim were in a bit of a financial pinch. My parents gave them a certain amount of money ($800 is what I heard), and, not being one to ask for charity, yet not in a position to refuse, Aunt E gave my parents The Opal Monstrosity. It lived in my mother's jewelry box for years, and I remember marveling at its twisted, misshapen form as a young girl. Then, several years ago, somewhere between 5 and 10 years, actually, the ring simply disappeared. Vanished. Gone. No one has any idea what happened to it.

Now, while a ring of such personality and fascinating ugliness has many powers, self-relocation is not one of them. Someone moved that ring. I'm sure any statute of limitations re:theft have long since expired, and I'm just dying to know what happened to it! Where did Aunt E get it? (Why did she ever own it?) When did she give it to my parents? How much did they "pay" her for it? When did it disappear? Where did it go? Who took it there?

If you know anything about the history or disappearance of this ring, if you remember anyone wearing it (ever), or know of any anecdotes regarding it, I'd love to hear them!

Not a hack!

2007-08-22T09:41:00.000-07:00

My IRB approval letter came in the mail yesterday!!! That means I'm a real researcher, doing real research, approved by a major university! Now I'm an actual scientist!!! It's enough to make a girl want to overuse italics!

Exposition

2007-08-06T09:55:00.000-07:00

The oppressive heat of the El Paso summer was stifling, and the air was so still, she could almost hear the sweat rolling off her brow. The mid-afternoon desert sun beat down on her from above, and was reflected back to her from below by a silent sea of sand. She was impressed by how small it was. She had always imagined the desert as a place where the sun loomed, large and menacing, but she found it now a small, intensely bright disc, impossibly high, seemingly light years away.
"Well, light minutes", she said, to no one in particular.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Newsflash: It's hot.
By the way, should it be "disc" there, or "disk"? I know both spellings are correct, but I'm never sure which one to use. I went with "disc" because it's like "discus", but I could be way off.

On health care

2007-07-27T13:17:00.000-07:00

I've been sick this week and haven't gotten half of the stuff done that needed doing. I'm feeling better now, but it's Friday and I really wish I could get the last couple of days back.

I haven't been able to do much of anything because I've been hopped up on Mexican penicillin. Yes, that's right. For those of us who don't have health insurance, what would otherwise be a minor, inconvenient bacterial infection can become a health crisis. Usually, if I get sick, I just go to the health center at the university. But since I'm not taking classes this summer, I was out of luck. Fortunately, Max's parents live in El Paso, aka "Juarez North", so they were able to overnight me some foreign antibiotics of questionable origin.

Did you know that penicillin and other related, commonly used antibiotics are OTC medications in Mexico? You can buy them like you buy cough syrup and ibuprofen over here. It poses some interesting questions.

On the one hand, with the outrageous administrative costs associated with American health care ("administrative costs" are estimated to account for 70% of US health care costs), wouldn't it be great if patients could treat some of the more common and familiar illnesses ourselves? It could save millions of dollars annually, and tons of time. Think about it. Let's just take bladder infections, scourge of women everywhere. Women who get bladder infections usually get them a lot. We're talking several times a year, here. Since it's a bacterial infection that requires antibiotics, treatment usually involves a trip to the doctor. This doctor's visit probably costs about $150 to $200, and is usually paid for by insurance. They go like this:

Patient: "Doc, I have a bladder infection."
Doctor: "Geez, again?!?"
Patient: "Yeah, I know. Trust me, I'm thrilled."
Doctor: "Okay, lemme fix you up."

At this point the doctor writes 2 prescriptions, one for the symptoms (which, by the way, is available OTC in the form of Uristat), and an antibiotic for gram-positive bacteria. An antibiotic, which is, in all likelihood, cheaply available and would probably cost less than your copay if you weren't forced to buy it through your insurance. The question, then, is this: Is having a doctor write that prescription worth the $200 visit, plus medication copays and costs, plus the administrative costs of scheduling the appointment, filing the insurance claims, etc.? Maybe not.

But, on the other hand, what about the issue of over-use and over-prescription of antibiotics? If we had commonly used antibiotics available OTC in the US, would we be breeding a mess of super-bacteria, which are resistant to our antibiotics and will usher in a dark age of medicine where TB and the Bubonic Plague kill millions? I guess it's possible, but I really don't think so. I may be in the minority, but I hate taking pills and I won't take antibiotics unless I really have to and I know they'll work. There is no way I'd take the "Ampicilina capsulas" I've been taking if I wasn't SURE they'd fix my problem. But I can certainly see how some people might start taking OTC antibiotics at the first sign of a sniffle, just in case.

I suppose, for us, it is a mystery that will forever remain unsolved, mostly because no one cares to look into the progress of perceived "super-bacteria" in Mexico. There's too much money to be made by keeping the system the way it is.

On a completely different note, we brought home 2 baby ferrets on Tuesday! They're the cutest things, ever. I'll post pictures of them (Grendel and Flynn) later.

Traveling Circus

2007-07-19T10:34:00.000-07:00

We just got back from being on "vacation" for about 3 weeks. My eternal gratitude and a cash reward goes out to Christi and Ben, who dutifully came over daily to feed the menagerie (which I suspect was poorly-behaved in our absence).

The "vacation" started out as a routine trip to El Paso to visit his parents for the 4th of July, like we've done every year for as long as we've been dating (I think). We drove the bimmer down there with plans to fix a few minor things on it while we had access to Max v.2 (mechanic extrordinaire) and his extremely well-equipped personal shop. Things got off to a slow start because, unbeknownst to us, this year was also a mini family reunion, and relatives and friends decended upon the Winter household en masse. It was fine, though, and I got to meet a lot of soon-to-be relatives, and we all had a very enjoyable time, as always. Once the holiday was over and the company had left, full attention was focused on the bimmer, and it was discovered that the little transmission problem we thought we'd solved last month... well, it was actually a much larger issue than we had realized. After considerable fretting, followed by grim resignation and a steely determination to solve the problem once and for all... I witnessed a modern miracle. The Maxes completely disassembled and totally rebuilt my BMW's automatic transmission. AND THEN, they managed to put everything back so that it actually works!

Until I witnessed it (and even helped a little!), I had no idea how much of a project automatic transmission rebuilding was. Really, if you've never seen it, you just can't know. This thing was the most complicated piece of machinery I've ever laid eyes on. To put it in perspective, we couldn't find any shops in El Paso who were willing to work on it. I have pictures of the beast - I'll post them later.

But, because of the suprise transmission-rebuild project, we weren't able to leave El Paso until the 11th (we'd originally planned to leave on the 7th). So we were home for one day before we left for Galveston on the 13th to vacation with my family at the beach house. We got back yesterday (the 18th).

Gaslveston was...Galveston. Max spent the whole time body-surfing, which he thoroughly enjoys. Despite liberal sunscreen application, I got sunburned on the first day, and was forced to spend most of the rest of the vacation inside. Actually, the sunburn itself wasn't that bad, but I also got a sun-rash on the backs of my legs which was quite excruciating. I read a novel, Catch-22, which I found in the beach house. It was pretty strange. I also spent some time walking along the beach, which I enjoy, but I was deterred a few times because fishing boats nearby were causing lots of dead catfish to wash up on the shore. Seriously, on one 20-minute walk, I counted 23 dead fish on the beach, and that was just in my immediate path. Fortunately, I couldn't smell the dead fish over the pungent stench of rotting seaweed which is a Galveston staple.

That's the thing about Galveston. Yes, it's a beach, and it has beachy elements, like the ocean breeze and the sound of the waves against the shore. The problem is that the ocean breeze carries with it a repugnant stench, and the SIGHT of the waves, like chocolate milk, lapping against the muddy sand is less than inspiring. The mounds of stinking seaweed which accumulate on the shore and are bulldozed almost daily into large piles attract huge swarms of gnats which make sitting on the beach unpleasant. The air is thick with mosquitoes. I don't swim in the water there because I find I can't wash the smell of it out of my hair for days afterward. I suspect that all of the Gulf of Mexico is similar. It's just not a nice place, really. Sure, Galveston can be fun, and you can go there and have a great time, but don't believe anyone who tells you it was beautiful. It just isn't. The crab, however, is excellent.

100th Post!!!

2007-06-25T07:42:00.000-07:00

Wow, it's the 100th post! "...And there was much rejoicing. Yay."

Okay, buckle up, cowboy. It's gonna be a long rant.

Part 1: SNAFU

While shopping for clothing, it is customary, particularly for women, who tend towards more tailored looks, to try on the articles you intend to purchase. The more expensive it is, the more likely a person is to want to try on the clothing, just to make sure it fits. All kinds of things can affect the way clothing looks on a person - the weight and texture of the fabric, the cut of the garment, etc. - so a dress that looks great on the model and great on the rack might NOT look so great on you. Even experienced shoppers can't always tell if something is going to look great on them or terrible - it's why we try stuff on.

Now, to "sample" gowns. Bridal and bridesmaids dresses are frequently only available for actual manhandling in stores as "samples". The idea is, you go in, try on a sample dress in a set size, decide if you like it, and then order the dress in your size, based on your measurements and the designer's sizing chart. When I bought my wedding dress, I tried it on in the only size they had, a size 12. To get an idea of how it will really look on me, the sales lady pinned back all the extra fabric with heavy-duty Home Depot clips. Standing there with clips all down my back, I looked more like a stegosaurus than a bride. However, the image was convincing enough, and my parents plunked down over $2K for the same dress in a size 4. In a Whataburger-style approach to fashion, the dress will be ordered and then made for me at the couture house in Barcelona, and finally shipped to the US. I won't actually see what the dress looks like on me in MY size until about a month before the wedding. It's a very strange way to do things.

Now, sample sizes are usually anywhere from a size 8 to a size 12. This means there is one dress, and ONLY one dress available in that particular style for a person to try on, and it is in whatever the manufacturer deems as the "sample size". Note that this is not the largest size available in the dress. (Because that would make sense.) What if you are one of the many women in America who can't fit a size 8, 10, or 12? No amount of Home Depot clipping will help you determine how a dress will look on you if you can't even get the thing over your boobs. Are you supposed to just hold the hanger up to you and hope it looks great? We ran into this dilemma while shopping for a bridesmaid dress for my aunt, a very attractive woman who is more of a Marilyn Monroe than a Kate Moss. We found lots of dresses we thought would look great, but she couldn't try on any of them. At this point, young sales ladies would say "Oh, don't worry, I can tell how this dress will look on you..." What?!? Does she have a crystal ball behind the counter or something? Every woman has had the experience of grabbing a dress off the rack, sure it will look fabulous on her, only to find out in the fitting room that it's a train wreck - the fabric bunches, the cut's unflattering, and it just doesn't "fall" right. If we as women, knowing our flaws and our best features, knowing the styles and fabrics we look great in and the stuff we just can't wear, if WE can't tell reliably how a dress will look on us without trying it on, how on earth does some cheeky sales lady think she can tell?? It's completely ridiculous.

Instead of offering "sample sizes" in what the manufacturer must think is the "average" woman (and clearly there's no consensus on this, even in the fashion world, since sample sizes are different from one designer to the next), sample dresses should be offered in the largest size available for that style. That way, everyone who could potentially buy the dress can try it on,
pin it back if they need to, and make an informed decision. By offering a sample dress in the middle of their size range, they are effectively excluding women who would've ordered it in, say, a 14, if they could've seen in on. It's just a poor business model that encourages women who don't fit the sample to buy dresses elsewhere, from different designers. For example, after 2 days of fighting with sample sizes, my aunt and I went to David's Bridal, where they have all their gowns in a range of sizes, and found a beautiful bridesmaids dress that we know looks great on her (because she tried it on!).

Part 2: It's the Principle of the Thing

Weddings are a business. They're actually one of the best kinds of business because they:
- are a "once-in-a-lifetime" expense (in theory)
- have women as their target market. News flash - money may make the world go 'round, but it's women that are spending it.
- are an emotional expense. I actually read an advertisement in a wedding magazine that said "He promised to treat her like a queen - until then, she's still your little princess."
- are a purposeful display of wealth and status, both traditionally and currently.

This might be why weddings are so outrageously expensive. The cost for an American wedding has gone up an average of 35% per year every year since 2000. This is clearly an example of charging as much as the market will bear - and that seems to be a lot! I'm all for capitalism, but at some point, it becomes exploitation. People shrug off ludicrous prices because "that's just what weddings cost". My question is, WHY? Why should I pay $3 a slice to have someone cut and serve a cake that I already bought from them? Why do wedding cakes START at $500? Why do snacky appetizers and hors d'oeurves cost $18 per person WITHOUT drinks? Why do brides have to pay a fee to rent the facilities at a bed and breakfast when they'd be able to use all that stuff for free if they were regular B&B customers? It's like as soon as someone says "wedding", vendors tack on 50% to all their numbers! There is just NO REASON for stuff to cost that much, and there is also NO REASON that brides should have to engage in guerrilla warfare to have a wedding that costs less than 4 years at university. Really, $500 for CAKE?!? It's shameful.

Part 3: Progression

So, enough ranting. I've been so busy I haven't had time to blog, and I keep forgetting what people know and don't know yet. Geez, just read my mind, okay? It'd make all this a lot easier!

For the wedding, we now have:
my dress (see previous post)
bridesmaids dresses
a venue
a date
a time (that was a tough one, actually)
a theme (who knew you needed one of those? It's a wedding. Aren't they "wedding-themed"?)
invitations

Well, we sort of have invitations. That's a long story, and if you receive one, you'll instantly know why. I can confidently say they are totally unique.
The theme is "fall/autumn", since that's the time of year we're getting married, and it lends itself to a lot of pretty options. Plus, now I don't have to pick out specific colors.
We've found lots of cake ideas we like, but we'll need to do tastings and stuff to get that taken care of. Then there's flowers and decorations, the DJ, the officiant, final decisions on food, and ordering the alcohol. And deciding on gifts for the attendants, figuring out what to do about favors (we want to make a donation to the Humane Society, my parents want us to pick a charity that they prefer...it's kind of a mess) and squaring away the men's attire. I'm sure there's more stuff to do, but I can't think of any of it now. So anyways, we've made some major progress, but we've still got a LONG way to go.

No Pain, No Gain.

2007-06-05T19:25:00.001-07:00

Well, it worked! Last night, we ordered my dream dress! It's a Pronovias gown, and the style is called "Ebano". I'd post a link here, but I think it might be too tempting for a certain someone who shouldn't be looking at such things. If you're interested, you can Google "Pronovias Ebano" and find it fairly easily. If you shouldn't be looking at this dress, then don't do that.

It was suprisingly easy to convince my parents to drop over $2K on an article of clothing I will only wear once. It really is MY wedding dress, seemingly created for me, personally, to wear. I put it on, and they were both like, "You're right, that's the dress." Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised.

Of course, now that I've spent an obscene amount of money on the dress (but after all, it IS all about the dress, isn't it?), I need to find ways to cut costs elsewhere. This shouldn't be too hard, because I really have very few requirements for my wedding. They are:

That Max is there.
That I'm wearing my perfect dress.
That it is not in a church.
That German beer be abundant.

Yep, that's pretty much it. I don't really care about the food, the music, the flowers, the decorations, the cake, or anything like that. Obviously, I want those things to be there, but I don't have a particular "vision" for how it all needs to be. I'm not one of those brides that has to have everything "just so". And, despite the awesomeness of my designer gown, I want the ceremony/reception to be very informal and relaxed. In fact, I don't really want a ceremony as much as I want a party that I get married at. I think I should call it a "receptemony"!

But then, there's the pictures. Here's the trouble. I want to spend money on getting my hair and makeup professionally done. My reason for this is that those pictures will be around for the rest of my life, and probably long after. I've been to funerals where they showed the person's wedding pictures from 50 years ago! I want to be totally happy with them, because that's really the most lasting part of a wedding - at least, it's the most lasting thing you spend money on.

Also, I don't need 8 million wedding pictures. I do not need videography. I do not plan to wallpaper my house with photos of my wedding. I want a dozen or so awesome pictures, maybe for like a photo album or something, and that's really it. But you would be AMAZED at how hard it is to find pricing for a photography package that DOESN'T include a mountain of pictures and an epic wedding DVD.

-------Break for sleeping---------

Okay, I wrote all that stuff yesterday. I didn't finish it because of the other thing I did yesterday, which was getting my teeth whitened! I did the ZOOM! in-office tooth whitening thing, and it was pretty weird. The good thing is that my teeth really are a lot whiter now! The bad thing was that I spent most of yesterday in excruciating pain. Having your teeth whitened HURTS. A lot. I knew I was in trouble when I sat down in the dentist's chair and they gave me 4 ibuprofen to take immediately. I glanced down at my size 2 figure and said "Do you really think I'll need all of this?" And the dental hygenist said "Yes. Trust me." Thus began my saga.

To do in-office tooth whitening takes about 2 hours. Don't believe those websites that say it only takes 1 hour. The actual bleaching only takes 1 hour. But before they get to that, they polish your teeth, like they do at the end of a regular dental checkup. Then, they put SPF 30 lip gloss on you. Then, they put this large, uncomfortable plastic brace in your mouth to keep your lips and cheeks out of the way of your teeth. Then, they medically drape your mouth, like for surgery, covering everything around your mouth from your chin to the tip of your nose in a guaze sheet. Then, the shove rolls of cotton under your tongue, which is being held back away from your teeth by that plastic brace. That's the easy part of the prep work.

Once all that is done, they use a syringe to carefully cover your gums in this liquid rubber stuff. This has to be done in stages. They put the gel on part of your gums, then they make sure it's covering your gums but not your teeth, and then they use a light to harden it. Once the goo is set, they do another part of your gums. This takes a while. Of course, the whole time, I was drooling like a hungry dog, so suctioning was frequent. In case this every comes up for you, everything they use in this procedure tastes absolutely nasty.

Once your gums have been protected, they put the bleaching gel on your teeth. It's hydrogen peroxide based and smells very chemical-y. Then they give you these rockin' orange-tinted science goggles, put you directly under a strangely shaped sunlamp for your teeth, turn off the lights, and leave for 15 minutes. Then they come back, suction off the old whitening gel, apply more whitening gel, and repeat the process.

Your teeth "tan" for 3 15-minute increments. Sometimes during this process, you feel sharp, shooting pains. I was informed these are normal, but I could feel free to call for help (How? I was so rigged up, at best I might've been able to manage an inarticulate, zombie-like moan!) and we could stop at any time. I toughed it out (though it was rough going there at the very end), and they cleaned me up and sent me on my way. At first, I just felt shooting pains that passed quickly. About 3 hours after I left the dentist's office, however, I was taking 4 more ibuprofen with great skepticism re: their effectiveness. The shooting pains became constant pains which I started to classify as a sharp ache, with occasional crecendos. Fortunately, today I'm fine!

Radiohead

2007-06-04T10:32:00.000-07:00

Well, I replaced my car. As much as I miss my Honda, I have to admit that it's replacement - a BMW (!) - is much more fun to drive! I got a 1988 BMW 325is. It's red. It's a freakin' rocket. I was going to post a picture of it, but...

Well, when I plug my camera into the computer, usually the little program pops up that lets me transfer pictures onto my computer. But this time, it didn't pop up! I don't know where that program is or how to access it when it doesn't just come up on its own...

I think what I'm saying here is that I'm technologically retarded.

But, back to the car. It's an awful lot of fun. Max has been really enjoying fixing it up for me. Of course, it ran when we bought it, but it runs so much better now... he really is an excellent mechanic. Cheap, too!

Honestly, I was looking for another Honda, and I tried this car out on a lark. I would've never considered buying a bimmer, but now I don't think I'll ever consider owning anything else. Yes, it's pretentious, it's a yuppie car, the parts are expensive, yadda, yadda, yadda. But it's the German engineering! This car runs so well. It sounds so good. It's almost 20 years old, and it still wants to be driven. It's not limping along, like you'd expect a car it's age to do. It just doesn't wear out. With a bit of preventative maintenence, these cars will run they way they're supposed to, forever. I am totally impressed. I also like that the car is sporty, but not spartan. It's fast, but not finicky like some high-performance cars can be. It's comfortable, but it's not a land yacht. And it gets about 27 mpg, which isn't too shabby.

But enough of me gushing about my car. For my birthday, Max took me to Rockfish and I ate a pound and a half of crab legs by myself! It was soooooo good! I also got Pokemon Diamond (in keeping with the engagment theme) and Hotel Dusk: Room 215 for the DS. Since my parents were yachting in the British Virgin Islands over my birthday (the nerve!), we're going to do a Jess & Dad birthday combo celebration sometime soon, in fact, I think it's this weekend (?).

I've been working on wedding stuff, finding a dress and a venue, but it's been all uphill. I found the perfect dress, but it's $2000 and has to be imported from Spain. Oops. I really, really love it, though. I think my mother will not be best pleased.

I should really be working on my thesis, but I've been so busy with the wedding and the car thing, I really haven't had the time. Once I get the venue and date nailed down, I should be able to get back to it, though. I really need to push the IRB thing through this month.

I watched Ellie the other day for my sister, and she was great! Her speech is really coming along well. I mean, obviously she's still speech delayed, but I can almost understand her now, and she's clearly using words to communicate, instead of just mimicking. So that's definately good. Potty training is ... not so good. Well, actually, it's the poopie part of potty training that's not progressing well. I'll spare you the disgusting details, but the kid dropped a load that was 3 days in the making while she was at my house. Charming. She's totally fascinated by my animals, though, which is awesome. She wasn't even afraid of the snakes! She loves the cats, the ferret, the snakes, the fish, everything. I really like to see that in a kid. She was gentle with everything and was absolutely not afraid of any of them.

This is the week of poop

2007-05-22T12:45:00.001-07:00

...and it's only Tuesday.

I just found out that I can't have my wedding at Addison's Oktoberfest. Apparently, they don't feel that a wedding is "appropriate programming" for a festival. Ahem.

What's more festive than a wedding? It's a big party. It's supposed to be about the whole community coming together to say "We approve of this!". That's why, no matter how intimate and private your wedding is, you still have to have witnesses. It's a public affair. Weddings are also pretty family-friendly. You might say it's the most family-friendly major event in a person's life. You probably wouldn't want your 7-year-old watching childbirth, and you might not bring the little tyke to great-aunt Bessie's wake and funeral, but weddings are okay. Plus, they are actually the creation of a new family, so it's hard to get more "family friendly" than that. As an aside, we're talking about a beer festival, here. Why are you bringing your kiddos, anyway?

Also, if one were to cast back in the mind regarding the history of Oktoberfest, one might recall that it was actually a wedding celebration to begin with. The first Oktoberfest took place in 1810, as a party to commemorate the marriage of Crown Prince Ludwig and Princess Therese of Saxe-Hildburghausen. They held horse races. It was cool, everyone liked it, and thus a tradition was born.

And yet, on this, the 20th anniversary of Addison Oktoberfest, a wedding is " just inappropriate".

It could've been handled better, as well. The woman I was dealing with, Barbara Kavasavich, managed to convey the feeling of looking down her nose at me over the phone. It must take years of rigorous training to cultivate such snobbery.

?

2007-05-22T07:46:00.000-07:00

Why is the font size in my last post all screwy? I have no idea. I've gotten sick of trying to fix it. But, just so you know, I'm not screaming the last half of my blog at you, there. It's just a font-size error I can't seem to fix!

Announcements

2007-05-21T14:10:00.000-07:00

First, the good news.

I got engaged! On Thursday night (May 17th), after TKD/HKD, Max asked me to marry him! We were standing in the living room. I was sweaty and gross, not wearing any makeup, and in my dobok, so I looked like a dead 12-year old boy. He psyched me out with flowers and then pulled out the ring while I wasn't looking. Crafty, that one!

I was planning to announce the engagement by posting a picture of the ring here, but while I was waiting for my dad to send it to me, something else happened...

I went to a bridal show on Sunday at the Bass Performance Hall in Dallas. It was okay. There were a million vendors there. They sent us on this scavenger-hunt, where we had to get each vendor to sign off on their booth in the program. If you do this, they enter you in a big drawing to win like, 40 prizes, some of which were pretty awesome, like a 7-night cruise to Hawaii.

After 4 hours (!) of legwork, I entered my name and hoped for the best. We were getting down to the end of the list, when my name was finally called. (The cruise had already been taken at this point, but I thought I might snag a gift certificate for something). Lucky me, I won.....

...a totally hideous set of 4 western ranch-inspired chargers and a matching napkin holder!

I kid you not. This stuff was like, antiqued brown-ish rust-colored aluminum, poorly assembled (probably in Mexico), with ranch symbols stamped around the edge of the chargers. I smiled graciously, and returned to my seat, running through my mental list of people who might appreciate such a thing. (No one I know.)

As we were leaving the building, another bride came up to me and complimented me on my prize! She gushed about how she thought they were just beautiful and I was so lucky to have won them! I promptly handed them to her and said "Congratulations! They're yours!", smiling broadly. She was floored. We took a picture! It's a great story!

Then my day went down the toilet.

Remember my car? I do. Now memories are all I have of it, because my car was stolen.

Yes, you read that right. Some jerkface walked past my mom's Z3, glanced at my sister's newer, sexier Honda and thought, "Nah, I'll take the old, ugly one. I'll take Jessica's car."

They knew it was Jessica's car, too, because it had a sticker in the back window with my name on it, as well as all my CDs in my pink CD holder, sitting in the front seat, clearly labled "Jessica". Mine! My car! Not yours!

I only had liability insurance (who steals an '89 Honda Civic?!). I am unemployed. I am getting married in 4 months. Barring personal injury, this is pretty much the worst thing that could've happened to me. <----Not a hyperbole. This blows.

Of course, I filed a police report and jumped through all the necessary hoops. The detective assigned to my case called me today to ask some questions, and he told me that in all likelihood, my car was stripped for parts. Apparently, early-model Hondas are popular with the street-racing types (?!?!?). I can totally see that. I mean, my car could do 0 to 60 in like, 2 minutes!

Long story short, I'll probably never see my car, or my CDs, or my flying frog that hung from the rear-view mirror, or my bobble-head alligator on my dashboard, ever again.

Thank you, random criminal scum, for stealing my car and putting financial strain on us during an already financially stressful time. I know you'll never care that you robbed me of something that had great emotional value. You don't give a rat's ass that I feel violated, vulnerable, and helpless. You're probably elated that you stole my car, and you're almost certainly never going to be caught for doing it. Congratulations, whoever you are, for being such a calloused, despicable waste of space. You're not even worth my anger.

Monster Mash

2007-05-15T10:44:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'm taking the gloves off and jumping, bikini-clad, into my sister's relational mudpit.

Here's the deal:

She has a Facebook, and a Myspace, just like everyone else (except me because I'm not an emokid). Regrettably, she uses the same, blindingly stupid password for everything that needs a password. This is a mistake on her part. Her boyfriend found her Myspace and became suspicious, because, you know, she has friends on there. Friends are bad, because they might tell her that he's a loser. So he gets all upset, and starts snooping, and finds she has a Facebook. Granted, it's not like she's keeping this a big secret - I knew she had a Facebook, even though I don't have one and have never seen hers. He "hacks" her Facebook (basically, he guesses her pass1word - oops, I mean password) and finds she's been talking to her ex-boyfriend.

What to do, what to do? It's also no secret that she's been in off-again on-again contact with said ex, but on a strictly friends level. The conversations he's unearthed are not scandalous confessions of love and passion - they're benign conversations about work, bands, etc. We are faced with a dilemma.

Obviously, finding out your girlfriend is having conversations with her ex behind your back is not good. However, knowing the exact content of those conversations, it's easy to see there's nothing going on here. How can we handle this situation?

Well, I'll tell you! We could:
A) bring it up and talk about it. Say "I noticed (avoid mentioning the snooping and the hacking) you're talking to so-and-so again. I'm really not comfortable with that, because he's your ex. Can we talk about this?"

or B) deactivate her Facebook account and get steaming mad and throw a huge fit.

Pop Quiz: What do you do?

Well, if you're my sister's boyfriend, you pick "B". "B" is the new "C"! (inside joke, sorry!)

Seriously, he's acting like a feces-flinging primate, here. My sister is not his property. He can stop acting like an angry silverback any time, now.

I'm not thrilled she was talking to her ex - he's a loser, and there is a very long list of reasons why he's her ex. But that doesn't excuse her current boyfriend's behaviour. This isn't the first time he's been confused about the "relationship vs. ownership" thing. In fact, if he'd let her have some friends, maybe she wouldn't need to be sneaking conversations with people over the internet!

My sister sure can pick 'em. I think it's deliberate on some level. You know how everyone hated Kevin Federline, and then Brittney Spears divorced him and went ballistic, and suddenly K-Fed (or Fed-Ex, my personal favorite of his nicknames) started looking like an emotional giant, without actually changing anything? This is like my sister and her relationships. She wants to be emotionally mature and responsible, but that takes work, and let's face it, it's kind of a hassle. So, instead, she just dates guys who are, for lack of a better word, complete fucktards.

So that's it, they're both wrong. Wrong in this situation, wrong for each other, just plain wrong. So why won't she break up with him and move on? Why does she actually try to defend his behaviour? I mean, sure, every girl is stupid about relationships when they're young, and oftentimes we put up with stuff when we're 16 or 17 that we'd never tolerate when we're older. Basically, we grow up. But my sister isn't 16 or 17 - she's 22. The longer she spends with this loser, the less time she'll have to spend with someone who will actually love and respect her. Not that I'm saying she's ready to jump into a healthy, happy relationship with an emotionally stable and supportive person, but she's certainly not moving in that direction with her current boyfriend.

But, for all my fire-breathing, there's absolutely nothing I can do. This is the now-familiar sensation of having to sit back and allow her to fail.

Uncertainty

2007-05-10T11:08:00.000-07:00

I'm hesitant to write about this in a public space, but this is essentially my journal and I can write whatever I want. I think it's important to write stuff like this down, so I can look back on it later... And besides, no one reads this blog, anyway!

So, he's bought the ring. I know he has, because I picked it out. The receipts are on the dining room table. It's a done deal.

Or is it? I'm pretty sure the thing's been ready for a week, but I know he hasn't even picked it up yet. It comes up now and then, because I keep expecting him to ask me, but he doesn't. He's asked my dad, he's told his family - we've even received a letter of "unofficial congratulations" from his grandma! But he hasn't asked me. Why?

It's kind of become a point of contention, and neither of us like to talk about it. (Shouldn't this be making us happy?) I get the feeling he's treating asking me to marry him like a chore. That's not what I want. It was eating at me so I asked him about it. One of the greatest things about our relationship is that we're perfectly honest with each other. But when he, in perfect honesty, confirmed all my fears - that it did feel like a chore to him, and he was having second thoughts, and he wants to make sure he wants to do it instead of being pressured into it - it didn't exactly fill my heart with warm fuzzies about the greatness of our relationship.

Now, I appreciate what he's trying to say, here. For one, he's being honest, not vindictive. He really wants to make sure he's doing it for the right reasons, and that's probably hard for him to assess right now, being that the environment just became pressurized. And it's not like I'm the only one putting pressure on, here. I mean, his father called to congratulate me and welcome me to the family, and I had to tell him that technically, there's nothing to congratulate yet. Talk about awkward! The problem is, the sources of pressure are:

1. The potential wedding date. We want to get married in September. We've talked about this, and agree that it would be awesome. However, it is now May. If he proposed right now, that leaves me with about 4 months to throw a wedding together. I'm not against changing the date, but if we want to keep it where it is, from a logistical standpoint we really don't have time to wait on this engagement thing. I admit I've pressured him a bit about this, but that's only because I know the wedding planning will be primarily my responsibility. I want us to have the wedding we both want, and I don't want to go insane doing it.

2. The length of time we've been dating. We've been dating for over seven years. That's a long, long time. I've been feeling pressure and fielding questions from family and friends about the engagement/marriage issue for years, but he's only just now getting a taste of it. And there is a common sentiment among our friends and family that "it's about time". They say it as an encouragement, but I think he takes it as a criticism. In a way, it is a criticism, and an honest one. He says he doesn't want me to be expecting a proposal, because then it feels like something he has to do instead of something spontaneous that he wants to do. But really, what am I (or our families) supposed to think at this point? When you buy an engagement ring, people expect a proposal will be forthcoming. I mean, why else would you buy it? And of course, it's not a surprise. How could it be? It's not like we barely know each other. Truthfully, we could've done this several years ago.

And that's part of the problem. In fact, it may be the root of the problem. Why didn't we do this several years ago? I would have. I've been waiting on him. For years and years.

He always said that he "just didn't feel ready", which is valid, I suppose, but still doesn't really answer the "why" question. So it leaves me filling in that blank with "It must be something about me." Really. I mean, you either love someone, or you don't. You can live with them for the rest of your life, or you can't. There's not a lot of room for fence-sitting, here. I'm sure, so what is it that's making him unsure?

And, in the ultimate example of tautological argument, his uncertainty is making me uncertain! The longer he waits, the more I wonder if this is so right after all. I want someone who is head over heels in love with me and can't wait to spend the rest of his life with me. I was really hoping for some unbridled enthusiasm, here. His hesitation, first with openly discussing it, and now with the proposal... well, frankly, I'm concerned.

So here I am, back in the same conundrum I've been stuck in for as long as I can remember. I love him, and I know he loves me. So what's the problem? Why does talking about (or in this case, moving toward) our future together make us unhappy? Do I wait around indefinitely for something I desperately want but may never materialize, or do I leave a comfortable relationship with a wonderful person I'm in love with because I'm tired of waiting? Neither of these options is particularly appealing.

Here I am, stuck in the middle with you.

A Little Rant, Just for You!

2007-05-09T11:06:00.000-07:00

No, really, you don't have to read this. I was typing an email and realized that I was basically just ranting, and email's not really the place to do that. Why dump your troubles all over one person when you can dump them on the whole internet? That way, at least the burden is shared globally.

So, I'm just going to copy and paste the whole "email" right here. For those of you playing along at home, Dr. Henson is my major professor, the guy in charge of my thesis. He's also a statistician. Like, that's basically his job, statistics.

----Email start------
Ugh. Dr. Henson is so freakin' critical of my thesis (admittedly his job), but he's not being specific! I just don't know how to give him what he wants! Just when I think I've over-explained something to the point of ridiculousness, he asks me for more detail! And he wants me to be more specific about the data analysis, but I really don't know enough about all that to BE more specific! I was really hoping for his help, here. It's like, he acknowleges that he'll take my data and do his own thing with it later, but in the mean time he wants me to become a statistician and pull variables out of my ass! I mean, I don't even know what I can do with this data, conceptually. His response is basically that if I can't be more specific, then I need to review my coursework or take more courses. But, I made A's in those stats classes. I know enough about statistics to get by, when someone tells you what stats to run! But I have NO IDEA how to figure out which analyses to use on my own. No one teaches you that! It's something you can only learn from experience, and by consulting with people who know more than you (which is what I'm trying to do, last I checked!)

Also, he's going to be completely GONE from July 7th to the end of August, so I can't finish my thesis this summer, it's going to have to be in the fall. The good news is I don't have to pay for summer classes. The bad news is I can't graduate until December, and I think that's about the worst thing that could possibly happen to me right now.

----End of email------

Okay, so maybe it's not the worst thing that could possibly happen to me right now, but it's pretty bad. Like, bad on a scale where dying in a fiery car crash would be better. At least that way I wouldn't have to keep working on this damnable thesis.

I think at this point, I hate my thesis more than I hate laundry, and that's really saying something. Right now, it is the bane of my existence.

The Waiting Game

2007-05-08T12:53:00.000-07:00

I had the exam to end all exams yesterday, and I can firmly say that I've sworn off Japanese for at least 3 weeks. I have now officially taken all the Japanese classes that are on offer at UNT. For my next language, I think I'll study German. You're laughing, but I'm serious. There are several reasons for this:

I won't actually need to take classes to learn German. I live with someone who speaks German (and was "German Student of the Year" back in high school!) and already owns all the German textbooks. Plus, there are a lot of websites that will teach you German for free! I like this one by the BBC. As motivation, I like lots of German things, like German beer and pretzels! And then, there's always this little guy!

In my recent wanderings on teh interwebs, I found some cool stuff!

Lolcats is the term for funny (sometimes photoshopped) images of cats (and occassionally other animals) with amusing captions. The captions are, as a rule, misspelled and grammatically incorrect, however, there does seem to be a fascinating structure to this kitty pidgin, as some have pointed out. At any rate, if you're looking for a laugh, Google "lolcat" and browse around! Also, you can try searching for "Caturday" on YouTube, if you're more of a compilations person.
Be warned that some lolcat captions contain language that may be objectionable, if you're sensitive to that kind of thing.

I also found Consumatron.net, which is basically some guy that gives little one-minute rants which are sometimes rather insightful, and usually funny, but not in a laugh-out-loud kind of way.

That's about it! Until next time, I'll be here, waiting...

Astral Conjunction

2007-04-17T12:19:00.000-07:00

It has come to my attention that I haven't posted in a while. (Thanks, Sarah the serial-poster!)

You know what's great about thumbdrives? They're tiny and convenient! You can take them anywhere! They can hold my whole thesis!

You know what's not-so-great about thumbdrives? They're tiny and inconspicuous! They could be anywhere! You could lose your whole thesis!

Not to worry, though. While I have lost my thumbdrive (for the moment - it's around here somewhere....) it's not the only place I have the most recent iteration of my thesis saved. I know myself far too well to have done something like that. I mean, I'd lose my own head if it wasn't firmly attached! Honestly, I'm shocked I haven't lost the thing before now.

Anyway, it's been a while, so here are some updates.

Over spring break, I went to New Orleans to fence in the Crescent City Open. I won a medal! I placed 6th in women's epee because I rock. We stayed at Le Richelieu and had a great time. I was a little nervous about seeing New Orleans after Katrina - it's the first time I've been back. The French Quarter looked really good, especially considering it was all underwater at one point. Outside the Quarter.... there were some places that are still totally devestated. I didn't see much of them, but from what I did see on the drive in and out, a city with a large economically-underpriveledged population cannot escape unscathed from a disaster of that magnitude. I mean, New Orleans was simultaneously underwater AND on fire... it's had some scarring effects. That being said, the population seems to have really pulled together, and it's definately enhanced local pride in the city and it's heritage. Some things are new, though:

Also, for our 7-year dating anniversary, Max got me some beautiful peridot and diamond earrings that I picked out while we were window shopping for engagement rings. Yes, both the jewelry purchase and the window shopping were his idea. Confused? Me too. I've narrowed the possibilites down to alien body-snatching or serious illness resulting in dramatic psychological shift. Not that I plan to DO anything about it....

Now, for the most serious question you've been asked all day:

Have you played Puzzle Quest?

It's a puzzle-RPG.
Do you like Bejewled? You'll like this game.
Do you like RPGs? You'll like this game.
Do you like Bejeweled and RPGs? This game will seize you by the throat and demand your undivided attention.

I happen to be one of the lucky indivuduals who has managed to obtain a copy. Oh yes, did I mention it's RARE? As it wasn't properly marketed (read: not marketed at all), it didn't fly off the shelves in the first 5 days, so most stores sent it back. Now people are clamboring to get it. I heard GameFly has a waiting list for it.

I have a copy, however. You can play it after you pry it from my cold, dead hands.

Martial Arts Movie Review 1

2007-03-03T20:57:00.000-08:00

I've decided to start reviewing martial arts movies, mostly because I came up with a 2-part rating scale that pretty much defines what I want out of a kung-fu movie. Do you watch martial arts movies for intense drama, intricate plotlines, and stellar acting? No. No one does. We watch martial arts movies because we like to watch people get the stuffing kicked out of them in new and creative ways!

My rating scale works like this:

Pain-face rating: How good the movie is overall, including fights, artsy-fartsy stuff like cinemetography and costuming, plot, acting, etc. I should stress that fight scenes are weighted more heavily than the other stuff... this ain't Masterpiece Theatre. This is on a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the absolute pinnacle of awesome. For reference, Fist of Legend gets a pain-face rating of 10.

Pain-face-per-minute (PFPM)!: How often (in my very rough estimation) someone on the film is making a painful face. Let's be honest. We're looking for beat-downs here, and the more the better. This number doesn't have to be high to make for a good martial arts movie, but a high number here could make an otherwise abysmal movie worth watching...

So, for my first subject, I chose to watch 5 Fighters from Shaolin.

An old, crazy (and possibly drunken) Shaolin monk leaves his temple and assembles a rag-tag band of 5 fighters to train under him in a compound of their own design, in the event that his long-time rival (a black magic practitioner and generally evil guy) comes back to steal a sacred kung-fu manuscript. I should stress that continuity was not important to the makers of this film. You have to watch at least an hour of this movie to piece together the premise. That's not really a problem, because the whole film is so ridiculous, it's kind of amusing. This is definately a comedy, and it relies primarily on slapstick martial arts. The 5 fighters train in 5 different styles. As far as I can tell, these styles are: Punching and kicking things, Being big and strong, Gymkata, Jumping really high, and Fighting with poles. Training sequences make up about 30 -45 minutes of this movie. At times they can be a bit tedious (mostly because the dubbed whining in English gets old fast), but they are fun to watch. At least three of the five students are actually quite good athletes (I'd say "martial artists", but one of them is the Gymkata guy, and he's clearly just a gymnast.) This makes for some fun fight scenes and fairly elaborate martial choreography, which is the whole reason we're watching these movies in the first place.
However... the plot is... well, it's a bit thin. Plus the crazy, sadistic old monk spends most of the movie cackling like an evil gnome. The bad guys are easy to pick out - they're the ones in capes and/or reflective metallic robes. Wirework? Check. The gore is spotty. In the opening scene, the bad guy sacrifices a mostly naked girl who literally explodes in a shower of blood. Then, there's several fight scenes with no gore at all (when maybe there should be), and all of a sudden you have bodies that detonate at the slightest provocation! Soundtrack and sound effects? Oh, yeah, this movie's got 'em.... But it's not anything you couldn't do yourself with a little 10-key Casio synthesizer. Also, this movie is not available in subtitles. However, while the accents are a bit strange (sometimes they sound like the Beatles?), the voice acting itself is not actually bad. At times, one does wonder about the translation, though. (Apparently in Taiwan, they taste with their HANDS!) Finally, the ending is, shall we say, abrupt.

This is not a really good kung-fu movie. This is a ridiculous, very campy kung-fu movie with frequent, very watchable fightscenes.

PFPM: at least 12!

Pain-face rating: 4

Dream On

2007-02-16T10:12:00.000-08:00

So, I was checking my email and I seem to have momentarily stemmed the flow of demands on my time! I sat there for a few moments, dumbfounded, wondering if I had reached the end of the internet. As I was beginning to feel adrift in a sea of despair, I suddenly remembered... I have a blog!

Not as if there's much to write, here. It's been the same old - same old: thesis, Japanese, more thesis. I'm finally making some progress, though, as my survey went up for "beta testing" yesterday. It's not really a beta test because I'm not testing the survey per se - I know that it's reliable and valid. I had to check to make sure it worked on different computers, with different browsers, that everyone got their automatic results, etc. Basically, I had to make sure the implementation was okay. It still needs some tweaking, but we didn't encounter any major errors, so that's a really good thing. Now I just have to re-work the front page test-intro blurb and fix a few other minor details. I'm not sure, but I think there may actually be a light at the end of this tunnel...

This weekend we're going down to Austin for the 2nd time in a month. I really enjoy visitng my aunt, but this time we're going to see the senior Max, as he has come to Austin on a small errand. It's always good to see Max's family, so I'm sure it will be fun.

Valentine's day was a lot of fun, too. We were going to go to SushiSake, a highly recommended restaurant in Dallas, but we couldn't find it! We ended up going to Stone Horse, another Japanese restaurant that has been recommended by my mother. They weren't serving the regular dinner menu, so I didn't get to try the lauded bento box, but we ate sushi, drank sake, and had a good time. I had a Cosmo that tasted like red lollipops! Plus, I got to dress up, and I always enjoy that. All in all, it was decidedly better than last year's Valentine's fiasco.

Also in the news... we have recently acquired an Xbox 360, for the purpose of Chromehounds, Gears of War, and supposedly also R6 Vegas. However, I play it for Viva Pinata! Are you familiar with Dungeon Keeper? It's like that, but much cuter and with better graphics. And since the old Xbox was on the fritz, I can finally use the new one to resume my DOA Ultimate quest for the utter subjugation of all mortals. And I can play Ninja Gaiden Black, which may in fact be the pinnacle of awesome.

Make a Little Birdhouse in Your Soul

2007-01-16T10:39:00.000-08:00

We have these cardinals that live in the tree outside the balcony, so one day I thought, "Whatever happened to my birdfeeder? It's cold out. I should feed those guys."

We went to Petsmart and bought some "Beetle Mania" birdseed (with freeze-dried worms for extra protein! Yum!) and put it out, waiting for results. Let me tell you, Beetle Mania is as big a hit with the local wild bird population as Beatle Mania was with teenage girls everywhere in the 60s! My birdfeeder has 6 perches, and they're almost always full. In fact, the sparrows and finches that flock to it get into little birdie dog-fights about who gets to sit at the feeder! Here, I took a picture:

As I was watching the feeding frenzy one day (which is infinately amusing to my cats, as you can imagine), I was particularly bored. I decided I should make a birdhouse to go out there, too. Unfortunately, they didn't have any birdhouse-making kits at any of the stores I went to. So, to kill time and keep myself from going completely stir-crazy, I got a decorative birdhouse to paint. I spent probably $15 total on cheap-o indoor/outdoor acrylic paints, some even cheaper paintbrushes, and a plain wooden birdhouse. But, for that $15, I bought literally DAYS of amusement! Here is the finished house:

I'm no artist, but I think it looks okay. To make the little white birdies, I used a stamp that I made out of an eraser! I'd never done that before! It was pretty cool. Yay, arts & crafts!

So, I've been informed that I "might be getting a little bit fat". Don't worry, I'm still a size 2, just now I'm apparently a slightly chunky size 2. Getting fat is pretty much one of the worst things that could happen to me. It has little to do with the social problems associated with overweight-ness. My little equation goes like this:

Fat = Increased Chance of Diabetes.
Diabetes = No sugar.
No sugar = The End of My World.

So, as you can see, I cannot allow this to happen. I have two plans of attack.

1. I will resume taking my ADHD medication, as planned. It's appetite-supressing side effect will prevent me from gorging myself on, say, holiday bon-bons and icing-covered gingersnaps.

2. I will only drink on days I do martial arts. No TKD/HKD = No Liquid Bread. I will only make exceptions for special occasions, like Valentine's Day. I can "save up", but drinking on "credit" is impossible. And in reality, I don't drink that much. I'm talking about a beer with dinner, or maybe one after a martial arts class. Usually, I drink between 3 and 4 alcoholic beverages in a given week. However, during the holidays, this number went up considerably. It is perhaps time to pull it back down.

That's it. Not a lot, really. But, as a vegetarian who also gets an average of 6 to 9 hours of vigorous butt-kicking exercise in per week, (although admittedly much less than that over the holdiays) I'm already living a very healthy lifestyle. I just need to go back to it.

Can't You Hear Me Knockin'

2007-01-08T16:58:00.000-08:00

So, I got Guitar Hero 2 for Christmas. And indeed, I am swiftly becoming a first-rate Guitar Hero. Soon, I'll be kicking your ass at a party near you!

I also got a DS Lite, and, let me tell you, it's awesome. Way better than the original. Plus, you can play Elite Beat Agents on it. It's a game where you save the world by dancing! Okay, really you're just tapping with the stylus, but the agents are dancing... Hey, did you know Ashlee Simpson's music is kinda dirty? I had no idea. But it is catchy.

Also, I've been playing some Titan Quest. "What's Titan Quest?", you ask. Do you remember Diablo? Or perhaps Diablo 2, affectionately termed "Re-ablo", by those in the know? If you have played those games, then you have played Titan Quest. Titan Quest is Diablo with Spartans (and slightly better graphics). "But,", you object, "why play a game you've already played... twice?". Because it's awesome, that's why. Beyond all the fluff, the beautiful cutscenes and the complex plots and the obscure Japanese storylines, what is the essence of every enjoyable RPG? Killing stuff and acquiring loot. The Diablo games and Titan Quest simply offer this in distilled form. Nothing really tops the sound of beating a digitized goatman with a club, or equipping some Godly Plate of the Whale.

I noticed someone (Kathryn!) wanted to know where I take Tae Kwon Do. See, I do read the comments! I study at Power Kicks Training Academy on Carroll Blvd. If you can forgive the cheesey website, there's some pretty valuable information there. I could wax poetic about Master Nestor and the greatness of my school, but the truth is if I don't put my dobok on right now, I'll be late for class and he'll make me do 50 push-ups.

Blogtastic

2006-12-20T07:24:00.000-08:00

I feel like death on a stick. I'm having the worst headcold of my life, and I'm running dangerously low on juice. And it's raining.

But, life hasn't been all bad recently. I had my belt test last week, and did another 15 pushups. I earned another stripe in Taekwondo and my yellow belt in Hapkido. That means I can definately hurt myself while trying to kick your ass. The weirdest part was when I had to spar with this girl for Hapkido. She wrestled me to the ground and wrapped my braids around her fist! I mean, if I'd known I was going to be mud-wrestling, I would've worn heavy eyeliner and a bikini. As I understand it, most martial artists frown on hair-pulling. She kept punching me in the face, which wasn't allowed because we didn't have gloves, and I said (between bites of knuckle-sandwich) "Hey, no punches to the face!" To which she responded (mid-blow) "I'm not punching you in the face!" So then I was confused as to why her knuckles kept hitting my face. Luckily for me, she hits like a girl.

A while back (but since my last post) I was turned on to a game called Bookworm Adventures. It is the epitome of word-nerdery. It's an RPG where you do damage based on the length of the words you can spell. It's kind of like solo Scrabble, but more fun. You get this Hall of Fame feature where it keeps track of your top 10 words. I'm particularly proud of "castigated".

I haven't been blogging much lately because I've been busy playing the heck out of Medieval II: Total War. Soon, the Venitian mafiosos will rule the planet. I mean, sure, I have armies, but the real work is done by my good friends Tony and Guido. Grease a few palms here, break a few kneecaps there, and my enemies are begging for mercy before we even set foot on the battlefield! And with the pope, a fellow Venitian, in Doge Bartolomeo's back pocket, our business just happens to also be God's business.

Actually, I was going to post more, but all this talk of world domination has given me the urge to go show the Holy Roman Empire who's really in charge.

It's not blasphemy

2006-11-20T08:00:00.000-08:00

This is me not studying.

I had a very busy weekend. On Friday night, I had my very first belt test in Taekwondo and Hapkido. I was really nervous about it, mostly because I knew I'd have to do 10 pushups. Two weeks ago, I couldn't do one pushup, which sounds really wussy, but it's actually pretty normal. Most women struggle with doing real pushups, because we've been doing girly knee-pushups since at least junior high. I had trained myself to do chataranga, or yoga pushups, which actually led to a bit of an embarrassing problem.

From plank pose (aka pushup position), I can lower myself to the ground slowly, with control, keeping my body perfectly straight, and my elbows glued to my sides. I can hover there, 2 inches above the ground for at least a full minute, without sagging or collapsing. The trouble is, I can't get back up! In yoga, you don't need to; after you're done holding in the "hover" pose, you just drop to the ground and push through to upward-facing dog (tops of feet on the floor, hips low to the ground, arms straight, back arched, looking up at the ceiling). When I'd try to push up (a critical part of pushups, I understand), there was just nothing there. It was like I didn't even have the muscles necessary to do it; I didn't feel straining, I just didn't feel anything. I was stuck! I couldn't even tell which muscles I should be using.

Confused about how to develop strength in muscles I wasn't sure I had, I turned to that great reservoir of knowledge, the internet, for answers. I came across a great website, Stumptuous.com, where I found my solution. I did inclined pushups, with my feet on the floor and my hands on something higher - the kitchen counter, the dining room table, a chair, the piano bench - gradually working my way towards the ground. When I'm doing pushups on inclined surfaces, I make sure to go all the way down and come all the way back up. I can't go quite that far yet during regular pushups, but I can, actually, for real do what I call a big-girl pushup. In fact, I can do 10 of them, as I found out Friday night at my belt test. Moral of the story? You can do pushups, too. Real ones. Big-girl pushups. It's very empowering. You should try it!

So, after the pushups, I had to do my form (for Taekwondo), demonstrate some basic punches, kicks and breathing excercises (for Hapkido), and perform my required Hapkido techniques, plus sparring. So basically, as a white belt 1st stripe in Hapkido, I can definately get away from you if you grab me by the wrist. Not too exciting, but everyone's gotta start somewhere!

After all that - and this is pretty cool - I broke a board with my fist! It was the end of the Taekwondo test, and I did a Hammer Fist break, my first ever in life. It hurt because I did it wrong, but I did break the board on the first try, and I didn't break my hand. So now I have two broken pieces of wood on my dining room table that I'm not sure what to do with.

That was Friday night.

Saturday, I fenced epee in the first tournament I've competed in in almost 2 years. And what do ya know? I'm still a pretty decent epeeist. I put in a respectable performance, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't pleased with myself. The tournament lasted ALL DAY (as usual), and afterwards I went to see Casino Royale with a very handsome young man. Have you seen that movie yet? Best. Bond. Ever.

Yes, better than Sean Connery.

Update-O-Rama

2006-11-07T08:54:00.000-08:00

So, Halloween was pretty cool. Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures, but I went as Little Red Riding Hood, the roommate was a pirate, and he-who-shall-not-be-named went as....himself. In his defense, he was going to go as a woodsman (to go along with the Little Red Riding Hood theme), and he even had elaborate details of the costume planned out, down to the severed wolf-head prop (which I thought was kind of a gross idea, but whatever, he's a guy.) We were having trouble finding a suitable axe, though, as most Halloween axes seem to fall into the "battle axe" or "executioner's axe" categories. We DID manage to find a plain ol' woodsman's axe, though slightly small, at a place called Spirit. However, the TERRIBLE music sapped our commercialist spirit and drove us screaming from the place before we managed to make our purchases. Really. You've heard of those "Kids sing the Top-40 from 5 years ago" compilations? It was "Kids sing party/Halloween songs". A children's choir covering KISS is pretty much the worst thing in the universe.

For the actual night, I'd planned to eat pizza, drink pumpkin beer, and watch "Mazes and Monsters", a Tom Hanks movie my sister gave me as a joke, because I'm such a D&D nerd. Instead (and, after viewing the aforementioned movie, this was probably for the best...) we went to The Flying Saucer for pizza and delicious import beer. We stayed quite a bit later than we'd wanted to, because we were informed that a costume contest would be held, and the powers that be wanted me to participate in it. (In all modesty, I looked HOT!) So anyway, we stayed, and I did in fact win $50. Victorious, we returned home and went straight to bed. I'm getting too old for this!

I was stoked at having won the $50 because that Friday, my sisters and I had planned to go out, just the three of us. I figured I'd drink my winnings, and essentially go out with my sisters for free. I was really looking forward to it, actually. However, it was not to be.

To make a very long story short, my prodigal sister got herself into lots of trouble again, and I spent all day Friday bailing her out. I was willing to do this because 1) I'm her sister, and 2) I really thought she was ready to join the rest of us over in Sanityland, where we live happy, successful lives through responsible decision-making. Sadly, I fear now that this is not this case. I was (and still am) deeply disappointed in her for getting herself in that position in the first place, but mostly for her nonchalant attitude about it. I didn't get the impression that she was remorseful or even embarrassed at her circumstances. Of course she was grateful, and promised to reform, but in that moment, all the promises sounded like a mockery. I couldn't believe her, even though I really wanted to. In a few hours during that terrible afternoon, I came to realize what I should have known all along: My actions alone cannot help her. She has to help herself, and despite my wishful thinking, she's not ready to do that yet. If I could take her place, I'd have her life cleaned up in a month. But then, it wouldn't be her life. I'd be my interpretation of a "good life" under her circumstances.

So, for a few days I've been carrying around this big bundle of horrible emotions, looking for something to do with them, some way to fix them. Now, I'm realizing that there is no resolution for my feelings of disappointment, frustration, anger, and helplessness. I have to just let them all go. I handled the situation in the only way I felt I could, and still be able to look myself in the mirror. I can now say without a doubt that I have freely and wholeheartedly given her the best chance to escape the quagmire that is her life. If she chooses not to reach escape velocity, that's on her conscience, not mine. Not that I'm giving up, far from it. I'm just acknowledging my sister's right to fail. She doesn't owe me anything, not even success.

Candide

2006-10-24T08:55:00.000-07:00

So, we went to dinner with my family on Saturday for the massive October Birthday Extravaganza, with special guest Aunt Gayle. It was good. While I was there, I discovered a few things. You know that feeling you get when you're out in public and someone you're with says or does something incredibly stupid or potentially offensive, and you just want to crawl under a table and die of shame by association? I think parents exist to do that to their kids. I think they know it, and they enjoy it.

Also, I'm glad I'm not my sister, because if I was, I would've probably murdered my brother-in-law by now. I mean, I really like him, don't get me wrong. But sometimes, I just want to kick him in the mouth. Naturally, I'm biased, and I know I don't see the whole story, but I feel like he doesn't appreciate my sister enough, and that he doesn't share in the responsibilities. I wouldn't put up with it. Which is probably why I'm not married to him. Or anyone, for that matter...I'm a single, overeducated, bitter little woman who lives with 4 cats!

My cousin has apparently decorated her office in an Asian theme, and during the course of the evening, my aunt said she thought it would be cool if I could do some oragami or calligraphy or something for her. That's fine - the question is, WHAT? What kind of an oragami object (or objects) should I fold? Do I just send a collection of artfully folded paper, or do I make some kind of mobile or display out of it? For calligraphy, what should I write? I think she's a juvenile probation officer, or maybe she does some kind of drug prevention program. Should I write something like that, or just something general like "harmony" or "relaxation" or something? Calligraphy is such a strange thing. It's like, "Write a word for me that I will frame and turn into art. Make it cool." So, anyway, ideas would be greatly appreciated.

Momma said knock you out

2006-10-10T11:08:00.000-07:00

Great news! My major professor got promoted to department chair! Having such a successful and prestigious person working with me on my thesis makes ME look a little successful and prestigious, too.

Terrible news! My major professor got promoted to department chair! I only just found out because I finally tracked him down today after two and a half weeks of unreturned emails and phone calls. He is beyond busy. The trouble is, I need his guidance, input, and approval at pretty much every step of this process. Not because I'm needy, just because that's how these things work. And while I'm really glad that his career is taking off, my career has ground to a screeching halt until he can catch up with me on this thesis. It's like boldly striking out to sea, and then turning around to realize vital members of the crew are still back at port. It takes the wind right out of your sails.

I started doing Taekwondo and Hapkido. Mostly, it's therapy. I have decided to get over certain crippling self-confidence and self-criticism issues, and I think this is the best way to do it. The master I'm studying under is a born teacher, and seems to really understand the psychological development process that comes out of studying martial arts. He's also a total hardass, and I have no illusions about him going easy on me or being sympathetic. He's understanding, encouraging, and very demanding. I signed up for six months, and at the end of that time, I think I'll either have made some real strides in working through my issues, or I'll be a ruined shell of a woman. Either way, at least I'll be getting a good workout.

So far, I've only cried once, and that was really just due to an adrenaline dump. Last Thursday, we had to spar in pairs for points. I was paired up with this brown belt chick (read: waaay above my skill level). To make it an even match, she had to earn more than double the points I scored against her to win. I didn't expect to get any points at all, since I'd never sparred before in life, but it ended up 6-3. She kicked me in the head twice, and that was a little surprising. I think I still have a bruise on my jaw from where her foot made contact with my face. Because I scored 3 points, she needed to have scored 7 to win, but we called it a draw because she threw up right after the match. I was okay for a few minutes, just a little shaky, and then BAM! the waterworks kicked in. I wasn't upset or hurt, I was just, I dunno. Overloaded I guess. And maybe a little freaked out about getting kicked in the head by a, um, fairly heavy-set girl. I honestly didn't expect her to be flexible enough to get her foot all the way up there!

In terms of the sports themselves, I don't like Taekwondo at all. I go to the Taekwondo classes so I can be strong enough to do Hapkido. Hapkido has some punching and kicking, like in Taekwondo, but it's also a lot of joint manipulations and pressure points - so far I've learned a couple wrist locks, a hip throw, and an arm-bar with a pressure-point strike. It appeals to me I think because it's a lot more cerebral, and also it seems more practical, like real self-defense stuff instead of a bunch of Karate-kid nonsense. When I practice Hapkido, I don't feel like a stupid Bruce Lee-wannabe. I feel like a badass.

I win!

2006-09-28T10:57:00.000-07:00

Do you have any idea how cool I am? Oh, I don't think you do. I just managed to work the words "multifarious" and "obfuscate" into the same sentence for my thesis! Indeed, my word-nerdery knows no bounds. (As evidenced by the fact that I'm blogging about it...)

This calls for a song.

A Clockwork Orange

2006-09-22T14:03:00.000-07:00

So, I finally checked Sarah's blog and took the hint that I need to update.

Truthfully, I haven't updated partially because I didn't want to write about a certain event, but I feel I can't leave it out of my little experiment in digital exhibitionism. I still don't want to write about this, so forgive my short treatment of it here. It is not for lack of emotion.

My ferret, Puck, died. A few weeks ago, we started noticing some strange sores on his back. We took him to the vet, they thought it was allergies, we got medicine and moved on. Then, a few days later, he started having breathing problems. First, it was bad coughing, and then he would just sit and heave/wheeze. So we took him to the vet again, and this time they were more concerned. After a flurry of tests and procedures, the vet concluded it was probably cancer. Armed with a bunch of medications and food supplements, we took him home and hoped for the best. However, after about a week he had stopped eating and drinking, and was also having trouble walking. Plus, he was still really laboring to breathe. So last Friday (one week ago today), we took him to the vet again. The vet agreed he was indeed much worse, and probably wouldn't get any better. We both knew he was really suffering. We had him put to sleep. He was almost 6. He is dearly missed.

Later that day, friends from El Paso arrived for a visit that had been months in the works. We had lunch at The Loophole and made our way to Oktoberfest that evening, for our annual dose of German beer, polka music, and liederhosen. Unfortunately, I think our visitors were not terribly impressed with German beer (sacrelige!) and the festivities in general, no doubt preferring their own cultural parties, the infamous Fiesta! It's true, Mexicans do know how to have a good time. They don't even really need an excuse for it, whereas the stodgy Gerries seem to allow themselves only one really big shindig annually. I would point out, however, that both the German and Mexican traditional varieties of parties involve accordians and beer.

To be fair, our guests arrived quite sick, and I imagine that may have also impacted their "party-readiness". All in all, I had a great time, and I came very close to winning a "Best Beer Belly" contest with my awesome yoga abs! It was okay, though, because I lost to a guy who had clearly been "training" for this very event almost his whole life. He deserved to win, and I had no problem losing to him. Plus, I got a consolation prize! (A gift certificate to the food court in the Addison Civic Center? Oh well.)

While at Oktoberfest, we ran into a certain John Safranek, whom we had not seen in some time. He's got such ecclectic interests; apparently now he's a watchmaker. Amazingly, I don't doubt that he's very good at it. Evidently, he's been making a lot of money at it - so much in fact that he's planning to quit his job teaching at the university and do watch repairs full-time. He's gotten so much business, he's had to shut down his website several times. Safranek and I are both currently trying to convince a certain jewelry and metalsmithing hobbyist with a penchant for mechanisms, an eye for detail, and a supernatural ability to work on very small things that we have found his calling; he need look no further. Heck, he's even German! Becoming a watchmaker is like, his genetic destiny, the culmination of generations of Winters, toiling to produce the perfect horologist.

You must admit, it has the makings of a TV special.

The day after Oktoberfest, we all went sailing with my parents and had a good time. Then, our guests went back to El Paso (they left at 4 AM!) and the weekend was over before I'd realized it had even started!

May be Vader some day later

2006-09-08T14:44:00.000-07:00

A while back I wrote about my silver mollies having babies. Remember, with the mysterious disappearances? Well, we ended up with 3 silver molly babies who've done just fine. I still can't get a picture of them, though. Sadly, I think perhaps my digital camera was not designed for aquatic photography. Anyway, a few days ago, while I was admiring the 3 half-grown baby mollies in the baby-box, something caught my eye. A baby guppy was hanging out (or more likely hiding after running for his life) at the top of the tank near the baby-bin! So, we ousted the mollies and put the baby guppy in there instead, along with another female guppy who looked about ready to have her fry. (We put the little divider-thingy in there, of course, because she'll eat the babies otherwise. Nasty creatures, really.) Then, last night, my guppy mommy had babies! Now we have 10 baby guppies! They are tiny - even smaller than the molly fry. So, anyway, if you want some free fish, I just happen to have a few extras...

After my all-too-brief respite, school has started back up again, and I am busy as usual. My Japanese class is kicking my butt. After not studying it at all over the summer, I feel as if I've forgotten more than I ever learned. Yes, it would seem that now I have an inverse knowledge of Japanese. Unfortunately, this is a class I'm taking solely because I want to, so I can't just write it off. In fact, I feel motivated to study for it even when I don't want to study. It's maddening, really. I keep telling myself to back off, relax and stop being such a nag about it. Geez! Can't I just goof off for a bit?! I'm such a slave driver!... These conversations I have with myself are leading me to believe that I may be spending too much time alone.

Hey! Do you know what happens next weekend? I'll give you a hint...It involves lots of beer! That's right! Addison's Oktoberfest (which is always in September) is next weekend. I'm so stoked! This is becoming my favorite holiday. Think about it - no obligatory gift exchange, no awkward family gatherings, no cleanup even. Just German beer, polka, liederhosen, and more German beer! It's the best holiday ever!

Chocolate Archetypes

2006-08-28T17:27:00.000-07:00

So, ever since our new roommate finally moved in (after several months of paying rent NOT to live here) I've been baking a lot. He likes baked goods, and is akin to a bottomless pit in terms of food consumption. Most recently, I made a truly delicious 2-layer vanilla cake. And then I was forced to completely ruin it by covering it in chocolate frosting.

I can't stand chocolate frosting. I think the reason is because I like chocolate so much. I always feel cheated by chocolate frosting. Here we have a substance that looks, smells, and even acts alot like delicious, gooey chocolate truffle. But instead of being the paragon of chocolate good, it's just, well, not. No, gentle reader, chocolate frosting is a fraud.

In the same way, I strongly dislike chocolate cake. I know this has many people aghast. But, in my opinion, if I'm biting into a flour-based chocolate substance, it darn well better be a brownie, because brownies are like, the best thing since sliced bread. In fact, if we could replace all the sliced bread on the planet with brownies, we'd have to change the name from Earth to Utopia.
Yes, brownies are the absolute pinnacle of bread-like chocolate achievement.

Basically I guess what I'm saying here is that I don't bother with inferior forms of chocolate. Or, maybe I'm just picky.

Awwww.....

2006-08-22T11:17:00.000-07:00

So yesterday my sister called me and told me how cool she thinks I am. Seriously! She'd been talking to Max about my thesis, and was totally impressed. She even blogged about it!
Anyway, it totally made my day. I figure I'll respond in kind.

Rachel is awesome because she's got such savoir-faire. For all Sarah's quirky dorkiness and my abject nerddom, Rachel is the epitome of cool. I'm sure she must feel self-concious and out of place sometimes, but you'd never know it - she projects an aire of confidence and security that puts everyone at ease. She's also hilariously funny, and she can do spot-on impersonations that'll make you laugh til you pee. She can fit in anywhere, with any crowd. She is the only person I know who can say "nigga" and "gangsta" without sounding painfully white. She's also got rhythm - Rachel can DANCE. And I'm not talking about the whitey step-and-clap, either, this girl knows how to move. She's a total blast to have at parties. In fact, she may herself BE a portable party! Shotgun weddings, funerals, tense family gatherings... Rachel has a real talent for reading the situation and cracking the perfect joke at just the right moment, so that everybody relaxes and starts having a good time. She brings people together and encourages us all to stop taking ourselves so seriously and live with gusto!

I'll throw Sarah in here, too, because I don't want to leave her out!

Sarah is amazing. She has matured so much in the past 3 years, it makes my head spin. And yet, she's still managed to keep that essential Sarah-ness about her, an odd combination of cute, weirdo pride and endearing insecurity. And by weirdo pride, I mean she's proud to be a weirdo, like most people are proud to be American. She works very hard, and despite her occasional moments of self-doubt, she is a good mom. When it comes to her family, she is so self-less. I can't imagine having her responsibilities now, let alone being able to handle them when I was her age! Anyone who can clean up explosive toddler diarrhea and not lose their lunch has a steely determination to be admired. She's also incredibly loyal, and despite claiming to be kind of shy, she seems to make friends easily. I've always envied her ability to get along so well with other girls. She is creative, sensitive, and unapologetically goofy!

So, that's basically it - my sisters are super-cool and I'm glad my multitudinous plots to kill them when we were children failed! Even though I totally could've gotten away with it...

The Force that Physics Forgot

2006-08-10T11:52:00.000-07:00

This is just about the cutest kitten picture I've ever seen.

I just finished the work for my online Summer II class, a riveting course on Educational Program Evaluation. Basically, educational evaluators are to the world of education what consultants are to the world of business. It's not really my cup of tea, but the textbook wasn't all that bad. In fact, in places, I even enjoyed reading it, which is a testament to the skills of the author. This stuff isn't what I'd call novel material, you know?

However, I am becoming increasingly dissatisfied with the quality of UNT's online courses. I recieved absolutely no instruction for this entire course. I read the book, I took the online tests (multiple-choice affairs which were automatically graded and recorded), and that was it. There was no discussion, there were no lectures, recorded or otherwise, and it was absolutely impossible for students to get a hold of the professor. It was not until massive confusion over the final project and the failure of the final exam to appear at the appointed time caused a wave of students to flood the department with distressed phone calls that some administrator was finally able to reach the man. He responded with a curt email, informing us that the test is now available, and not really addresing any concerns over the project, stating that it was incredibly simple and he couldn't possibly see how anyone could find it unclear. The whole thing had the sarcastically patient tone of a man who believes he is surrounded by a bunch of idiots. In fact, this man doesn't even work for UNT. He's an adjunct professor employed by the Dallas Independent School District!

Let's see.... He's not a professor, he doesn't even try to teach, he's never available for students, and he refuses to answer simple questions over projects he assigned.... I paid over $800 to take this class. I wonder, what exactly is it that I'm paying for?

Regardless, I tackled the enigmatic project, a sublime stream of BS radiating out from my body like visible waves of power. I have grown strong in The Force.

Fish update:
So, we had 3 fry, then we found 2 more in the tank. One of these mysteriously disappeared (with the lid on, no less. I have no idea what happened), and then one died. So now we're back to 3 baby fish, but these seem hale and hearty and are getting bigger every day.

Something fishy...

2006-08-07T11:27:00.000-07:00

So, sometime last night, the silver molly in our fish tank had babies! Glee! They're really tiny and almost transparent, basically just eyes and a tail. Max noticed them when he was having breakfast this morning, and spent all of his relax-and-get-ready-for-work time netting the little buggers and putting them in the "fry box", a plastic fish-breeding box which floats cleverly at the top of the tank. Ideally, you put the pregnant fish in there and she gives birth in the box, but sometimes things don't go as planned.

He had caught six of the babies when (around 6AM) his resolve caved and he woke me up to come see them. They're so cute! Before he left for work, I'd found one more, and gotten Max to fish it out of the tank. (Punneriffic!) Then I was of course fascinated by the baby fishies, so I stayed up for a while, and found two more stray babies! I put these in the tank and went back to bed around 7.

While I slept, I dreamt that other fish (in my dream, they were orange platties, which we don't have) had somehow gotten into the box and were eating the babies! It woke me up, in fact. So, around 9AM, distraught, I checked the fishy nursery.

There were 3 baby fish in there.

Now, I'm no math major, but it seems to me that there were 9 fish in there when I went back to sleep around 7. And then, 2 hours later, there were only 3. I seem to recall that three is substantially less than nine.

Did they get out? Did another fish jump in, eat some babies, and jump back out into the larger tank? I have no idea. All I know is that I'm missing 6 baby fish. And the guppies (which happen to be orange, by the way) have spent all day schooling around the fry box, menacingly. Of course, I have now put the previously superfluous-looking lid in place, and there have been no more disappearances.

At any rate, I now have some baby fish, and with the male and female mollies and guppies in the tank, I will doubtless have more soon. I'll try to get a picture of them as soon as they're big enough to see!

Dorkfest

2006-08-04T08:38:00.000-07:00

It's true! A pack of these beasties can kill an entire party of 1st-level adventurers! I mean, an AC of 14, 2 claws at +4 and a bite... who cares if they've only got 2 hp each?!

But this dorkfest has been brought on by unsettling developments in our long-running campaign. Last session, 3 of 4 party members met their untimely end. I'm sure for some *ahem Targ* death is becoming a familiar, almost comfortable sensation, like slipping into one's favorite pair of old sneakers. Others have less experience with "the great beyond". My character, Mina, only survived the horrors by being a potent wielder of incredible arcane powers....and hiding in the back, like a good mage should. In fact, the bodies of her companions were only recovered because she cashed in on a favor owed to her by a certain celestial being. She knew that dangerous run to the fifth layer of Carceri to rescue a fallen half-celestial paladin would pay off eventually!

Or will it? The other players have decided they're unhappy with their characters, and are thinking of dumping them and starting new ones! But with only Mina to hold things together, the storyline we've been playing through for almost 2 years starts to fall apart rapidly. Which means we'll probably dump the campaign and start a new one. And me with my 13th-level wizard, whom I've nursed from level 1, on the very cusp of becoming an archmage! It's totally unfair! She's such a badass, even if she does only have a Strength of 4...

Breaking a Sweat

2006-08-01T10:20:00.000-07:00

This, like most of my other posts, is more of a journal entry and less of an announcement. Feel free to skip it (as always).

I'm not nearly so self-centered as to require that people understand me. However, when people misunderstand me, and that misunderstanding leads to negativity, or worse, animosity, I feel there is a problem. Well, a series of problems, actually, not the least of which is: I don't know what to do about it.

So I'm writing this here because I have to get this stuff out - to purge the system, I guess. I just can't think of another solution that would be more productive.

I think my yoga teacher doesn't like me. That's fine. I like her well enough. We'd never be best friends or anything, but I think she's an interesting person and a good yoga teacher, and really, that's one more quality than she needs to have for me to be pleased with our relationship. The trouble is, her not liking me has started to manifest itself in passive-aggressive statements directed at me during yoga class. This has the effect of being totally humiliating, and completely derailing my mental practice. The trouble is, actually, the troubles are: 1) I think she's made some mistaken assumptions about my personality/emotional maturity/motivation, and 2) I'm not certain she's aware that she's being passive-aggressive. Allow me to elaborate. (Ha! As if you had a choice!)

Issue 1: I ask a lot of questions. That's not a quality I exhibit only in yoga - I ask a lot of questions, all the time, of everyone, always. I ask questions because I'm naturally curious, and I have a seemingly insatiable hunger for knowledge. I ask for the warmth of knowing. I've also learned through the years that I'm a bit quirky, and I'm frequently not on the same page as everyone else. In fact, I'm lucky if I'm in the same book.... So I also ask to seek affirmation that I'm interpreting things correctly, a reality check, of sorts. In yoga, I ask questions about positions because I could injure myself if I'm doing something incorrectly, and to gain a deeper understanding of the pose and what it should feel like, so I can adjust myself if necessary. I get the distinct impression that my yoga teacher thinks I ask questions for attention, or as a substitute for listening to my body. Clearly, this is not the case.

Issue 2: This leads back into issue 1, but my body is just built to do yoga. My long, lean limbs and limber physique make it easy for me to get into advanced poses - even if once I'm there, I find out that I'm not really ready for them! I'm eager to push myself, but I'm always trying to find that point where strength and flexibility are in balance and a pose is challenging but within today's capabilities. Maybe it's because I'm usually about 20 years younger than the other people in my classes, but I think this comes off as "showy" to my yoga teacher. Not that it should - I can name at least 3 older (than me) women I practice with occassionally who are much stronger, more flexible and more advanced! I can only hope my poses will look like theirs when I'm 45!

Issue 3: My yoga teacher is big on relaxation at the end of a session, and rightly so - it's a vital part of yoga practice. I always enjoyed doing relaxation with my yoga teachers at UNT. However, since I started taking this yoga class in the mornings, I've really struggled with the discipline of relaxation. It took me several weeks (and more than a few disdainful observations) to discover the root of my problem with morning relaxations. It's a two-fold problem:

In the mornings (right before yoga), I take Dexedrine, a stimulant medication, to control my ADHD. It takes about 45 minutes to kick in, and then I can be my normal, rational, fully-thinking self for the rest of the day. It also raises my resting heart rate and causes me to breathe slightly faster than I would without it. Normally, this change is imperceptible. However, during relaxation, I use meditation, progressive muscle relaxation, and breathing techniques to slow down my system (slowing breathing, heart rate, and thoughts, and finding stillness). When I'm on my medication, my heart rate will only go so low, and that totally-rested-and-relaxed speed still feels too fast, because my body knows that something external is elevating my resting heart rate. This situation produces a lot of anxiety, because of my arrhythmia.

After I have a little "heart hiccup", my body dumps about a gallon of adrenaline into my bloodstream and everything goes on Red Alert, (because when your heart does something weird, your body freaks out.) This panicked, overdrive feeling can last for hours and leave me exhausted, emotionally drained, and with low blood sugar. So, to shorten these episodes and regain some mental control, I use relaxation techniques I learned in yoga to slow my heart rate and signal to my body that everything is okay. I've been doing this for years, but it's scary every time. But when I'm doing relaxation in the mornings at yoga class, and my medication has just kicked in, I experience the terrifying sensation of not being able to lower my heart rate. Even though I'm perfectly safe, my reptile brain associates this feeling with the arrhythmia sensation and becomes very distressed. So I don't really like to linger in morning relaxation. I've been working on becoming more comfortable with it now that I understand what's happening, but I think it will take a while to overcome visceral fear. At any rate, my teacher is unaware of all this and seems to just think that I'm uncomfortable turning inward and can't handle stillness.

So, I think it's a combination of all these things that's caused the misunderstanding, and I'm probably as much to blame as she is, for not explaning it.

But then again, is it any of her business? I shouldn't have to bare my soul to get a good workout, and it's not like everyone else is sharing any emotional breakthroughs. In my opinion, if she has concerns about my physical practice (improper alignment or something), she can and should voice them constructively. But the mental and emotional side of my practice is personal, and any opinions she has about me in that regard she should keep to herself. And it's not even like she's trying to be my therapist - some of her comments are just plain mean! I get so irritated with myself for letting it bother me, but the truth is, it totally throws a wrench in my works and creates stress where there should be none.

I do feel a bit better having typed it all out though. I guess screaming into the void against a percieved injustice still feels like fighting back.

Pop! Ohm! Yarrr!

2006-07-18T10:50:00.000-07:00

It's been quite some time since the last update, and I think we're all due for one. I've been putting it off because it's been so long and there's a lot to write about. The only problem with that plan is, well, the longer I put it off, the more there is to cover when I finally get around to it!

For 4th of July we went to El Paso to see the family, like always. It was great, except that I was sick pretty much the whole time. I came down with something terrible about 2 days before we left, and it was just letting up the day before we came back! I learned several things. 1) Don't fly when you're sinuses are full of funk. Your ears won't equalize for days and you'll feel dizzy until they do. And it hurts. 2) When you fly with a head full of funk, and your ears are trying to pop and such but they can't because of the aforementioned funk, it makes a lot of gross, squishy noises in your head, like an octopus trying to suck out your brain. At least, I think the noises are in your head. I hope no one else could hear that!

Anyways, we set of fireworks, which is always cool. There aren't many places where you can set off your own fireworks anymore it seems, so it's a treat every year to play firebug. Since I had a splitting sinus headache for about a full week, I could've done without all the noise, but it only happens once a year so I toughed it out and had a good time anyway. Since I was still pretty dizzy from the plane ride 3 days before, I didn't set off many fireworks myself. (Running away from an impending explosion in the dark across uneven terrain can be tricky, and I didn't want to take any chances). But I did get a lot of great pictures. My camera is so cool....

In other news, it's my 6th week at YogaDenton, and I'm really pleased with the results. That's not really a suprise for me, I mean, I've been practicing yoga pretty regularly for several years now, but I'm always happy when I get serious about it again and see progress. In the past 5 weeks, I've regained some of my flexibility (I've always been pretty limber) and really toned up a lot. As much as I like to stretch, I've been concentrating on building the strength to support my flexibility, and it's paying off. Plus, I have more energy, my back hardly gives me any trouble, and I'm so much more relaxed! Last semester, I was frustrated because I didn't have time to do yoga, and I was so stressed out. But I realized that the times when I'm busy and stressed - that's when I need to do yoga the most! It gives me energy and focus, confidence and calm, and it keeps my body working smoothly. I think I finally realized that I want to make yoga practice part of my lifestyle, not just a hobby. You won't find me up at 4.30 every morning doing sun salutations, but I need to be able to carve 30 minutes or a hour out of my day several times a week, just to keep up with myself.

I've also been introduced to FitYoga magazine, which I can get for free from my yoga studio. It can be a little exsistential in places, but I really like the articles with the asanas (positions). I always have trouble practicing at home because I can't think of stuff to do, but the magazine has lots of different postures and sequences to keep me from getting bored with one routine. Plus, it has TONS of pictures, so I can see what I'm supposed to be doing! Sometimes, doing yoga from written instructions is like playing Twister, so the pictures help a lot.

So, what have I been doing with my newfound serenity? Balancing it out with piracy, of course! Sid Meier's Pirates! (the ! is part of the title) decended into the magical $20 range, at which point there was no reason not to buy it. In fact, if you don't own this game already, you're out of excuses! It's a really great, totally fun game, and it's well worth your $20. There are several time periods to play in, four nationalities to choose from (Spanish, English, French and Dutch), lots of ship types, and a really cool-looking map-interface. If you like sims, you'll love it. If you don't really like sims but you like pirates, you'll love it. If you don't like sims or pirates, there's something wrong with you - seek help immediately.

I've also been playing Yohoho! Puzzle Pirates, a free multiplayer online puzzle game. If you like puzzle games, check out the 1 month free trial. I buckled and paid the subscription fee (which isn't bad), so if you're ever on, send me a /tell! I'm "Scuttle".

So, it's pretty much been pirate-overload here, but I'm having fun and even doing my online classes occassionally! Can't ask for more than that!

She ate my pants!

2006-06-22T11:55:00.000-07:00

As an animal lover who is training to be a psychologist, I know a bit about animal-assisted therapy. I know that pet ownership has a lot of physical and psychological benefits, such as lowering blood pressure, for example.

After extensive empirical study, I have come to the conclusion that CATS lower blood pressure. Dogs, or at least puppies, do not in any way lower one's blood pressure. They in fact turn peaceful, animal-loving, vegetarian yoga practitioners into raving, homicidal maniacs, thirsty for blood. I told a friend earlier that I'm ready to strangle this animal with the shredded remains of my sanity.

Aunt Rhonda, I no longer feel bad about taking your money.

The Dog Days of Summer

2006-06-21T08:59:00.000-07:00

As you may or may not have noticed, today is in fact, June 21st, the first official day of summer and the longest "day" of the year. And as it happens, I have just the thing for the occassion....

Meet Juliet. Oh, but fear not, gentle reader, this cocker spaniel puppy that looks for all the world like a black lab is not a new addition to my household. I am merely "puppysitting" for a week while my aunt and her family are on a cruise.

I have never before had a dog. Sure, when I was a kid we "had dogs", but they were always outside and I never had to feed them or anything. They were more like mobile garden gnomes. Also, I've never considered myself to be a "dog person". There are a lot of things I don't like about dogs. They slobber. They get in your face. They eat poop (and then get in your face). All this and more made me a confirmed "cat person".

Then, I met a precious few well-trained dogs, and I realized that "dog" does not equal "slobbery, barking, hyper, jumping-up monster that pees on the floor constantly and walks around with its nose in your crotch". I became intrigued with the idea of having an animal that was trainable, and would do tricks and come when called. (My cats usually come when called, but sometimes they just sit and stare at me like I've clearly gone insane.) Having a puppy for a week seemed like an excellent way to test-drive the dog ownership idea.

I've learned so much, and I've only had her for a few days. One, dogs are a lot of work. Not an unreasonable amount of work, but they're not cats. Also, I would never want to have my own dog without also having a yard. Since this puppy is not completely housetrained, if I need to go somewhere, I either have to take her with me or put her in her crate. I hate leaving her in the crate during the day, so I usually just take her with me, but there are some places she can't go (like, yoga class, for example). It'd be much easier if I could stick her in the backyard and feel confident that she's enjoying her little doggie self and not leaving a mess on my rug.

Also, cocker spaniels are not the brightest breed of dogs. And Juliet is not the brightest cocker I've encountered... She's incredibly friendly and would be worthless as a guard dog. She loves everyone, all the time. But, well.... I have french doors leading out onto my balcony. I put her out on my balcony for a second so one of my cats could make a dash to the safety of the "no dog zone". When the cat was secure, I opened the door to let Juliet back in. But since she could still see me through the glass, she was totally confused and just kept pawing at the glass on the (open) door. I had to actually step outside and get her to follow me through the doorway into the house. Einstein, she is not.

I've also dicovered that Juliet is a very inconvenient name for a dog. I end up calling her "puppy" most of the time. Interestingly, she has a schedule, sort of. I let her out of the crate in the mornings and we usually make it outside before having a bathroom accident. When she comes back inside, she's hungry and hyper. She eats some breakfast and then runs around like she's on fire for about an hour and a half. Since a dog's mouth is like it's hands, she likes to bite things a lot. I also think she's in the puppy "chewing stage". I don't like to be bitten, but telling her not to bite is like telling me not to breathe. So I try to redirect the biting to something appropriate, like a toy. This has been largely successful, and I'm always suprised at how well it works. She entertains herself, mostly by running around and chewing on things. Then it's another bathroom trip, after which she naps off and on for the rest of the day! She gets up and follows me around the house (I can't leave a room without her coming with me), and she'll wake up and chew on more things sometimes, but mostly she just sleeps until mid-afternoon. When Max gets home from work, she gets very excited again. In the evenings, we like to take her to the doggie play area in our apartment complex, where she can run around without a leash and be a WonderMutt. Then it's puppy bedtime and the cycle starts all over again.

My cats are terrified of her. She's pretty scared of them, too. But slowly, some of them have started to investigate. Odin, our big orange cat (he's my profile picture) is also the head honcho, and he's made several expeditions. He usually waits until she's asleep and then sneaks up on her to do some recon. Yesterday, he got close enough to touch her head with his nose. She was asleep, of course. Even after she woke up, though, he didn't rush back into the "no dog zone". He just sat there, sizing her up silently. It's very difficult for Juliet not to run up to him and sniff all over him, but she reads his body language I guess and just lays down, figeting and trying to inch closer without getting too close. This "showdown at the OK Corral" has happened several times. Maybe they'll be friends by the end of the week, but I'll be happy if I can just get my cats to forgive me! I'm pretty sure Dante and Cleo have voted me off the island.

A con called A-Kon

2006-06-13T08:41:00.000-07:00

A while back, I referred to Scarborough Faire as a "human zoo". If Scarborough is a zoo, then A-Kon is a circus!

A-Kon is a very, very large (mostly) anime convention held annually in Dallas, TX. As you may or may not know, I am not particularly fond of anime. My general response to it is the same as my response to pretty much all other things TV - "Meh". It's okay. Some of it looks cool. I've just never been sucked into a series like some people have. Adding to my aversion is the group of anime fankids, some of whom actually call themselves "otaku" (a very negative word!) in a misguided effort to embrace all things Japanese. I can rant about the otaku thing later. My main beef with these fankids is that they watch a lot of anime and therefore believe that they know a lot about Japanese culture. In my opinion, this is similar to a Japanese person watching a lot of "Looney Tunes" and assuming they are now an American cultural expert. The whole idea is preposterous.

Now, for all these reasons, I had never been to A-Kon before this year. A friend needed some help running a Hobbytown USA booth at the convention, and offered to pay me a meager hourly wage for my trouble. Being an unemployed graduate student, I leapt at the opportunity to earn a few extra buck$. Thus began my descent into madness...

Everything I Ever Needed To Know I Learned At A-Kon:

1. Tolerance. If you try to force your views on others, they might try to force their views on you. Just let that guy wear his gold sequined speedo, and be glad you don't have to wear one, too:

(Notice Jesus in the background there?)

2. David Bowie was really awesome in "The Labyrinth":

3. Never forget the people who made you who you are. Even international celebrity plumbers still have time for their fans:

4. Everyone likes to play dress-up sometimes, even old guys:

5. When you actually face bullies, you often find they're not so scary after all. Believe it or not, Darth Vader's really only 4'2:

6. Sometimes, a man just wants to be a chokobo:

Luckily for you, I didn't photograph any men dressed as women, women who should've dressed, or furries. Believe me, they were all there. VG Cats has a great comic about it. To quote Scott, in places, it was "a sea of shame and pity". There were plenty of "Sailor Beefcake"s, and I do pity the thin nylon that was no doubt permanently damaged by "desperately trying to hold back a tsunami of flesh".

Also lucky for you, I cannot easily convey to you the sheer volume of pure, distilled nerddom I experienced. Being quite the nerd myself, I admit I was utterly unprepared for a dork barrage of that scale. My weirdo meter stayed pegged the whole weekend.

Hey, do you know what "yaoi" is? I didn't. It's, get this, male homosexual anime porn. And there's a HUGE market for it, apparently. Suprisingly, more people buy yaoi than yuri, which is the girl-on-girl anime porn. Now, to me, the words "cartoon" and "porn" don't mix, but if I were to temporarily allow that idea into my universe, I would assume the lesbian stuff would be more popular than the gay guy stuff. And I would be very wrong. Oh, and let's not forget "hentai", which is just plain ol' normal anime porn, if there is such a thing. I think at least 90% of the DVD retailers at A-Kon carried some variety of hentai/yaoi/yuri, along with their selection of "regular" anime stuff. I was truly shocked. I guess you can't exactly buy that stuff off Amazon.com...

All that aside, I actually had a good time. I wouldn't have paid to get in, but the experience was worth having. I enjoyed just sitting at the booth (behind the safety of the table!) and watching the freak-show go by. Some of these people are really creative, and clearly spent a lot of time on their elaborate costumes. Also, almost all the people I encountered were polite, if a bit weird. There's always the occassional sick-o, and somehow they always find me, but that's definately not a phenomenon that's specific to A-Kon.

AND... I got stuff! A beautiful pair of hairsticks that I just love:

...and a Yoshi plushie, which is the cutest thing ever:

'Twas brilling, and the slithy toves

2006-06-04T12:28:00.000-07:00

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe...

Soooo, for my birthday, I got a lot of really cool stuff, but the item that will no doubt have the greatest impact on you, dear reader(s?) is my new digital camera! But not just any digital camera, I got a Canon PowerShot A540! It's super-cool. I won't bore you with all the details of its spiffiness, and why it's so cool. Just be content in the knowlege that it is in fact awesome, and that my very specific birthday request with detailed instructions were followed by my parents to the letter. *Sniff!* It makes me proud to know I raised them so well!

Also, my friend Olivia, who is a graphic art guru and all-around web expert, taught me some cool new tricks to use in conjunction with my photos! Now, I can do stuff like this: Meet Dante!

Pretty cool, huh? No more pictures stuck up at the top of the blog where they don't make sense!

I also got Paper Mario, a really cool game for the Pink Cube of Power. If you've never played this game, you should check it out. Everything in the game looks like paper cut-outs, but 3D at the same time....um, it's really not something that can be easily described - you just have to see it for yourself. This guy, Hooktail, looks really cool in the game:

I also got to go to the salon and do girly stuff. And Max's family gave me some very nice kitchen equipment, which I really wanted, a blender and a digital kitchen scale. My friends were puzzled, but I was stoked. What can I say? I like to cook!

For my birthday, some friends and I met at the Flying Saucer in Addison for expensive snobby beer (my favorite kind!). It was great! I drank some great beer, saw some great friends, and got to fill up my social meter without traumatizing the introvert in my life!

That's it for now. I'll finish what I started before I go, though:

Jabberwocky, by Lewis Carroll

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, and the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tugley wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He came galumphing back.

"And has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brilling, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

All Things Bright and Beautiful

2006-05-22T12:13:00.000-07:00

Perhaps I have not mentioned my secret passion before now in this external monologue. It is a fancy I've cultivated slowly, quietly - but in private corners my mind is ablaze with the brilliance of precious gems.

They captivate me. Embarassingly, it is a predictable and stereotypically feminine (and vain) thing to be in the thrall of what are essentially shiny rocks. But I can't help myself! I simply cannot learn enough about them - their formation, chemical composition, crystalline structure, history, origin, varieties, cuts, evaluation of their value, the various treatments they may be subjected to, their synthetic impostors, everything.

I'm not kidding. I would seriously consider becoming a graduate gemologist as an alternate career path. So serious, in fact, that I've familiarized myself with the requirements for earning the appropriate certifications.

Unfortunately, gem connisseurship is an expensive and exclusive habit. Once again, my champagne tastes and my Mac-and-Cheese budget are in stark opposition. But that doesn't stop me from looking, now, does it?

Predictably, I was immediately attracted to two of the rarest, most expensive gems on the market - Alexandrite and Tanzanite. Both are relatively recent discoveries.

Alexandrite was discovered in the Ural Mountains of Russia in 1834 and is named after the czar Alexander II. It is notable in that it changes color based on the type of light it is exposed to. In daylight, it is green, but in incandescent light, it turns red or purplish-red. Excellent Alexandrites are "emeralds by day, rubies by night"! That picture at the top is of ONE Alexandrite, under different lighting conditions. Of course, I desperately want one. I could buy a car for the cost of an "okay" unset Alexandrite under 2 carats.

Tanzanite, named after its country of origin, Tanzania, was discovered only in 1967. It's amazing color could be described as a rich, deep sapphire blue with an incandescent purple cast. Really, you should just go look at it - it's incredible. It's also incredibly expensive.

I'm just completely amazed that this stuff comes out of the ground. I can't quite get my brain around that.

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

2006-05-19T08:44:00.000-07:00

So, now that the semester is over and I can actually relax a bit, I got the urge to play some piano. But sheet music is kinda like clothing - it's always more fun to learn something new than to re-do a song you've played a million times. So I got a wild hair and downloaded the "Cheers" theme song. It's suprisingly easy to play, which is quite satisfying. Even with my rusty and much-neglected piano skills, it's almost smooth, and I just got it yesterday. The drawback is, playing it makes me want to drink beer.

I also got a call from the "Make a Wish" foundation this morning. I totally hate that. I mean, I'm unemployed. I have NO MONEY. Yes, I feel terrible that these children are terminally ill, and won't live to see Christmas, and I'm a heartless jerkface for not helping make their dreams become a reality while they're still here. I'd help if I had money! I know these people are just doing their jobs, but if I know I can't afford to donate, and I ask them not to send me an information packet, that's actually saving money for their corporation! I could just be a dweeb and tell them to send me the stuff and promptly toss it in the trash - I'm sure that's not uncommon. But then they're wasting valuable dollars on printing and shipping and such. Send that stuff to people who can actually help. But please, leave me alone about it!...No! I told you, I don't have fifteen bucks! Go away! Sheesh!

I also got a hankering to watch "The Ultimate Showdown (of Ultimate Destiny)" again this morning. It's a little flash animation with a decent song to it. If you haven't seen it, you must have been living under a rock for the past year. It's crammed full of pop-culture references (from the 80s, 90s and today!) and is worth two or three minutes of your time. Watching that got me interested in the band who wrote the song, one Lemon Demon. I checked out their site, and they seem to be a lot like They Might Be Giants, but of course, not as famous. I looked through their stuff, and listened to a lot of it, but the only other song they've made (that I've found) that I really think is worth a listen is "Word Disassociation", which is quite creative. Their other stuff is okay, but is sadly lacking the innovation, cleverness, and musical sophistication of the other two pieces. Making good music, even good "joke" music, is hard, and I have a great deal of respect for people who can just create enjoyable stuff. I certainly can't.

Which brings me to a point about creativity and composition. I think the creation of art, either composing music or drawing/painting/sculpting etc., is fundamentally different than the performing of it. This really works better with music, because the person who writes the music doesn't have to be able to sing it, but graphic artists really have to do double-duty here. Allow me to explain. All these things can be taught - drawing, singing, composing music, everything. But it takes a special something, something innate, to do it well. I guess that's what we call "talent". It can't be learned. It is possible for me to learn to draw. But in the learning, I've already missed something. Some people just draw innately, they can't contain it. Doodles spill out of their hands, onto napkins, scraps of paper, exposed skin, everywhere. They don't have to sit down and say to themselves "Okay, now I'm going to draw." It just happens. They can take lessons, and learn different techniques and styles to hone their craft, but they have an inner sense of art, an unspoken understanding of it that makes them by default a better artist than I could ever learn to be.

The same is true with musical composition. I've observed this phenomenon in my father. He creates music, all the time. Songs just pour out of him, like he's merely some vessel or conduit, tapped into a universal creative artery. Of course, it's his talent, his experience, his style and preferences that are expressed - he's not just a medium. But it seems like he simply has music in his head, and he has to get it out to make room for even more music that is constantly bubbling up inside him. Not all of it's great, mind you. But I guess he produces such a volume of it that, statistically, some of it is bound to be good. I firmly believe that my father would create music anywhere, under any circumstances, in any time period - he wouldn't have a choice. On the other hand, when I sit down to write music, it is a slow, painful, stilted process. Now, I'm an innate singer, no one taught me that. And I've spent many, many years of my life studying all kinds of music, learning music theory, and performing in hundreds of different styles. Academically, I probably know more about music than my dad does. On paper, it looks like I should be a better composer. But I'm not. I just don't have the spark.

Not that I mind, really. Composing music is difficult for me, so I don't enjoy it. So I don't do it, so I don't develop experience and confidence in doing it, so I never become better. And perhaps that's what makes the difference in the end. We are all drawn most strongly to the creative outlet that fits us best. I like to sing. Some people like to paint. Other people like to make up crazy songs about sea anenomes. Different strokes for different folks (and so on, and so forth, and doobie, doobie, doobie...)

Bottom line: Find what makes you happy and do it. If you like Lego, or cooking, or designing modifications for the Starship Enterprise, that's no less noble than any other creative hobby. I'm not singing a lot of masterpieces over here. It's whatever's rolling around in my head, be it "Ave Maria" or "Found a Peanut". Just go do something, because I'm done with the post!

Trendy

2006-05-16T12:04:00.000-07:00

Well, it's the new fad now to be on about Net Neutrality. Really, that's downplaying it somewhat. I was reading up on it (at savetheinternet.com, which I linked to from PvP, a very funny comic put out by fellow UNT alum Scott Kurtz), and it seems like a pretty important thing. For the lazy ones (you know who you are) the short version is this:

Last year, a law was passed that allowed cable and phone companies to do away with previous legislation that forced them to keep their networks open to competitors. This gave them (your ISP) the power to do away with net neutrality, too. The only thing right now that is keeping your internet performing like it always has is a temporary ruling from the FCC.

The net neutrality movement is an effort to make that temporary FCC ruling a law. If the proposed legislation to protect net neutrality doesn't pass, the temporary FCC ruling will expire. At that point, your ISP will have the legal right, and certainly the financial incentive, to regulate your web content. From the ISPs' perspective, it's brilliant. All websites will be rank-ordered. Websites they own, as well as websites which pay them "access fees" will be given preferential treatment - mostly in the form of faster load times. Not that your internet will get any faster, just that 'non-preferred' sites will be artificially made slower. Some 'non-preferred' sites may not be accessible at all. For example, if SBC wants to promote Yahoo! (a website they own) over Google (a website they don't own), and your ISP is an SBC subsidiary, it may become, ah, inconvenient for you to get to Google. Of course, Yahoo! will always be right there, ready to help with your searching needs. The only trouble is, Yahoo! is a completely inferior search engine. Getting to places like this blog may become completely impossible. If Blogger starts asking me to pay a fee to use their service, so that they can pay "access fees" to various ISPs to avoid 'non-preferential' treatment, I may just have to buy a typewriter or something. Learn skywriting, maybe? Who knows.

Anyway, while I'm usually in favor of a more "laissez-faire" style government when it comes to art, religion and the internet, what we're talking about here is regulation for non-regulation. And that's something I can get behind. Or in front of. Whatever. If you, too want to do something that is free, painless, and will at least make you feel better about yourself, go to that save the internet site I linked to up there and sign the petition. It's a little form, it'll take you about 30 seconds. You can click the "spam-free" option, too, which is always nice. It automatically generates a letter to your senators (based on your ZIP code), letting them know you support net neutrality. You can also edit the letter, which is also a good thing. That way, you know what you're signing your name to. I embellished mine a bit. It was fun!

While you are there, I encourage you to watch the "Ask a Ninja" movie on the subject. It's a bit odd, as you might expect, but they mention something about access to certain websites being blocked by "a wall made out of the shredded remains of the first amendment..." I liked it. It's also pretty funny, and talks about the tri-colored hats worn by Hotdog on a Stick employees. Tee-hee, those are some funny hats!

If your name is Sarah, you should nag your husband into writing a little something on this topic for the newspaper, as he is a journalist. If your name is Phil, you should write a little something on this topic for the newspaper. After all, you're a journalist. This is what you do, right? We can't let the man keep us down!

In other news, I went to Scarborough Faire this weekend with some friends. It was fun. It was hot. It was a lesson in capitalism. They charge you $20 to get in (my friend graciously bought my ticket, which was very cool), and then they skin you for food and drink. Essentially, the people who run the fair pay minimum wage to a skeleton staff (who must provide their own costumes). Then, they charge vendors to rent booth space. Performers don't have to pay, but they're not getting paid, either. That's why the performers beg for donations at the end of every show. The people running the fair make a mint off of entry fees, vendor's rent, and food and drink sales. Beer is $4. FOUR DOLLARS!!! And we're not talking about good beer, here, this is what they charge for Butt Lite and Michelob Ultra-Nasty. It's a genius enterprise.

At any rate, I had a good time. I saw some people wearing really cool costumes. I also saw some people who shouldn't have been wearing their really cool costumes... I swear some of those corsets must've been reinforced with titanium. Excuse me while I climb up on my soapbox...

Okay. If, after donning your corset, your cleavage oozes up and slightly out over the top of the fabric, much like the crown of well-made muffins or cupcakes, this is a bad thing. It's bad for many reasons. My friends and I have coined the phrase "dunlap" syndrome to describe this, similar to when one's belly protrudes over one's belt, but this happens a bit higher up. It's not sexy. Also, corsets and the costumes that accompany them are expensive. If you've just spent several hundred dollars on an elaborate period costume, you want people to admire it. But if you've got "dunlap" boobs, no one is looking at your costume. They're looking at your boobs. And they're not thinking nice things. Do yourself a favor and buy something that fits you. Or maybe consider losing some of that 400 lbs you've got hanging around.

Also, women of all shapes, sizes, and levels of costume-appropriateness seemed to be fond of sticking smallish items in the bustline of their corsets. Usually, this is a small flower or dagger (for the more dangerous ones) strategically nestled where it may draw attention. That's fine. However, the choice of item is important. Food is usually not a good idea. Nobody wants to see that hot dog you're saving for later stuffed down your shirt. Things that accentuate "saggage", such as a playing card placed sideways between one's copious bosoms, are less than enchanting. Finally, it is not a shelf. Wearing a corset does not suddenly turn them into "cargo boobs". Pick ONE item. Just one. Not ten. It is not a utility belt.

And, before I leave the soapbox, a word about tails. They're freaky. If you are wearing a tail because you are a furry, or because you believe you are partly a woodland creature, you're already freaky and you deserve the social ostracization you will no doubt recieve. If you are wearing a tail because you think it's "cute", let me explain. There is NOTHING cute about wearing the butt of a dead fox or raccoon tied around your waist or snapped onto the back of your pants. The words "animal cruelty" spring to mind. Besides, people might think you're a furry...

Okay, soapbox time is over. I had lots of fun, I got my hair braided, I toured what could be referred to as a human zoo. It's not a bad way to spend a Saturday!

...it's ALIIIVE!!

2006-05-10T10:16:00.000-07:00

As you can tell from my last couple of posts, I've been living and breathing my thesis project for a while now. It's what's going on in my life, so it's what I write about. I know it's probably much more facinating to me than it is to everyone else on the planet. Tough cookies. I'm stoked because I finally feel like my thesis is coming together. I can't really claim credit for it, though; it seems like I just got lucky. I blindly stumbled upon some literature, that led to some other literature, that led to some other literature...anyway, I found some helpful stuff. I finished my thesis proposal (I got an A minus for not having proposed statistics), which of course isn't really finished, but it's a start. I am privately pleased that I got to use "obfuscate" in my paper. I gave myself super word-nerd points for that! Glee!

I was also having some trouble with my instrument. There are two instruments that are very similar. One is expensive. One is free. Guess which one I like best? Anyway, I was having a hard time determining if the free instrument, the IPIP, would be appropriate for my study. I won't bore you with the details here, but I emailed "the IPIP guy", who put me in touch with "the IPIP consultant guy", a Dr. John Johnson (no joke) from Penn State. Dr. Johnson was "tickled" about my project and wants me to keep him informed on it. He seemed pretty excited about the whole idea. Even better, though, was that he sent me A TON of information on the IPIP, info I really needed and, now that I have it, will make my project much easier. So, yay.

Now my next step is to find some computer science slave labor. If you happen to know of anyone who is willing to do a bit of work to support gamer research, and they're handy with the international cyberweb, please send them my way!

On a completely different note, the pumpkins I planted a while back are beginning to overrun my balcony. They've spilled over the sides of the planter. Some have climbed up the railing and are waving jocundly at passers-by. They have completely engulfed the ornamental dragonfly garden-stake. It may be months before I see his cheerful metal form again. A few days ago, the pumpkins started producing flowers, which is very good. Pumpkin flowers look sort of like hibiscus, but the blooms only last one day and they're bright orange. Pumpkin orange, you might say. Anyway, it's cool. My strawberries aren't faring so well, but, you can't win 'em all. I'll be pretty impressed if I manage to produce pumpkins this year, so the strawberries are just bonus.

Well, now I must extricate myself from the company of my long-time associate, Procrastination. I have a Japanese final tomorrow at 10.30, so my studying must begin in earnest.

Unfinished

2006-05-04T15:27:00.000-07:00

Wow, it's been almost a month since my last post. Have you ever sat down to work on something, and then when you look up, it's like, 3 weeks later? It's been like that.

So much has happened, and there's so much I've wanted to write about but haven't had the time, I'm not sure where to begin. I suppose I should start with filling in on events.

Since last post:

I have had an epiphany about my thesis. Guess what? I'm not supposed to already know how to do this. It's not like I just missed that day in high school English or something, or that I learned it for a test and then promptly forgot. These people have asked me to do something, and they do not expect me to already know how to do it. In fact, they know I don't know. They are giddy with anticipation of my mistakes. Not (necessarily) so they can ridicule me, but because writing a thesis is a process. That's been like a mantra - "It's a process." I kept repeating it, but I didn't truly understand it until recently.

I cannot express to you the magnitude of this revelation. It seems like a small thing, but it really isn't. It was an "Ohhhh, stars above...!" moment (thank you Kung-Pow:Enter the Fist).
At any rate, I am experiencing considerably less anxiety about my thesis. Mind you, that still leaves a whole lot of anxiety, but by comparison, the amount has been drastically reduced.

I also felt a bit like an idiot for spending the last 20 years of my life in school and not catching onto that concept a little more quickly. Really, I learn neuroscience. You'd think I'd be able to grasp this "process" thing.

I have also determined that the GRE is absolutely useless and misleading as an assessment/preparation tool for graduate school. You know what they should do? They should tell people to study for the GRE, and then give them a stress-management test. If you fail the stress management test, they should pat you on the back and reccommend an alternate career path. It'd be simpler, healthier, and cheaper all around.

That's the other thing I realized; getting a bachelor's degree does not in any way prepare you for grad school. I would have been more prepared for grad school if I'd taken a few years off, gotten married, maybe had some kids. Grad school is about learning from life. It's coming up with solutions to problems that don't have any "right" answers. It's like, at first, in kindergarten, they use life to teach you about academics ("If I have 3 apples, and you have 2 apples, how many apples do we have? See, that's math!") Later on in one's educational career, the focus shifts increasingly towards academics, until by college, you're learning academic stuff just for the sake of academics. (Do I really need to know what "proximodistal development" is? Will it impact my day-to-day living? Of course not. But, as an aside, proximodistal development is developing from the inside-out, like a fetus. Torso first, arms and legs later. Now, don't you feel enlightened?) Then, in graduate school, they pull a complete 180 on you. Now, they want you to use academics to learn about life. There's the familiar information regurgitation, but that's not what you're learning. You already know that crap. You are learning how to think about the whys and hows that don't have set answers. And you're learning to do it in a pressure cooker.

Also, my aunt died. That was a bit of a shocker. I'm not really ready to write about this yet, because I am by necessity too focused on the fact that I missed a whole week right at the end of the semester. It really couldn't have happened at a worse time. I know that sounds callous, but really it isn't. I'm grieving, I'm processing, but I also have to get through this last week of school, or it may as well have been me in that casket. The point of life is to live it, and I'm living with some looming deadlines at the moment. More looming, it would seem, than that final deadline.

But what happened to my Aunt Susie, that she should die so unexpectedly, and at such a young age (only 59)? She had some health problems, sure, but nobody was thinking she'd just drop off like that. Apparently, she'd had a few nasty falls that, unbeknownst to anyone, were causing bleeding in her brain. This bleeding seems to have been going on for some time. Then, one Thursday evening in late April, she was standing in her living room, talking with her husband (about a bill, of all things), and she just kind of went rigid and fell over. In my mind, it was like in the cartoons, with someone yelling "Tim-ber!" in the background. Doctors speculate that she was more or less brain-dead before she hit the floor. She was completely unresponsive (no reflexes, etc.), but still breathing on her own at this point. She was Care-Flighted to a trauma hospital in Houston, the family was called, the process was started.

My mother called and told me first, but she was on a cell phone in a car, so I couldn't quite catch everything. I called my youngest aunt, Rhonda, for more details. This was around 9.30pm. I talked to my aunt for quite some time, my father called, everyone was trying to figure out what was going on. Is it serious? Is she going to be okay? Was it an overdose? These were the types of questions we were asking. Later that evening, my Aunt Rhonda called me crying, (she always takes charge first and gets emotional when there's no more to be busy with) she was alone (Uncle Jesse works nights) and just wanted to talk. We talked for a bit, and decided I should come down, to help her the next day. She was planning to leave for Houston the next afternoon, but there was a lot a preparation she needed to do, and I could help with that. So I got in my car at 11pm on Thursday night and drove to Austin in torrential rain. I had one change of clothes, a bedroll, and a toothbrush.
I slept for three hours on the couch, and got up at 7 when my cousins, Andre and Tessa got up for school. Throughout the morning, it became increasingly clear that my Aunt Susie was not going to make it. She was being kept alive on life support basically so that family who wanted to see her "one last time" could get to Houston. Rather than drive back to Denton and then turn around a day later and drive to Houston for the inevitable funeral, I decided to travel down to Houston with Aunt Rhonda and her family. I mean, I was already halfway there, anyway. I borrowed some tshirts from Tessa (who is 8) and bought a pack of skivvies.
Friday afternoon, my Aunt Susie was taken off life support, and died shortly thereafter. I did not witness this. There was some confusion about the necessity of an autopsy, since the death was technically injury-related. This delayed the funeral planning. Family descended upon Kay (Susie's daughter)'s house. Fortunately, Kay has a beautiful and spacious home.

For a few days, some people went back and forth between Kay's and Aunt Susie's house, sorting through things. My Aunt Rhonda found a birthday card, stamped, sealed, and addressed to her. (Her birthday is April 27th.) On it was a post-it note that read, in Aunt Susie's handwriting, "Mail Monday."

A visitation-type thing was held on Monday, where the body could be viewed briefly. This was against my late aunt's wishes, but some family members requested it for closure purposes. I went to the "early showing", mostly out of morbid curiousity (literally!). It was my first viewing of a dead body. It freaked me out. It was strongly reminiscent of my visit to Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum in London. I was struck by her hands - her nails were painted (I assume to cover up any discoloration), but I don't recall her nails ever being painted before. Certainly not that color. Also, she wasn't wearing any rings! Aunt Susie always wore lots of these ridiculous, huge rings - usually 2 or 3 per hand. It was quite strange and not-Aunt-Susie-like to see her without them. And she was wearing too much makeup, but I hear that's common for these occassions. She was wearing an outfit she'd bought earlier in the week, but never gotten a chance to wear. It was cute on her. Her hair looked great.

I have not yet decided whether dead-body viewing is a requirement for my grieving process. All I can say about it really is that it was strange. I did not cry, but my sister Rachel bawled on my shoulder out on the front porch of the funeral home for half an hour. Then they closed the casket, and the regular visitation began.

The funeral was held on Tuesday at 10Am. I cried during the service, but not at the gravesite. There is so much talent in my family, and it was showcased on this occassion. Aunt Susie's children (Kay and Todd), and 3 of her grandchildren read anectdotes, stories, and thoughts that they had written for the occassion. It was quite touching. Other cousins, the brother-sister musical duo Jen and Eric, sang. Todd (an artist) and others compiled a multi-media presentation - picutres, music, and love notes Aunt Susie had written to my Uncle Bob. The whole thing was pretty amazing.

Later, I went to my Aunt Susie's house, to help move some stuff. She had written a little love note to my uncle in lipstick on the bathroom mirror. It was still there.

What Lies Beneath

2006-04-10T11:53:00.000-07:00

I am so stressed right now, words are failing me. I all honesty, I have reached "panic stage" about my thesis. I'm just not getting anywhere on it. I don't even know where to start working on it! In fact, I shouldn't even be blogging right now. You know why I'm blogging? That's right, avoidance! I'm currently modeling that time-honored and always-productive "head in the sand" technique.

The fact is, I woke up in a panic (about the thesis) and have been operating in a state of low-level panic attack all day. My heart is racing, I can't focus, I'm anxious. I've got that adrenaline-surge thing going on. What my body doesn't realize is that this fight-or-flight response is NOT helping me right now. Oh, if only my thesis were a large, physical demon that I could beat upon with my tiny fists! Because, let me tell you, I'm ready for THAT. Or running. I could definately run away from something large and scary right now. But running around my apartment and shadowboxing isn't what I need to be doing, and more's the pity. I'm so jittery, I can't think straight, which just makes me MORE anxious, which keeps me from working on my project, which makes the whole thing worse! AUGH!

I always knowingly lied to myself that I was not affected by the hereditary anxiety in my family. However, I do (or did) believe that I can handle my anxiety, when it rears its ugly head. Now I'm beginning to wonder. The last thing I want is to turn into a neurotic basketcase who maintains a thin veneer of normalcy by living in a constant state of denial. Believe me when I tell you I have ready access to the world's best mentor for walking such a path. When nature and nurture join forces, can I hope to stand against them, armed with nothing but a strong will (or perhaps it's a dire fear)? For the sake of my sanity, I have to believe the answer is yes.

But am I lying to myself in that? Where is the truth in all this? Perhaps there is no truth. Perhaps I'm coming back to my initial enlightenment - with a new caveat: Only I get to decide who I will be when I grow up.

Ah! It's an evolution in thought!
Enlightenment 1: I get to decide who I will be when I grow up. - Freedom
Enlightenment 2: Only I get to decide who I will be when I grow up. - Responsibility

I suppose time will tell if I manage to struggle through my anxiety about my anxiety.

Wow, that was some full disclosure, there. This post took a couple turns I wasn't quite expecting, but I guess it's good to get it all out. Now that you know how crazy I really am, here's a quote I read the other day that I really like:

"The difference between perserverance and obstinacy is that one often comes from a strong will, and the other from a strong won't." ~ Henry Ward Beecher

Which one am I, perserverance or obstinacy? Maybe I'm both, at times. I suppose that's fine, as long as I'm not "neither".

Is this making any sense? Sometimes is very hard for me to tell if I'm adequately translating what goes on in my head into a format that is accessible to others. Occasionally I wish I could just plug people directly into my brain. It might cause more confusion, but at least there wouldn't be any communication errors!

You Are What You Eat

2006-04-09T20:16:00.000-07:00

Today, I went to a farm and bought eggs. I'm talking about a real, honest to goodness farm. With goats (and apparently chickens). It was a neat experience, and one I'm likely to repeat. Those eggs are gooood! The yolks are almost orange. It's amazing!

It all started with an accidental trip to a strange website. I'm not sure how I got to themeatrix.com, only that I was there. I watched both movies. I learned a lot. Then, I started asking some questions. Questions like "Where does my food come from?" and "If the animals who make my eggs and dairy aren't healthy, how healthy can my eggs and dairy be? What exactly is in my food?" For some people, another appropriate question would be "If the animal I'm currently eating wasn't healthy, why am I eating it?" Clearly, the animal you're eating is no longer healthy, but I think it's reasonable, perhaps even prudent to expect that it was healthy at some point.

The Meatrix is part of a larger site called Sustainable Table. The thing I like best about Sustainable Table is that it is NOT some tree-hugging hippie "meat is murder" site. It's not even really about animal cruelty (although that does factor in. Think about it. Cruelty=unhealthy animals=unhealthy animal products. It's not a huge leap of logic, that.) Sustainable Table is about economics, environmental awareness, and human health. The basic idea behind it is that factory farms are bad because they place unreasonable demands on the local environment (have you ever driven past a dairy?) and produce unhealthy conditions for the animals (which produces unhealthy animals, which creates a need to constantly medicate said animals to control disease - disease and medications that make their way into our food.) Also, because of the logistical problems of having, say, 1,000 cows on a couple of acres of land, it actually costs more to produce food this way.

Now, a lot of people in these circles oppose GMOs - genetically modified organisms. I think that's a bit paranoid. GMOs have great potential, in my opinion. It's not Frankenfood, it's progress as far as I'm concerned. I also don't think that drinking factory farmed milk, and eating factory farmed eggs and meat will kill a person. (Sustainable Table doesn't think that either, by the way.) However, it makes good sense to me that animals that are allowed to eat thier natural diet, and engage in natural behaviours (like, say, walking) will tend to be healthier. It also stands to reason that healthier animals means healthier meat/dairy/eggs. Healthier meat/dairy/eggs may mean a healthier me. Or maybe it just tastes better. Either way, I'm happy.

Maybe it's time for us to reconnect with our food. We scrutinize the labels on just about everything we eat, but we don't think twice about the chicken we had for dinner last night, and well, maybe we should.

(By the way, you should really watch The Meatrix movies, even if you think this whole post is a pile of BS. They're quite funny, actually. How can you say no to a trenchcoat-wearing cow named "Moopheus"?!? Or a pig called "Mr. Hamderson"?!? Classic!)

I'm in!

2006-03-27T10:13:00.000-08:00

It's done. I registered for the 3-day and did my first training session this morning. I think the walking part won't be a big deal. There's a sample 24-week training program (I have 28 weeks) that assumes you can walk 3 miles at 3 mph without difficulty. So I went and did that for an hour just to be sure, and it was a piece of cake. Hooray for my iPod because, whew, let me tell you, the intellectual stimulation of walking on a treadmill for an hour is astonishingly low. But if I can stave off the boredom beast, I think I'll be set. Now all I need to do is raise $2200.

Yes, that's right. Let me spell it out for you: two thousand two hundred of your American dollars.
Since I couldn't ask my cousin Andre, I used a calculator and figured that's $314.29/month that I need to raise, on average.

"Gee, that's a lot of money", you say. "Good luck with that", you say.

Not so fast, buck-o! Wouldn't you just love to help me out? Wouldn't it feel good to know you've made a real contribution, that you've done something that will save lives and impact everyone who has been or will be affected by breast cancer? Wouldn't you like to make a difference?

I'll bet you would. Tell your favorite pair of boobs you love them and go here, to my HQ (of DOOM!). Donate today (and tomorrow, too, if you feel like it!). Tell your friends to donate. Send them to my site, or send me their email, so that I may do my own panhandling.

For your convenience, I have also included a link to my fundraising HQ in the sidebar. That way, you can track my progress, and, if you're so inclined, help me reach my goal!

The 3 Day

2006-03-20T10:19:00.000-08:00

My sister sent me an email about the Breast Cancer 3 Day event, and I really want to do it. The deal is, you pay a registration fee ($90) and pledge to raise at least $2,200 by the walk date (which is the end of October for DFW). If you raise the money, they let you walk 60 miles in 3 days along their little route. I'm the type of person who'd be more inclined to pay 2 grand NOT to walk 60 miles, but this is different. I really want to do this, and it seems like perfect timing since my aunt has recently been diagnosed with breast cancer. My grandmother is a breast cancer survivor, too, so this is definately an issue that is close to my heart - literally and figuratively!

There's only one hitch... in order to walk in the 3 day, I need medical insurance. I don't have any. The website reccommends getting temporary insurance to cover the actual 3 day walk, but doesn't list any providers. Where can I get temporary insurance and how much does it cost? Do I have to get a medical exam? I can't sign up to do this until I get these questions answered. Any ideas?

My Virtual Reality

2006-03-15T12:39:00.000-08:00

I haven't posted in a while - I guess I haven't had much to say. I keep trying to come up with stuff that's "blog-worthy"... but it's my blog, right? Anything can be blog-worthy!

It's that time of year again - time for me to gamble on my conflicted inheritance and see what I get. I'm talking about gardening. If I were going to put this in D&D prestiege class terms (and I'm such a big geek, you know I am!) my father is a Verdant Lord. That is to say, he can simply will things to grow. When he plants a garden, the primary concern is containment. My mother, on the other hand, is a Blighter. Plants wither and die at her touch. She's not maliciously trying to kill all plant life, it's just that she seems cursed to leave herbacious destruction in her wake.

I'm really hit-or-miss with plants. I enjoy gardening, but sometimes things flourish, and sometimes they disintegrate into withered husks. So, when I grow things, it's really like gambling, double or nothing. I'd be content with a happy medium, though.

Having learned a bit about pumpkins from my last experiment, I decided to start them a bit earlier this year. The little cup of dirt and potential is in my windowsill now. I also put some marigolds and strawberries (yummy!) out today, and I'm hoping they'll do well. Especially the strawberries!

In other news, it's Spring Break for me, and I've been doing a whole lot of nothing! It's been nice, but there's definately stuff I should be doing (*ahem* thesis), so this vacation has not been guilt-free. I have been getting A LOT accomplished in Planescape: Torment. This is a pretty old PC game (I think it came out in 1999), but it still looks really good and is a fantastic experience. It's incredibly well-written, has an intriguing story, exceptionally developed characters, and manages to be dark and funny at the same time. If you have not played this game yet, do yourself a favor and make it a priority. Don't worry - your POS machine will run this. I also made a brief return this week to the Temple of Elemental Evil, and quickly remembered why I stopped playing it the first time. It sucks. When I play it, I am plagued with the sense that the game is cheating me - not fun. It claims to be an authentic D&D experience, and this may be true if you play under a power-mongering DM who is unconcerned with your entertainment. If you love tedious fetch-and-carry quests, hate fun, and are trying to cultivate some angst, play this "game".

That's about it for this time. I need to clean up my room and I want to do a little painting, too. Maybe this weekend we'll go down to Austin to see my aunt, her family, and "the brother", who has recently moved there from El Paso. I have to find someone to feed the menagerie while we're gone, though, and my options are quite limited. So limited, in fact, that there may not even be any options. I'd best get cracking.

Party Animal

2006-03-06T12:12:00.000-08:00

I don't condone giving beer to cats, but this is great! Apparently, Spat likes to party.

As you can tell from the picture, this was taken from stuff on my cat.com. Tandy has a link to it from his site (which you can link to from my sidebar!)

Can you smell what Paul Simon's cooking?

2006-03-03T11:51:00.000-08:00

*sigh* Blogging is such a strange thing. Sometimes I suffer from total writer's block, and other times, ideas rush to me so swiftly I can scarcely keep my head above the rushing tide.
There were a lot of other things I wanted to write about, but this thought came to me and I couldn't push it aside. Roll up your sleeves, guys; we're going in.

I'm not sure what made me think of this guy I grew up with, but he and his current circumstances popped into my head (while I was drying my hair this morning) and led to an interesting question. We'll call this guy "Al". I grew up with Al. He's a bit younger than me, so I don't know him particularly well, but I know him well enough. We were never best friends or anything, but we were always over at each other's houses, playing with each other's siblings, that sort of thing. One of those background kids that you know but don't know. Al's a nice guy. Good kid all around, really. I like him.

Al grew up, as all neighborhood kids do. He fell in love, and got married (at a rather young age in my opinion, but that's not the point here). For the life of me, I can't remember Al's wife's real name, so I'll just cross my fingers and hope it's not Betty, because that's what I'm calling her here. (Hooray for old songs!)

Al and Betty are, by all reports, a happily married couple. A good old blue-collar couple, neither went to college, and they both work as baristas at a coffee joint. I think Al may also be a youth minister at a church, but I'm not sure if he gets paid for that. If he does, it's apparently not enough money for him to give up working as a barista.

So, it's my understanding that Al and Betty are very poor. There's no shame in that.

My problem is that they're breeding like rabbits.

Al and Betty are Catholic, and don't believe in birth control. If you are not familiar with this phenomenon, please consult Monty Python's classic anthem, "Every Sperm is Sacred". *snicker*

Okay, silliness aside, I'm not arguing that Al and Betty don't have a right to their religious beliefs. Of course they do. I'm questioning whether or not I should have to subsidize those beliefs.

You see, at last count, Al and Betty have been married for about 2 and a half years, and have at least 3, and perhaps 4 children. They don't show signs of stopping. But let's be realistic here. They both work as baristas at a coffee shop. Where are they getting the money to support themselves and these kids? My guess? Government programs. Programs, I might add, that you and I pay for.

Now, I'm all for government programs, and I certainly don't believe children should be made to suffer as a result of parental irresponsibility or poverty. But if Al and Betty know they can't pay rent or buy groceries, how can they conscience getting pregnant? If they expect "God will provide", I might point out that it is in fact the American taxpayer that is providing in their particular case.

Here's another example. This one fits more closely with what I believe these government programs are for.

Sally went to college. She spent a few years being an idiot, and then got her act together. Except suddenly, she ended up pregnant. (Once again, the Catholic method rears its ugly head.) But, like I said, she'd gotten her act together by then. She married Dan, the father, had the baby, and has spent the last two years working hard both in and out of the home. Sally and Dan don't have a lot of money, either. They want to have more kids - but not until they get themselves in a more stable financial position. To this end Dan finished college, the family moved so he could start his full-time job, and Sally also got a job at day care, so she can make money and take care of their child at the same time.

During and after her pregnancy, Sally used some government programs, like WIC. That's what those programs are there for. What Sally did NOT do was become a serial baby-factory.

The problem is this. Betty and Al have a religious belief. Because of this religious belief, they choose not to use birth control, ever. That's their business. It becomes my business when Betty and Al can't support their burgeoning family and turn to public monies for help. Naturally, their religious beliefs are protected, and Joe Taxpayer has no right to demand or even ask Betty and Al to use conventional contraceptive methods. So, in effect, Joe Taxpayer, who (for the sake of argument) doesn't share Betty and Al's religious beliefs, still ends up paying for those beliefs. Without wanting to, Joe is subsidizing Betty and Al's religious choice.

It's kind of a sticky wicket, isn't it? Seperation of Church and State versus Religious Freedom versus Personal Responsibility versus Public Responsibility.... Clearly, the only way to settle this one is....A WWF SMACKDOWN!!! (Hey, this is Texas, after all...)

Hooray for student fees!

2006-02-24T12:46:00.000-08:00

Yes, that's right. Hooray for student fees! Without them, I wouldn't have ready access to sound legal advice.

Like many people, when I was young and stupid, I got a credit card. I made charges, and then found I couldn't pay them. Yes, this whole income - expenditure concept escaped me. Math is hard when you're 18 and a complete idiot.

It was a relatively small debt, about $1000. Peanuts when you compare it to the credit card debt of the average American household. And yet, I still couldn't pay it. I've been in school full-time since I got to college 7 long years ago, and predictably, money has always been tight. I did know about the debt, and had full intentions of paying it as soon as I was out of school and employed at a "real" job.

Recently, out of the blue, I received a call from a collection agency, Encore. They started negotiations by telling me they were suing me for the amount of the debt - and claimed to have sent me paperwork to that effect.

Now, I'm not the most detail-oriented person, but I'm DAMN sure I never received paperwork about being sued. I pay attention to that kind of thing.

And thus began a week of harrassment, degredation, and as it turns out, completely illegal collection activity.

In Texas, according to Texas Civil Practice and Remedies Code section 16.004, an agency has 4 years to collect a debt. After that, the debt is no longer good, and collectors have to leave you alone, legally.

Unfortunately, some unscrupulous companies are capitalizing on the public's general ignorance of financial law. These companies buy expired debts for pennies on the dollar (sometimes less) and press people into payment, totally illegally. By their view, if they get you to pay them $1, they've recouped their cost AND earned money. It's big business, too - one such company made $325 million in 2002!

Also, paying off an old debt can be detrimental to your credit. Sometimes it's best to just walk away.

Here's the article my legal advisor sent me: Zombie Debt

I'm not glad that I walked out of a $1000 debt. I firmly believe in taking responsibility for one's actions, and that means paying debts. However, I am glad that I didn't give that collection agency any money, and to know that I don't have to put up with their treatment. After all the belittling and harrassment, it feels good to beat them at their own game.

What do you know? Knowledge really is power.

(By the way, if you click on the $$ shirt, it will take you to instructions on how to fold it!)

In the House of History

2006-02-22T11:35:00.000-08:00

Of late, I've been reading The Oxford Illustrated History of the British Monarchy, and it's fascinating. Admittedly, it's a bit hard to follow in places, as it assumes a much broader knowledge of European history than I possess, but it's still an interesting and informative read. So far, I've gotten up to George II (who reigned from 1727 to 1760), but I think my favorite monarch so far is from quite a bit further back.

Eric Bloodaxe (yes, that's his real name) was the Viking king of York from 947-954. I like him because:
1) His name is Eric Bloodaxe.
2.) He seems to have had a pretty straightforward view of leadership. His coinage says it all. Rather than mucking about with portraits and the like, his coins simply have the words "Eric" and "Rex" (which means "king", for those who missed out on rudimentary latin), with a big sword right across the middle, in case anyone forgot why he was king...

Reading this book also sparked my curiousity, and I turned to the all-knowing internet for answers. This is where I found History House, a very entertaining website that seems to be run by people who have their facts straight (well, as straight as facts get where history is concerned). I cannot reccommend enough that you should browse their column archives. Want to know more about Rasputin? Fidel Castro? Eugenics? Go there first.

From the Comments....

2006-02-22T11:31:00.000-08:00

I'm going to post about something else in a minute, but I just read this comment from Tandy regarding my last post, "Disaster", and had to put it up here:

I was one of the aforementioned guys, and I'm still single and interested in going out w/ more Japanese girls. If you are not a Japanese girl do not fret, I'm also interested in Scottish, Irish, Venezuelan, French, German, Dutch, Portugese, Brazilian, American, Chinese, Korean, Vietnamese, Austrailian, Russian, Swiss, African (any country will do), Icelandic, Maltese, Norweigan, Swedish, Indian, Nepalese, Zanzibarian... Now that I think about it I'm up for anything
Tandy O | Homepage | 02.22.06 - 2:17 pm | #

Oh Tandy, you never cease to amuse! But...Zanzibar???

Disaster!

2006-02-15T11:04:00.000-08:00

Augh! Valentine's day was a complete disaster! I had a crappy time, and ended up with three (rightfully) disgruntled guys!

The plan was simple enough. I had met two Japanese girls who were interested in meeting some American guys. I also happened to have two American guy friends who were single and highly interested in meeting Japanese girls. For Valentine's day, Max and I thought we could all go out as a group and have some fun getting to know each other. We made the arrangements, the plans were set, everyone (with the possible exception of Edward) was stoked. This was going to be fun.

Or so I thought.

We ate at Hannah's, a Denton-based restaurant that Max and I have enjoyed in the past for special occassions. Unfortuantely, the restaurant seems to be on a down-slide: I am less impressed with the food each time I go. The service is mixed - the hostesses were rude to me both in person and over the phone, but our waiter, Jess (who also waited on us last year for the same occassion) did an impressive job.

Our reservations were at 9.30 (later than I would have liked, but it's my own fault...I made them) and by that time there had been some changes made to the menu. While not a major problem, this still resulted in a slight inconvenience and necessitated a reorganization of priorities. Furthermore, (and this is my ONLY beef with our waiter) all three of the ladies ordered sparkling water. However, they had only one bottle left, so the waiter brought it to me, since I had ordered it first. He explains this dilemma AS he is opening the bottle and pouring me a nice, refreshing, lime-laced glass. The Japanese girls look on thirstily. At this point, I can't send the San Pelligrino back, so I request two more glasses for the Japanese girls and encourage them to split the rest of the bottle. This was a poor solution at best, and I felt guilty and inconsiderate.

Additionally, because it was Valentine's Day, the restaurant was serving a "special menu". While this is common practice, and price increase is to be expected, this menu brought with it a level of price-gouging that none of us could ever have anticipated. This was not a reasonable, modest fee increase to cover the cost of more lavish ingredients and capitalize on the holiday. This was shameless daylight robbery.

But so far, these are trifiling concerns. The real nightmare had nothing to do with the restaurant. It was the Japanese girls. They spent THE WHOLE TIME talking to each other in Japanese! I know for a fact that both of these women speak passable English. The occasional grammar slip-up aside, they are both capable of fluid, natural conversation in English, with very few faulterings or miscommunications. The guys did make some attempt to initiate conversation with them, although I would hardly call their efforts exhaustive. The Japanese girls responded to the questions, of course, in perfect English (which suprised the guys, who had at this point assumed they just didn't speak English), and then went right back to conversing in Japanese. I believe they asked one question of the boys between the two of them all night.

As for myself, rather than having an enjoyable evening with friends, or with Japanese people, or with my boyfriend, I spent all night trying to engage the girls in the guys' conversation, or the guys in the girls' conversation. I spoke partly in English and partly in Japanese, and it seemed all questions between the two parties were directed at me, as if I were some kind of international liason. I should stress to you that I was not doing a great deal of interpreting, here. It was like this:

Japanese girl: (leans over to me and whispers) How old is he? (points)
Me: Who, Edward? 23 I think. (looks at Edward) I dunno, Ed, how old are you?
Edward: I'm 22, I'll be 23 in March.
Me: Oh, that's right. Sorry!...(searches desperately for a conversation bridge) Um, these two are both 19, right? (looks at nodding Japanese girls) Uh, so (Japanese girl's name), when's your birthday?...

It was TERRIBLE. And in the end, the guys got stuck with a monstrous bill, and didn't get so much as a decent conversation for their trouble. As the organizer of this mad circus, I can't help but feel responsible. To top it all off, I hardly got to speak to my boyfriend (who's a bit of a shrinking violet in akward social situations) all evening! Max went into stealth mode, and I had my hands so full with moderating that I didn't have the chance to interact with the man who is by far my favorite person in the world, and certainly at that table. We couldn't even really see each other because he was sitting right next to me. [sad, pouty face here]

I believe, however, that I did win the "Asian Challenge", as it were (the "Asian Challenge" is in reference to the unspoken competition between women that takes place whenever they go out in mixed company, in this case made more difficult because the other women involved were Asian, and thus at a distinct advantage...), but the victory seems hollow because the evening was so miserable.

*sigh* At least I have my "Asian Challenge Victory Shoes" to comfort me.

Kittens!

2006-02-13T10:48:00.000-08:00

I meant to put this in with the last post, but I forgot! Steven (who doesn't blog very much!) was kind enough to console me in an earlier post with a gift of kittens. This website is awesome! Some of the "kittens" look a lot more like full-blown cats to me, but who cares? I strongly encourage browsing through the extensive collection of photos with the "random kitten" button at the top of the page. I like this site so much, I'm putting it in the sidebar. Yes, I'm that crazy.

Found!

2006-02-13T10:34:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, a man called saying he'd found my purse! Apparently, his girlfriend saw it fall off the car while my sister and I were driving around Cleburne. Embarrassingly, this means that I did actually leave the purse on top of the car and allow Sarah to drive off. But then again, I was on a lot of medication...
My pride aside, my purse is completely intact, with all of its contents (including my GLASSES!) and in my sister's possession. I don't have to get a new driver's license photo (which is great because my old one is hot), I don't have to squint through the rest of Japanese this semester, and I get all my favorite lip gloss back! Needless to say, I'm stoked. I'm also totally impressed with the mysterious Cleburnites. They did not remove anything from my purse, and despite the one-month delay in contacting me, they have restored my faith in humanity. But not so much that I'm not going to put a seven-year flag on my credit...you can't be too careful!

Archaeology

2006-02-08T10:08:00.000-08:00

Just so everyone knows, I spelled the title for this post right on the first try (even though I did feel the need to check it)!

Moving is such a daunting experience. Even though we didn't actually relocate, the sense of upheaval is the same. A majority of my stuff is still piled in boxes in my living room, making navigation quite tricky. I'm not sure where anything is, and it all feels strange and unfamiliar, which is odd because I've been living in the same apartment for almost 5 years. This has also been an excellent oppourtunity for what I call "The Great Purge" - getting rid of all the stuff (mostly clothes and shoes for me) that I haven't seen in several years. If I'd forgotten I had it, chances are I won't be needing it anytime soon.

I have mixed feelings about The Purge. On the one hand, I know it needs to be done, and I'm excited about getting things organized (if only temporarily) and having more space. And who doesn't like to rearrange their furniture?! (Okay, maybe most people don't, but I do!) On the other hand, it's hard to get rid of stuff. I mean, it's my stuff. I like it, or at least I did at some point. I find myself inventing bizarre scenarios when I would really need that torn-up pair of cutoff jeans, or telling myself I should keep something merely because I've already had it for so long. Of course, this is ridiculous. A ratty old pair of shoes that I no longer wear will not magically metamorphize into something wonderful, useful or valuable, no matter how long I keep them. They will continue to confront me with the same dilemma every time I clean until I finally rid myself of thier oppressive chokehold on my sanity. Okay, maybe it's not that bad. But you get the picture.

And then of course, there's the storage issue. I just don't have room for all of this stuff! If I acquire new things (and I like to think that I may be able to do that at some point), the old stuff will have to go. So it might as well go now. In all of this I've learned that for a woman who always feels like she has NOTHING to wear, I've sure got a lot of clothing!

In other news, I am completely petrified of my thesis. This project is so big, so intimidating, and so beyond anything I've done before that I don't know where to begin on it. And it doesn't help that almost no research has been done in this area. I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a huge hedge-maze on a moonless night, and my pocket flashlight just went out. Oh, and there's a psycho chasing me with an axe.

At any rate, I've been avoiding it, and that's very bad. All the avoidance in the world won't make it go away. I wish I could just fast forward my life until I get to the part where I'm done with it. What I really need right now is a montage!

I did it ebay! Part 2

2006-01-25T11:03:00.000-08:00

It's time for another exciting edition of...This Isn't Your Life!

Busy, busy busy. English really needs to come up with another word to describe this. I'm tired of using the same one over and over again.

As you may have deduced from the post title, I did in fact do it eBay, and I must say it was a raging success. I have made a whopping $163.80 to date, with one auction still running. Considering that all I did to earn this money was rid myself of some of the ever-accumulating mass of stuff in my life, it is by far the easiest $160 I've ever made. (But that last $3.80 was pure work!)

The semester has started, the cycle begins again, and I am throwing myself into it with my usual vigor. Even though every semester is different, and as I advance through graduate school I venture ever further into completely uncharted territory, there is a pattern and a sameness to it that I find comforting. Not to wax poetic here, but it is a cycle, and while I may not know exactly what I'm doing, I do know the general form of the beast. It is finite. I have seen it before.

I feel that as I move through life, I earn the ability to "zoom out" further and further. It's like, at first, I am standing in front of something that is huge and looming - it's so tall and massive that I can't see the top of it, or even the sides. Then, as I grow a little and "zoom out", I recognize the thing as a tree. I zoom out a bit more and see that the tree is in a forest. Further still, I see that the forest is on an island, and the island is on an ocean, the ocean is on a planet, and so forth. Then, I can go back to standing in front of the huge tree with knowlege of it in context. I think this is called wisdom.

Swimming back from the deep end, I'm moving this weekend. Technically, I'm taking all the stuff out of my apartment, putting it in a garage, and then moving it all back a few days later. It's really kind of ridiculous. What can I say? I like my apartment, and we did the math - it just doesn't make any sense to actually move. If we stay where we are, we start saving money in one month, including "moving" costs. If we actually relocate, it would take about 13 months at fully half of what we're paying in rent right now for us to see any savings, after you figure in moving costs, deposits, fees, etc. That's not a good equation. So instead, I'll be taking all my furniture down a flight of stairs, waiting a couple of days, and taking it all back up the same flight of stairs. It will be placed neatly back in its original location on new carpet, next to freshly painted walls, recaulked bathrooms, and sparkling, cleaned appliances.

I am particularly excited about the fridge. Our current roommate has a problem with having empty space in a refrigerator. It is bizarre. Our fridge will be overflowing and crowded with stuff. Who knows what it is? It's like Tetris to get that last cup of yogurt on the back of the shelf. When you open the freezer, an avalanche of frozen packages ensues. So we clean it out. We remove long-forgotten leftovers and freezer-burned chicken breasts. We throw out old, all-but-empty bottles of ketchup and salad dressing. The tupperware is reclaimed, and the fridge is once again navigable. Then, mysteriously, new, strange things appear in the fridge, usually within 24 hours. I am sure I have not gone to the store in this time. It is as if they are spontaneously created in the absence of excess. The overcrowding happens again, and the amount of food in there belonging to my roomate doubles or sometimes triples. It's as if he opens the door, notices space, and then is compelled to buy, buy, buy! until the space is gone. He fills it up with random things: package upon package of dubious-looking homemade ground meat, packages of sausage, hot dogs, pickled okra, econo-size frozen somethings, bottles of Miracle Whip and barbecue sauce. He doesn't need these items. He already has them. He buys them because there is space in the fridge. I hate it. Soon, he and all the white paper-wrapped packages stamped with "DEER" and "SAUSAGE" will be gone. They will not be missed.

In other news, Tandy Osro Lofland IV has secured a date with the woman he's been pining for for months. Her name is Breanna, and he hasn't stopped talking about her since he met her quite a while back. Apparently, his admiration from afar has shifted to expressed interest, and it's about time. He called me frantic because he had asked her out to dinner and a movie, planning the date for tomorrow. Unfortunately, tomorrow won't work for her, so she suggested this evening. In girlspeak, that's great news for Tandy! Being a guy, Tandy missed this entirely and panicked. Instead of just shifting the dinner and movie plans back one day, he scrambled to come up with something else to do. He remembered that today is Wednesday, the day Lost comes on TV. So, he invited her over to his house to watch tv for their first date! What was he thinking?!? Clearly, he wasn't. Then he called me, and I straightened him out. By now, he has no doubt called her back and rearranged for a proper date. Best of luck, Tandy!

Hindsight is 20/20

2006-01-18T12:04:00.000-08:00

I lost my glasses. They were in my purse.
(These aren't them, by the way.)

6 of one, half a dozen of the other...

2006-01-16T18:41:00.000-08:00

So, today has been a mixed day. Fortunately, the good far outweighs the bad (at the moment) because I'M FINALLY GETTING OVER BEING SICK!!!

Granted I'm not well, but I'm ambulatory and almost audible. This is a huge improvement. And this remarkable change was brought about by the use of only four different prescription medications! Joy of joys!

Sarcasm aside, I'm pretty excited about not being sick in the near future. Also, I found out today that I did indeed manage to get straight A's all last semester! Despite the bizzarro class, I pulled it off, somehow. My perfect GPA remains intact, and I am stoked. Go me!

On the downside, I lost my purse. I was accompanying my sister on her house-hunting mission, and I think I put my purse on top of the car to get my niece out of the back seat. Then, my niece abruptly tried to run into the street, so I chased after her, completely forgetting about my purse, and went with my sister (and the midget) into the house. While we were touring the place, I speculate that an oppourtunistic individual of questionable morality happened upon the purse and made off with it. Unfortunately for them, the only thing of monetary value I had in the purse was a $50 American Express gift card. Even my check card and such are worthless, as those accounts have been closed. Unfortunately for me, I lost my keys, my super-cool keychain with mementos from England on it, my driver's license, my Social Security card, a Marilyn Monroe wallet I was rather fond of, and a cool purse. It pains me to know that all of these items which I miss most from my purse will undoubtedly end up in a dumpster someplace. Meh. This is inconvenient, but not a disaster. I should have been paying more attention, but then, I'm also on a lot of medication, so I can't really blame myself.

The other disturbing thing I found today is that mysteriously, all of my classes for next semester have been dropped. This is most puzzling. I'm sure it's just a glitch with financial aid, but I talked to them last week and they assured me nothing was amiss. However, I can't find out anything about it until tomorrow, anyway, so there's no point in getting worked up. I can't imagine that UNT will refuse to take my money, so I'm pretty sure my semester is not in real jeopardy.

And at last...I did it! I listed that damnable Educational Psychology book on eBay, and soon it will become someone else's curse! If you are interested in the book that draws my ire, feel free to check out my listing. Buy it, even! (Bid high - I need the money!)

The Downward Spiral

2006-01-13T12:30:00.000-08:00

Okay, this would be the beginning of a major freak-out. Yes, I know that doesn't immediately make sense; I'll explain in a minute.

I am soooo sick. If I were any sicker, I'd be dead. Or maybe Michael Jackson....it's hard to tell which is worse. I have been sick for SIX DAYS. And I'm not talking about being a bit under the weather. I'm talking about being pretty much completely bedridden for six days straight. About once a day, I muster my forces and drag myself to my computer to check my email and take care of all the beginning of the semester business. Then I retreat back to bed and lie in abject misery until night, when I pour myself a stiff shot of NyQuil and slip into unconciousness for a few fitfull hours. Rinse, repeat.

I went to the doctor yesterday, and she gave me some medicine that doesn't seem to be making me feel any better, just a different kind of bad. They say variety is the spice of life, but give me a break! I am no longer interested in treating my symptoms. I want to get better, or I want to die. When you get right down to it, those are the options. At this point, either one sounds like an improvement.

And now we arrive at the next point. The Spring semester starts on Tuesday, January 17th. This semester, I will be taking 15 graduate hours and 3 undergrad hours, for a grand total of 18 . I am insane and a masochist for taking 18 hours EVER, especially in graduate school. For those of you who are not aware, 9 hours is generally considered full-time for graduate students, 12 if you're really ambitious. The trouble is, every one of these classes I'm taking are ONLY offered in the Spring. So if I don't take them this semester, I can't take them until next year. I can't afford to drag out my education indefinately. I will boldly go where no Martin has gone before. I will get this Master's degree, and I will move on with my life. (Incidentally, "moving on with my life" will almost certainly involve MORE school, but that's neither here nor there...)

I have grit. I have determination. I'm working my way towards a stress-induced ulcer.

Ah, now back to my explaination. As I mentioned, I have been sick for six days. There is no sign of it letting up anytime soon. I have a rather busy and challenging semester in front of me:
Learning and Cognition, Research in Counseling, Cognition (without the learning), Master's Thesis, Grant Proposal Writing, and Intermediate Japanese. This semester starts in four days. Right now, I am barely able to walk across my apartment. Somewhere in the back of my brain, there is a flashing red light and a loud voice saying, "Houston, we have a problem."

Unfortunately, I just don't have the energy to respond.

I have to be in top form this semester or I'm never going to make it. I will fall behind at some point; there's no getting around that. But if I get behind right in the beginning, I'll never be able to catch up. Period. I must get well in four days. But last time I checked, my immune system doesn't respond to deadlines.

So anyway, this would be the beginning of a major freak-out if just typing this post didn't knock the wind out of me. If slouching in a chair typing didn't tap out my resources, I might be able to muster a proper level of concern/panic. For all the good it would do me. Actually, now that I think about it, maybe it's better this way. I mean, I still feel the rising sense of panic and dread, but since I can't respond to it, that's a good thing, right? Right???

I did it ebay!

2006-01-10T11:26:00.000-08:00

Oh, I am so sick right now. I've been in bed all day, and I'm sick of it. So I finally managed to claw my way upright, and now all I want to do is go back to bed! This sucks.

Anyway, my sister's been making big bucks on eBay selling old textbooks and stuff, so I thought, "Hey, I've got a ton of old textbooks, and I could sure use the money!" I've never sold anything on eBay before, so Sarah promised to be my guide in such matters. The trouble is, I'm looking around at all my stuff, and I'm not sure there's all that much I can really get rid of. Sure, there's at least one text that I'll never, ever look at again (Educational Psychology, I'm talking about YOU!), but a lot of these books are texts I feel I should keep. I've pretty much reached the point in my academic career that I don't have a lot of stuff laying around that isn't directly related to what I want to do when I grow up. It's not that I really want the MMPI-2: An Interpretive Manual, but at some point, I might actually need it. Like, for real-life reference, not some BS class.

On the other hand, the only textbook I own that I've actually used for reference after the class was over is my Biological Psychology text. That book is so cool, sometimes I just read it for fun. It's certainly not a gripping novel or anything, but it covers so many interesting things - the mechanics of vision, hearing, how our brains work, etc. I can't be bothered to remember every tiny detail of those things, and this book patiently explains and re-explains them over and over again, each time I forget. Alas, I digress.

I've also got some foreign language books, which I'm never keen to part with, and various collections of English literature. I also don't like to sell those because I occassionally like to read them. More often, though, I'll find myself wondering "What's the name of that story about the _____?" Or "What exactly was wrong with that chic in The Yellow Wallpaper?" If life really is in the details, I must be missing a lot of it!

The question of course is: Is the knowlege that I have these books, should I ever need them, worth more to me than the dollar value they represent? I don't know. What's the difference between The Complete Works of William Shakespeare and The Unabridged William Shakespeare? (Neither of those were textbooks, by the way. I just love Shakespeare.) Do I really need them both? Probably not.

Jason and the Argonauts

2006-01-06T11:19:00.000-08:00

Hmm... I haven't posted in quite some time, so I think I should. Unfortunately, there is little to report. Acutally, that's an inaccurate statement. There is nothing to report. That's right. There is absolutely nothing cool, crappy or stressful going on in my life right now. Nada. And to tell you the truth, I'm kind of enjoying it.
Christmas was fun. Of note, besides my pink cube of power, I recieved a sewing machine. This thing has so many features, I have serious doubts about my ability to ever use them all. Most of the features the manual talks about are things that I have no idea what they even are, let alone how or when or why to use them. (That last sentence was a grammar nightmare, and I'm sorry.) Fortunately, the sewing machine has a 25-year warranty on it, so I've got some time to figure it all out.
For New Year, I flew up to El Paso to stay with Max's family. As usual, I had a great time. For someone like me, who was born in a swamp at or perhaps even below sea level, the mountainous desert of El Paso is a challenging environment. Nosebleeds and feeling like I'm being freeze-dried are constant problems. Yet I always manage to have a fun visit, despite these complaints. I guess that means I really like his family!
Back at home, the most exciting event does not directly involve me. No, I am merely a spectator in "The Quest for the Perfect Game/DVD Holder". I should stress to you that this quest is epic. In the past week, I have personally been to Ikea twice in the pursuit of this elusive goal. In fact, at this point, it may be accurate to refer to the game/dvd holder as "the golden fleece". It is that kind of epic.
In my estimation, there are two types of people in this world, consumers and engineers. Say you have all of your games and dvds stacked in neatish-but-still-rather-disorganized piles. A consumer identifies the need for some type of containment system. Usually, that's about as far ahead as they get before hopping in the car to visit "the buying places". Perhaps, if they're especially clever, the consumer may take some measurements of the space where they hope their new possession will reside. But most consumers take a more fly-by-the-seat-of-the-pants approach; "I need _______. I can spend about $____. Let's see what they've got." Everything else is negotiable. This flexibility offers the consumer a wide variety of options, but may lead to difficulties in making a final decision. Since so many items would "work", no single piece jumps up and screams "Buy me!" At this point, the consumer usually buys whatever seems to appeal to them most at the time, takes it home, and is generally satisfied with the purchase, even if it requires the reorganization of furniture or is in some other way slightly inconvenient.
The engineer, on the other hand, envisions not only the function, but also the form of the new item. While a consumer identifies the need for "some type of containment system", an engineer decides approximately (or perhaps even exactly!) how many games and dvds the new item must have the capacity to hold, the structural integrity required of the item, the exact future placement of the item, precise specifications of the item's width, height, depth, number of shelves, color, materials, etc. In short, before even thinking about getting in the car, an engineer has a rather concrete, exacting vision of the item they wish to purchase. The trouble here is that the engineer's vision may be so refined, so narrow, so novel even, that the desired product is not commercially available. Nothing is quite right, and nothing short of quite right will do. At this point, the engineer will either go home in disgust without purchasing anything, or will embark on a campaign of design - purchasing items, modifying them to suit their evil needs, bending reality to their will, and creating for themselves that which they desire.
I, for the most part, am a consumer, and I find this engineering process facsinating to observe. I just hope that at the end of it all, the engineers of the world experience about 100 times more contentment with their solutions than we consumers generally find with ours. It seems like they put in at least that much more effort!

Why, god, why?

2005-12-26T13:45:00.000-08:00

The lady who lives downstairs from me is mobility-impaired. She seems very nice. In my head, I call her the "cripple-lady" - I know this is wrong, insensitive and a terrible thing to do, but I don't know her name and that's just what I call her to myself. It is not meant as an insult or anything.

My insensitivities aside, she has a little dachshund. When I asked her about it, she said she wanted "a little lap doggie". I don't know about this woman, but I would never let that beast anywhere near my face, or any part of my body, for that matter! This dog is a baleful hellhound of bloody dismemberment. I would almost think it was cute, were it not a dachshund-shaped manifestation of pure evil.

This dog barks, growls, spits at, and actually attempts to attack anyone who is not the cripple-lady. Even her husband is not safe from its wrath. Once, when they first moved in, I was bitten by the demonic canine. Fortunately, I was wearing jeans and its vile fangs failed to penetrate my skin. However, I would be lying to you if I said the "little lap doggie" doesn't make me very, very nervous.

They frequently allow the beast onto their porch, where it may threaten the populace without real supervision. While it cannot escape the confines of the porch (as it is securely tied to something inside the apartment by its ever-present leash), it is free to run back and forth along the inside of the porch, barking, growling, foaming and bearing its glistening-white teeth at anyone who dares take out the garbage or go to the car.

At first, being the animal lover that I am, I thought that perhaps cripple-lady's beloved pet was just cranky and having a bad day, or intimidated by strangers or something. I have learned that this is not the case. This dog, if it can even be called that, really is as vicious as I described above, and it is like that ALL THE TIME.

My question is, why? Why does it hate the world and all things in it? Is it something about dachshunds? I'm currently leaning strongly toward the theory that the "dog" is in fact nothing more than a dachshund-shaped manifestation of pure evil, as I mentioned earlier. However, I am open to alternative hypotheses. If you can think of another plausible explaination for this behaviour, please, let me know! Oh, and don't bother with the "little dogs don't know their own size - they know no fear" thing. This goes waaay beyond "little dog" syndrome. Remember, this abomination actually bit me! For absolutely no reason! I was returning to my apartment, minding my own business when it leapt off cripple-lady's lap and sprang toward me, dragging it's leash behind it and viciously attempted to taste my tender flesh! If cripple-lady's husband hadn't heard the commotion and come running to my rescue, the beast might still be attatched to the bloody remains of my leg.

Black is for sissies

2005-12-22T11:15:00.000-08:00

Whoa, it's been a while. It seems my blogging comes in fits and spurts, sorry.

Well, the semester has finally, officially been wrapped up. The end was marked by my submission of a paper just moments ago. Yes, the paper was submitted after grades were turned in. I don't understand it either. Then again, I don't understand most things about that class, or that professor. On the bright side, the paper is actually what I think turned out to be a brilliant expository piece on what makes a good educator. Not to toot my own horn here (because I'm BLARING it!), but it is a rather well-worded treatise. If you would like to read it, email me and I'll send it to you. I'd hate to bore the masses with my handful of pages worth of pearls! Pearls, I tell you!!

My sweetie flew home to El Paso today for Christmas, as is his custom. His flight was very early and I got stuck in terrible traffic on the way back from the airport. It sucked. It sucks more that this is our fifth Christmas together that we'll be spending apart. I realize that some couples aren't even married as long as we've been dating, and it seems cosmically unfair to me that those people get to have Christmas together but we don't. Meh.

Anyway, since we won't be seeing each other on Christmas, we did our gift exchange last night. I GOT SOME SWEET LOOT!!! My offerings of a snappy-looking shirt, A Brief History of Time, some mad money and a really cool computer game that his machine may not even run (I didn't know that when I bought it) pale in comparison to what he got me - a GameCube!!! The man who swore he would never defile the sanctity of his gaming center with a Nintendo product actually bought a GameCube for me, AND he set it up! During Thanksgiving, I spent an unhealthy amount of time playing various games on his brother's GameCube, and lamented the fact that I didn't own one. He listened! And, boy, did he deliver! Not only did I recieve the missing console in our trilogy, I also got decals! My GameCube is no ordinary, plebian console. It is a pink cube of power! (Click on it! Click, damn you! Marvel at the beauty of my machine!)
I also got an extra "Party" controller (in a festive blue color), and something I hope to god is a microphone and not a Nintendo vibrator, and Mario Party 7. These all came with the console in what was called a "Party Package". I also received the two games I wanted - Animal Crossing and Legend of Zelda: Windwaker! Yay! And I got two memory cards and a warranty and stuff. All in all, I made out like a bandit! In fact, I think I'm gonna ditch you punks and go play right now! The salvation of Hyrule, erm, I mean, my fictional little sister cannot wait!

Exciting New Experiences!

2005-12-12T22:13:00.000-08:00

Today, (more accurately, yesterday), I had 3 finals and a presentation. I was...busy. I survived, my GPA probably intact, but I crammed my brain so full of information that after the last test, it turned to mush. Completely liquified. This "brain overload" has happened before, but not to such a degree.
Most, if not all people have mastered the multitasking skills required to eat while continuing to breathe. It could be argued that this is a necessary life skill. For a few fateful moments today, I was incapable of coordinating these two basic tasks. I actually inhaled cake into my nasal cavity. Yellow butter cake with chocolate icing, to be precise.
Yes, there was (and perhaps still is) cake in my nose! How can I be sure? I was sneezing cake crumbs for about half an hour.
Yep, I felt pretty sexy.

Just thought I'd share that.

Er kotzte wie ein Reiher

2005-12-09T11:52:00.000-08:00

Apparently, the title of this post means "He puked his guts up" in German. As I don't speak German, I can't verify this as true, but the internet told me so. It's part of the translations provided as a courtesy by the German government to the British people who will be attending a large soccer tournament there. I'm not lying to you.

Who needs a massive Christmas lights display that is sychronized to a rock-athem by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra? You do! Quick, steal this idea before your neighbor does! Really, I'll bet the people who live across the street from this guy feel like chumps!

Kringus

2005-12-09T10:57:00.000-08:00

There you have it, a real, live Kringus. I am very pleased that my cats do no yet do this. I mean, that's just creepy.

Those comics are rather funny, and they're from PvP. I think they get bigger if you click on them, so do that. Scott Kurtz, creator of PvP, went to UNT, and I believe he still lives in the Dallas area. Yay, alumni!

Sorry posts have been few and far between recently, it's the end of the semester and all, and I've been busy. "I've been busy", that's like my catchphrase for this year, it seems!

Yesterday was a certain someone's birthday, so we celebrated last night at Master Grill, Churrascaria. It's a Brazilian-style restaurant, kind of like Fogo de Chao in Addison. It was cool, but there wasn't a lot for me to eat. I thought they'd have shrimp or fish or something, but not so. Just a whole bunch of guys in funny pants carrying around large skewers of meat. Apparently, the meat was very good, so I'm glad the carnivore in my life enjoyed it.

However, at almost $30 a person, I need more than a fairly large salad bar to keep me happy. So, in the end, I got the chef to specially prepare me some tilapia (I know, tilapia is like the ramen noodles of fish, but it's all they had.) The chef, who either had a hearing problem or a heavy accent, not sure which, offered to prepare the tilapia in any way I wanted - but then didn't list any options for me. How do I know what he has back there in the kitchen??? He's the chef, right? I figured he could put all that culinary school training to use and come up with something for me. I ended up with two beautifully presented, nicely grilled, COMPLETELY UNSEASONED tilapia fillets. No sauce. No spices. Not even salt. Sprigs of fresh parsley and cold asparagus were artfully arranged over totally bland, slightly dry grilled fillets.

I'm sure all the staff were very amused that a person with food preferences like mine decided to eat in their restaurant. In fact, I'm pretty sure it became a joke. Luckily by that point I'd had two glasses of wine, and life was pretty great all-around. The desserts were really good. And they had a harpist. So that was cool.

Festivus

2005-12-01T14:44:00.000-08:00

The holiday season is in full swing, and I've heard some interesting news. Can you think of a better time for an "all-out war" over semantics than this, the season of joy and peace? I know I can't!

I read the other day that a Christian group is fighting to put the "Christ" back in Christmas. They've even hired an army of mercenary-lawyers to aid their cause. Essentially, it seems they object to the phrase "Happy Holidays" (instead of "Merry Christmas") as used in greeting cards and store advertisements. Also, they are offended by the notion of "holiday trees" replacing Christmas trees.

They argue that this holiday season is really about Christmas, not any other holidays. As such, they believe that all retailers should use "Merry Christmas" advertising, and for people who do not celebrate Christmas, a spokesman said "Tough luck. This is a primarily Christian country, and we celebrate Christmas." I can tell he's just oozing tolerance and love for mankind, there.

I think it's great that people celebrate Christmas. And Hanukkah. And Kwanzaa. And Ramadan, when it happens to be in December. (I'd never fast for a month, but hey, if they want to, I'm happy for them!)

I think that the Christians who are concerned about the "Happy Holidays" trend have every right in the world to send "Merry Christmas" Christmas cards, have giant "Merry Christmas" nativity scenes in their front yards, and decorate Christmas trees while singing "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas". I do not think they have a right to threaten legal action against stores and local governments for using "Happy Holidays" advertising and erecting "Holiday trees".

Another thing about the trees....

The spokesman for the Christian group mentioned that Chirstmas trees are just that - a Christmas-only tradition. Therefore, he argued, calling one a "holiday tree" is ridiculous, as conifers are not used in celebrations of other holidays. I beg to differ with him on this point.

It is my understanding that the whole tree idea is, in fact, a pagan one. Evergreen plants have historically been seen as symbols of the sun and everlasting life, and were reputed to ward against witches, ghosts, evil spirits, and illness. Naturally, such handy plants were kept around, draped over doorways and otherwise prominently displayed during the cold, dark, and illness-ridden winter months. It seems that many non-European cultures decked the halls in winter, including the Romans and the Egyptians.

While the Germans were the first to jump on the Christmas-tree bandwagon in the 16th century, Americans used to be considerably more restrained in their Christmas celebrations. In 1659, the General Court of Massachusetts enacted a law making any observance of December 25 (other than a church service) a penal offense; people were fined for hanging decorations. This no doubt stemmed from Oliver Cromwell's preachings against "the heathen traditions" of Christmas carols, decorated trees, and any joyful expression that desecrated "that sacred event". (Yes, Oliver Cromwell was British. Americans weren't the only ones who were uptight about Christmas.) But, back to the trees, as late as the 1840s Christmas trees were seen as pagan symbols and not accepted by most Americans. It was only the "bad influence" of German and Irish settlers that finally lightened the holiday mood this side of the pond.

So, if you have a tree, a wooden pyramid with pine branches on it, or just a couple of palm fronds, display it proudly, and call it whatever you want!

*Most of the information in this post was ripped directly from The History Channel.

My Gift to You

2005-11-18T09:20:00.000-08:00

Well, during my internet travels today, I happened upon quite a gem, that I will now share with you...and the WORLD!!!

Songs To Wear Pants To is a site that you should visit. It may take a while to load, initially. Don't worry, it's worth it. It is important to note that everything on this site is created by ONE GUY with a great deal of musical talent, a quirky sense of humor, and apparently, a lot of free time.

If you're too lazy to go check out the site yourself (you know who you are), I have included a few of my favorites here for your perusal and enjoyment:

The Sweater Song - Not what you think
Napoleode - Inspired by Napoleon Dynamite
Beware the Sea Anenemones
Beware the Sea Anenemones Remix
Polka Loca! - The new party dance!
Reverse Escargot

These last two are covers of songs by They Might Be Giants. If you don't know TMBG, hang your head in shame. You are not a true geek.

Birdhouse in Your Soul
Experimental Film - This one sounds like The Pogues.

It is important to mention that ALL of these songs were just random requests by normal people. Some people paid for the songs, but many of them were composed for free. That's right. YOU can request a crazy song by this guy, and he will focus his creative energies on your hair-brained idea, and you don't have to pay him a red cent, you cheap bastard!

Anyway, enjoy.

The Path to Enlightenment

2005-11-17T08:44:00.000-08:00

Okay, so now it seems clear that my friend from the previous post still hates me. I thought things ended well, but it looks like she doesn't see it that way. I'd love to apologize and try to make things better, but I can't. I still stand by my opinion. My aunt is, once again, so right. Discernment sucks.

In other news, I have 2 large-ish papers due on Monday. Gotta love that end-of-the-semester crunch. One paper should be pretty easy, it's just an MMPI profile for one of my classmates. MMPI = Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory. It detects psychos. Disappointingly, my classmate is completely well-balanced and normal. And just in case you're wondering - I know you are - I came out normal too. Finally! Proof that I'm not certifiably crazy - yet. At first, it looked like I was a bit nutty in one area, but it turns out that I'd just written the number down wrong! Math is hard!

The other paper will be a royal pain in the butt. I started it yesterday, and it became clear that I have NO IDEA how to write a paper like this. I have to critique these 6 articles I've reviewed over the semeser, but I can't critique them individually. I have to critique all the articles as a single body of information. Well, like a genius, I went out of my way over the semester to find diverse articles (more or less on the same topic, at least) with varying degrees of validity. I thought it would be great for the critique when I could compare and contrast the good research with the bad. Little did I know that the good research and the bad research would now have to be treated as a single entity. Incidentally, this single paper counts for 20% of my grade in the class. This could get interesting.

I've determined that I will draw upon the mighty powers of BS to see me through this, The Challenge of the Impossible Paper. Every good high school gifted student knows how to harness the powers of BS for papers and projects. In college, BS is further developed as an essential skill. (This is how gifted programs prepare you for college. It's not the accelerated course content. Gifted kids have a head start because they've been BSing for years!) Graduate school is at once the continuation and culmination of this training, where students are transformed into finely honed, well-oiled BS machines, before being unleashed on the world. BS is the universal lubricant.

I view this Challenge of the Impossible Paper as yet another test on my path to BS nirvana. I will not fail!